|
|
|
|
Author |
Topic: Ghool's Bug Hunt (Read 268 times) |
|
Ghool
Forum God
Last On: 08/24/11
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 1503
|
Here's where we'll be posting for the back-to-back campaign consisting of:
The Gates of Firestorm Peak (Redeux)
and
S1 - Tomb of Horrors
|
|
 I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Mpskydog
Forum God
Last On: 06/15/11
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 1054
|
Steady dwarven hands organized the room, putting each thing in its place. Although still warm and dry, much of the heat had all ready fled the chamber, slowly dying with the cooling red coals of the forge. Dorac paused, unconsciously wiping his clean hands on his grimy apron as he surveyed the room once again. It had been only temporary – out of necessity, it had to be. But it was the first in a long time that Dorac had felt close to home despite the obvious physical distance between himself and his clansmen. He knew it had been the work though, and not the company, which made him feel as such.
A voice in his head told him he could return when the trip was over; resume his work at the forge when they returned. But something inside him, something strong and visceral, told him otherwise. No, he would move on when the trip was over. It was nearing time and he had no desire to overstay his welcome with the Aurions. A part of him would miss this place, of that he was certain.
But he had not hesitated when asked to accompany her on the road. How could he? He of all people understood how dangerous the world could be when traveling alone. Besides, despite their disagreements he couldn’t consider letting harm come to her.
Dorac closed his eyes, breathed in the smells of the dead forge, and tried to enjoy the last moments of silence he would likely get for a very long time to follow...
Mpskydog~
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Swashbuckler
Extreme Poster
Last On: 02/10/12
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 322
|
Nathan heaved a large *sigh* as they walked along the road.
The mage named Ktonos had informed him of a quest which would take their small group to a Gate. For helping the mage reach it, which he made clear would be no small task, Nathan would be rewarded by the mage by being sent 'home' to Moralor - or as close as could be reasonably determined.
What more could he ask? Nathan had resigned himself to helping the mage even before the part about possibly being sent back to the realm of Moralor was mentioned. He could not sit idle, for to do so was to die - alone, miserable, and in a foreign realm. If left to his own devices, Nathan would certainly fall into deep despair. He HAD to join this mage, he determined.
Ktonos' other companion, a slient barbarian type known only as Ting, was as stoic as Nathan was despondent. Perhaps between the three of them, they would reach this Vast Gate, and each could gain the thing that they most desired.
Nathan still didn't like the odds. He knew of the dangers Ktonos spoke of - not directly, of course, but familiar enough with dangerous places to know that they could use some additional sword-arms and perhaps a healer. A divinely-blessed healer, not one with mere bandaging skills as Nathan possessed.
Only time would tell. The small band continued on in silence.
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Elewan
Expert Poster
Last On: 06/24/09
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 112
|
Kotonos' journal, encoded entry:
What a pitiable assemblage I've formed. Not one has the wit to outthink a turnip. When I decided upon adventuring as the way to increase my prowess and locate the components I need, I never anticipated that my primary difficulty would be the tedium of dealing with henchmen.
No, a phallus shaped vegetable is not amusing.
Putting rocks in your associate's pack needlessly expends his strength. It is not the height of humor.
Yes, I did hear you loudly expel gas, however is is not the grand accomplishment that you think. A common bovine does it quite well, and at least has the sense not to be amused by it.
Now the drudges are mumbling about appointing a leader. I cannot comprehend why these groups always choose some charismatic idiot to lead them. Yes, let's select the charming dolt who's going to lead us cheering over a cliff, rather than the adept who can keep us safe and accomplish the objective. When I finally finish the lever, it won't be like that at all. No, not at all.
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Ghool
Forum God
Last On: 08/24/11
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 1503
|
From the shadows he watched them. It had been so long since he had done anything but wander, watch, and observe.
But, soon. Soon he would do more. But he would bide his time.
"One does not live so long, and uncover the secrets I have without patience. Yesss, they will come...all of them...."
His plan began to unfold, and soon he would take form. Flesh. Bone. it had been long, but soon what he sought would be within his grasp.
"Except for these fools."
All his knowledge, his foresight, his incantations, and all his spells pointed to them. And they would prove to be his downfall. Of course, unless he acted first.
"These fools!"
If he had teeth, he would have grated them. And if he had a mouth, spittle would have flown from it. But he had neither, not for a long long time. Soon he would, and when he did these adventurers would be broken.
The meandering caves and tunnels were a veritable maze, and he languished in their frustration, their anger, their anguish, and their pain. He watched, and waited, hearing their words. What they said, out loud and in their thoughts. He watched, he listened, and he plotted.
"Soon will be my time. And they will come to me, oh yes, they will come."
As they drew near, he faded back into the shadows. Perhaps in his arrogance, he let himself too close. Perhaps the dwarf might sense him?
It was too late to consider, for his plan was already in motion.
Soon he would breathe the air again. Soon he would taste. Soon he would touch, smell, and do all the things he once did.
Soon he would inflict his most horrible sufferings upon these few.
If he had lips, he would have smiled.
|
| « Last Edit: on: Jul 7, 2006, 2:52AM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Mpskydog
Forum God
Last On: 06/15/11
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 1054
|
He was testing him…of that, Dorac was certain. But why now, of all times and places? For certain, Moradin – like any deity – worked in ways only He could understand. And this wasn’t the first time that Dorac’s desire to keep things simple and quiet and the tenants of his religion had come to odds. The wizard, a necromancer perhaps given his propensity for negative energy and spells to animate the undead, was certainly posing a problem. Ktonos could not be allowed to continue his disrespect for the dead; though neither could this Brennan and his sword, Ting. Both had continued despite first Dorac’s request and later his warning. Time would tell whether or not they will adjust, but Dorac could no longer turn a blind eye.
Nathan seemed harmless enough for the moment, partly because he seemed motivated by a desire to solve this mystery and not merely by greed for money or power. And, of course, even Purple could occasionally stir trouble. But so far she had behaved surprisingly well.
…still, despite the canon of Moradin’s Order, Dorac could not draw too much attention to his charge. The Defenders would not abide by it, and it seemed there was no lack of powerful evils in this place.
Mpskydog~
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
LadyRolePlay
Forum God
Last On: 09/27/08
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 751
|
Rhodrica Vrech Madoc an adolescent verging on young womanhood with a big name... In those long ago days..when Aurion was a mortal her family had served this man who would one day be a god. A member of the family since that long ago day, always sent a son into the ranks to become a paladin or cleric and serve the royal family that were descendents of Aurion. The family..minor nobility so lived the unremarkable and staid existence from generation to generation...until Rhodrica came along and several familar precedents were broken, through no fault of her own, moving the family out of their very very comfortable, overinflated view of themselves and the world.
What happened you might ask?... Well first of all Rhodrica alas was the ONLY child born to her parents. Much to the very great disappointment of her father.. there was no male heir forthcoming, and he never failed to make that disappointment clear to Rhoddy..Both Mother and Father..were calm, even cold, staid folk who had somehow begotten an imaginative, emotional, impulsive child so unlike themselves. She much preferred running about playing in the streets where her natural leadership abilities found a fun if unproductive outlet. It was at that time she took for herself the name Purple Moon or Purple if you will, only giving her birth name as an utterly last restort. If a prank had been played or mischief done one and all knew where to look...always.. for Rhodrica and her gang were always to be found at the root of it.
And so life went on until one fine day as Rhoddy entered adolescence and puberty set in, at which point another VERY VERY awful, to her parents thinking, phenomena exerted itself *deep sigh*. Rhoddy became subject to surges of wild, uncontrolled magics...uncontrolled for the most part that is, especially when she became excited or overly upset, which alas was her natural state of being most of the time.
Ever ready to find a "fun" outlet for these new abilities she and her group set up what to them was a harmless prank...much as childern today would toilet paper a house. This involved a grease spell..some not inconsiderable amount of webbing from yet another fun spell she knew and the store of a cranky shop owner. Well to make a long story short.. that was the last straw. The twelve year old was summarily grounded until she could be sent..as far away as possible to what would be today called a military academy.. a paladin training school of Aurion. Her father called in every favor, and pulled every string available to him to get the child enrolled. Luckily for him, he had had a long and distinguished career.
The ordered, disciplined life would have been the undoing of Purple or the schoolmasters, hard to tell which, but for one thing. The idealism and very very good heart of Purple. Exposed to the teachings and code of paladins and clerics of Aurion. Her imagination caught fire and that emotional intensity found outlet in the saying..."and evil shall..never triumph". Ohh how she spent day after day daydreaming of the time when she would smite evil and slay dragons...Well reality and fantasy oft are at logger heads with each other. That impulsive idealism often ment a child apt to jump in where wiser (and more disciplined) folk ought not to tread. In other words..following orders and instructions.."was a problem". Still none doubted her heart was in the right place. In all martial studies she excelled whether it be learning a weapon or strategy. Books, lectures, and libraries were to be avoided at all cost and her academics was mediocre at best. Then there was also that not inconsiderable problem of that magical side of her. That part of her was still not under total control and magic was frowned upon by those noble teachers of hers, who viwed anything not a gift from Aurion with suspicion. Laying of hands was heartily approved of but not..alas.. a sleep spell, especially when said spell was apt to just erupt at the most inconvient of times.
As graduation day approached the outcome..of her future was still very much in doubt..with all factors weighing in, it was not at all certain they would grant paladinhood or clerical status to the girl..no matter how good her heart or how well she did at military tatics and weaponry. Her fate seemed sealed when.. as they practiced for graduation she got to horsing around with some of the others and let off ..accidentally, a sleep spell putting her instructor sound asleep for the rest of the day. Summoned to the CO's office she was roundly chewed out and told she was not fit to serve. At that news the child's heart broke and in despair she was sent back to quarters and ordered to stay there. Purple..tears in her eyes stood gazing into the starlit night. Without thinking she climbed to the top of the great tree that stood outside her window to better see the night sky. Her eye caught one particularly bright star and her eyes widened as it continued to grow in brillance filling her vision. From the glow stepped a shimmering figure..that surely was the epitome or ideal of any paladin. The man smiled sweetly at her and gently lay a hand on her tear stained cheek..brushing them away. "Rhodrica..Rhodrica..", he softly said. "Your family child has served me time out of mind . And of them all you shall serve me best and foremost. You will come to understand that what to you is a handicapp and defecit is instead a wonderful gift with which to serve ME, for you were born outside the weave and fabric of existence and time. Child, tis not easy to be born outside the weave tis true, I of foremost of all know this!" And laying his hand as if in benediction on the crown of her head, Rhodrica felt for the first time, a sense of profound love,peace, bliss, and a sense of belonging such as she never had in all her life. "Yes you will oft feel lonely and alone...your path uncertain and unclear, for it is a path rarely trod and the way oft not clear. But know this my child and champion.. you are never alone.. for I AM ALWAYS with you..and inside you", and tocuhing her heart he said, "and you are never alone.. I abide in you and you child abide in me.. and we are NOT seperate."
As Aurion began to fade away Rhodrica reached out to grab hold of him, only to lose her balance and fall crashing to the ground unconscious. The noise brought people running. They pulled up short at sight of the unconscious girl who exuded from her body a golden glow that was fading, the visible effect of her encounter with the god. Well...when all was said and done Rhodrica DID graduate with her class, a long way from their ideal student.. bottom of the class it is true, but she did graduate. Not by the wildest streach could they make her into a full paladin but none could deny Aurion had set his hand upon her and as a cleric of HIM the gentle soul graduated.. Why?.. Well you see there was the matter of that glow so many had seen before it faded and the fact that she when she woke she unmistakeably and unfailing time after time exhibited the gifts of the blessed that can only come from the one's god. Finally there was the undisputable miracle of the fall from a very very great height that she survived without so much as a bruise or small cut.
After the visit from Aurion Rhodrica's life was forever changed as such things always tend to do. From that day forward.. she came to posses and inner certainty and confidence she'd never before had. Ohh it would be a long long time before the phrase "I didn't mean to" didn't automatically spring from her lips, to be sure, but no longer would she be ashamed of who and what she was. And never ever was she to feel as if she walked blind and alone down a dark path..knowing that the hand of her beloved god was on her.
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Ghool
Forum God
Last On: 08/24/11
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 1503
|
The clang of metal-shod feet echoed through the halls. The old dwarf tilted his head toward the sound, and as he did, the clang of boots stopped, and was replaced by slightly muffled voices. He could catch just a few words of the conversation, but one voice he recognized was his assistant's, Gaskel.
He had served the dwarf for many a year. But the old dwarf could not recall off-hand how many Gaskel had served him. Truly it had been a long time, and perhaps the old dwarf's memory wasn't as good as it used to be.
The old dwarf continued with his work, dipping his brush back into the solvents, rinsing it clean of pigments. So very little gave him peace anymore, but painting always did, as it did in the old days....before he was betrayed.
The voices interrupted his thoughts, as they now seemed to be slightly raised, as though one of the conversees were becoming agitated. He continued laying down the pigments, layer after layer, building three-dimensional images with subtle layers of colour...it was during these times that the old dwarf was ever lucid. It was then that he put the brush down, a memory overcoming him, and in doing so, he picked up a piece of charcoal and began to write.
Unaware of how much time had passed, the old dwarf had just finished his passage on a scrap of paper when the door burst open.
"Sir! I bring news from the entry corridor, and the caverns west of the mines!", it was a duergar soldier the old dwarf didn't recognize, but there were so many, rarely did he ever. The young dark dwarf was rough, and disheveled, as though he had sprinted from the entry corridor itself. Gaskel stood behind the young soldier, a grim look upon his face.
The old dwarf turned from his painting toward the young soldier, revealing his face to him. As he did so, the young soldier flinched, as the younger ones so often did when faced with their Lord and Master.
"..rrr...nnngh...Yesss? What news do you bring young one?", replied the old dwarf, his left eye twitching as it always did. The young duergar couldn't help but look at the floor when he spoke,
"Intruders, Sir! As you asked, we were to report any intrusions from the outside once the Gates opened, and there are some, Sir. Very Formidable. They wiped out my entire unit."
"...nnnghrrrr....Did they?", looking past the young soldier at Gaskel, the old dwarf gave a single curt nod. Gaskel gave a quick nod in return, and shut the door, leaving the old dwarf alone with the young duergar.
"rrr...nggah...Come see my new masterpiece young one...it...hnnngaah...it's one of my best so far!", the old dwarf smiled as he spoke.
********
Gaskel called over several dwarves once leaving the old dwarf alone with the young soldier.
"Intruders. Dispatch double patrols.", he said as he called over several armoured duergar. Gaskel, and the rest of the company of dark dwarves turned as they heard the screams from the closed door behind them.
"He at it again?", one of the soldiers had asked.
"Apparently so. You have your orders.", answered Gaskel, waving the soldiers forward to the entry caverns.
|
| « Last Edit: on: Jul 11, 2006, 11:32PM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Mpskydog
Forum God
Last On: 06/15/11
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 1054
|
What precisely drives a man to certain acts akin to madness? Could being swept away by magic and separated from one’s life and love be enough? Certainly, or so it would seem. Dorac paused to remove his helm, wet a cloth from his waterskin, and wipe his face and brow. They had stopped once more to rest, and though he would be on guard soon, the dwarf could not seem to prevent his mind from wandering to Nathan. Only a short time ago Dorac could not help but admire the scout for his cool exterior and self control. And now, after several outbreaks in the mines – two of which could have proven fatal had the group not managed to track down Nathan – Dorac could not help but see the churning emotions inside. Right there, in those mines, he – yes, the mines...
Dorac’s mind finally found something better to concern itself with, at least for a time. As he readjusted his armor and settled in for watch, he remembered the strange ore the Duergar were collecting and the weapons and armor they wielded. It had been only a tale told over meals, shared by elders who recounted the stories of dwarves long past who had once wandered far abroad in the deeper rock and stumbled upon brief veins of this wondrous material. Yet here it was in abundance, what seemed to be the very same as spoken of in story. Close enough to touch, recalled Dorac, as a sizable chunk rested within his own pack. This he intended to return to his clan as proof of the ore’s existence. He could not bare the burden of carrying any worthwhile amount with him, this piece would not even be enough to fashion the blade of a dagger. And, in truth, he couldn’t even be certain how the lump he had would react once they left the mountain.
...if they left the mountain.
Mpskydog~
|
| « Last Edit: on: Jul 25, 2006, 9:51PM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Swashbuckler
Extreme Poster
Last On: 02/10/12
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 322
|
Nathan stood a somber guard while the party rested yet again. He understood the need for the spellcasters to pray or to meditate and study, but his own sense of urgency was grating against his better judgment.
His eyes glazed over momentarily, remembering his harrowing experience in the rough caverns, where he ran off in blind rage, taking the fight to any who stood against him. Or was it blind rage?
He had heard her voice ... his Lillinah. What's more, he'd heard her crying for him to come and rescue her, as if she was right around the next corner. He heard her as plain as he could hear Dorac, or Purple, or Ktonos ... or even the sword called Ting. That's why he'd charged off, not because of some preternatural bloodlust.
But it had happened more than once. Both times, he thought he could feel a 'tug' from the amulet that he wore - the amulet she had given to him on the night where they had professed their love for each other. It wasn't as if the amulet were pulling against him, more that ... well, he couldn't really describe the sensation. He pondered all of this for a while before arriving at the marketplace.
There, his unexpected encounter with the tawdry little duergar merchant-wench had left him bitter. She thought to ply his interest in a certain axe with lustful suggestions. Once he understood her offer (much to his amazement), it was no matter to dismiss her immoral deal. His heart, even his very soul, belonged to Lillinah. He even heard Lilli's voice after his rebuke of the duergar vixen, thanking him for his fidelity.
He absent-mindedly ran a finger along the amulet, knowing he would do whatever it took to aid the mage Ktonos in finding the Vast Gate. The promise of the idea that the mage could find a way to return him to Lilli's side was too powerful, too all-consuming in his mind.
And yet, he had rested little. His normally jovial and care-free nature had been rubbed raw these past few days by their surroundings, his mental anguish, and a definite lack of sleep. He knew the others could likely see circles under his eyelids. He also knew that he had been more harsh and snippy recently, and for his part, he regretted it.
Was he going mad? Was he truly hearing his lost love? Was there something about the locket he wore that acted as a conduit between them?
Nathan didn't have the answers, and that was what frustrated him most. All he could do was aid the party, find the Vast Gate, destroy this great alienist mage who currently ruled over it, and try to get back to his love.
They had now dealt with the twisted monstrosity that used to be Wellfast, surrogate uncle of Purple's, who was corrupted by the fell energies of the alienist mage. During the fight, Ktonos had become ... infected with something. According to Purple, if he didn't take a certain slimy fungus as a remedy every time he had an onset, he would die. Nathan couldn't let that happen ... he had to protect Ktonos at all costs. And there was much yet to do.
Nathan's eyes burned from fatigue, and he took a moment to rub them. No time for rest. The party now moved into the Twisted Caverns ...
|
| « Last Edit: on: Aug 1, 2006, 11:34AM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Mpskydog
Forum God
Last On: 06/15/11
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 1054
|
It had felt like days since Dorac had become separated from the others. It had happened quickly enough during a fight in which enemies seemed to swarm from all directions of the tunnels. As such, the party quickly became spread out and as the battle wore down, each began to pursue their own quarry seeking a death blow before making their way back to the others. Dorac was one such who, when he finished his last foe and looked to the group, realized he had indeed put some distance between himself and his companions. He couldn’t hear the rambunctious comments of Purple, the mumbled remarks of Nathan, or even the jibing insults of Ktonos and Ting. Slowly he attempted to wind his way back to them, struggling to make sense of the tangled mass of footprints and blood that lay stretched out before him.
He selected what he thought to be the most obvious path, and indeed it led him to where the heart of the battle had once played out. To the dwarf’s disappointment, however, it was to no avail: The rest of the group was not to be found. And so while not entirely unaccustomed to navigating underground passages, yet at the same time bereft of any real skill as a tracker, Dorac began combing the twisting tunnels…
It seemed folly at first as he found himself tracking and backtracking time and again. Occasionally Dorac would stumble upon the carcass of some fallen beast and hope against hope it had been the work of his companions. Still, the scavenging gibberlings and carrion-feeders destroyed any chance of recognizing a definite cause of death. Indeed, at times they cleaned the passages of debris so well that even with his stone cunning Dorac found recognizing previously-visited portions of the tunnels nearly impossible. That changed, however, when the dwarf’s ears caught the sound of a familiar voice. It was Rhodrica, and from the sound of it she was chattering on about how the others need to watch themselves in a fight and not be so reckless or some such. The voice was faint, however, and it took Dorac some time to discern the direction of its source. Eventually the best Dorac could do was follow what he hoped to be the correct path, trying desperately to keep within range of the sound. He had considered bellowing out to the others on more than a few occasions, in hopes that they could then surmise the location of one another and meet. But he decided against drawing any additional unwanted attention from the creatures roaming the caverns.
…in time, Dorac came upon the others, in a large, star-lit dome of a room. He was greeted (surprisingly) enthusiastically by the party, and was rather at a loss when both Rhodrica and Nathan expected that the dwarf had run across the wizard during his time in the tunnels and henceforth done away with the foul thing…just where was that wizard anyhow?
Mpskydog~
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Xiphias
Extreme Poster
Last On: 08/14/08
View Profile
Message Player
United Kingdom
Posts: 309
|
Helmfast university, one of the finest structures ever constructed by man or dwarf. Carved from the towering cliff face and guarding the entry to the city of Helmfast it has been a beacon of civilisation for centuries.
"Very stiring Azreal, but that's not why we're here today is it?"
"No Melphador, Today is the start of the annual Helmfast games, a week long event held on the square mile of plaza outside the gates of the university. A free for all scramble of events ranging from ferret jugling and spider jousting to the highest forms of magic and the most refined of the arts."
"Indeed, and this year looks to be as good as ever with perhaps the most anticipated event being the insane ranting, I'm informed that the champions have been practicing extra hard".
To be continued...
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Ghool
Forum God
Last On: 08/24/11
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 1503
|
He sat flexing his hands instinctively, opening and closing his fists. He had been doing it for a while now, and just noticed what he was doing. Looking down, he opened and closed the palm, staring at it as though it weren't his own.
It wasn't.
"Strange how such activities revive themselves after so long. Even though it has been some time since I had a body, old reflexes and habits still remain.", he said aloud, looking over at his servant, the demonic flesh of his servant pulsating. It sat quietly, and did not answer, but then, he didn't expect an answer from a nearly mindless servant.
The flow of power from this soul he took was great indeed, just as he knew it would, after finding out that the girl was not close enough to the Divine source to be of any use to him.
It was a shame, and he certainly did regret not being able to consume her life-force and body. But no matter, Aurion, even in his Divine wisdom could not forsee his plan. He shifted in the seat, hanging one leg over the side of the chair,
"Strange, some of the stiffness still remains.", picking up a mirror he turned his face left and right, "I still look like him, even though I have shaved that disgusting beard from this face, but soon I shall shape it to my needs." He laughed, looking back at his servant, "As I shaped you my friend, long ago. Surely the Duke was angered when I took one of his most powerful servants for my own!"
He threw back his head an laughed, knowing that he had out-smarted one of the ancient Dukes of Hell, and just recently, one of the 'wise' Gods of Good.
"What a fool Aurion was to entrust his power to mortals! As easily as taking the rattle from an infant I have devoured some of his Divine Will and made it my own!", he stood, the mirror dropping to the floor and shattering into small fragments.
Stretching, he cracked his neck several times, and stood to face the creature composed of stiched-together demonic parts.
"What the girl does not suspect is that I am ready for her, and her foolish Aurion.", he chuckled again, and the demon-thing smiled, although it was uncertain at what it was smiling about.
"Well my friend, she is coming, and we only have a few years to prepare. We must be ready, for I know she will bring her compatriots", he turned on his heel, disappearing into the shadows, chuckling lightly to himself all the while.
|
| « Last Edit: on: Sep 8, 2006, 9:53PM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Mpskydog
Forum God
Last On: 06/15/11
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 1054
|
Firestorm Peak was behind him, the Gates closed for another twenty-some odd years, and the group had drifted apart. They had searched together for a time, he and Rhodrica, looking for any information concerning the being responsible for her father’s death. But they had scarcely found any lead at all before the messenger had arrived. A single dwarven runner – odd, some may say, for it’s a common belief that dwarves are naturally built for speed and not distance – who carried no standard or heraldry. Indeed, not even the message bore an identifiable signet: A sure sign that it was from the Defenders. The runner was off before Dorac had the time to acknowledge him. Left alone in his corner of the tavern Dorac could only imagine how the runner had found him. And yet they had, as sure as the letter in his hand was proof enough. No matter how far away and how secretive the Defender’s oath forced him to be they always managed to find their members when the time came. He casually broke the unmarked wax seal and flipped open the message.
It was written in alternating lines of ancient Thorass and modern dwarven and it took him two reads to ensure that he had translated the script correctly. Then he promptly crushed the paper in his hand and stood from his table. Purple was still out and about somewhere, and he knew he’d not have time to give her forewarning of his leave, but he made sure to tell the bartender to inform her of his absence in his stead, and that he would contact her when he had the chance. Tossing a few coins on the bar to settle his meal and drink and tossing the crumpled message into the fire (remaining just long enough to see the paper curl to black ash and turn first slightly transparent and then a cherry red before lifting away among the smoke), he left to gather his things.
...the message had been simple enough. The Cult, while now pacified near the mountains of his homeland, has been found to have numerous branches, and its boughs are thick with members. Having found no method to neither secure nor destroy his charge meant that Dorac had only a single recourse: To return to the road and keep moving. The coffer seemed exceptionally heavy that night as he settled it in his pack.
Mpskydog~
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Swashbuckler
Extreme Poster
Last On: 02/10/12
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 322
|
After the events at Firestorm Peak and the loss of his beloved Lillinah's amulet, Nathan separated from the group, emotionally devastated. He left word with Purple where he could be contacted in the event that she found conclusive evidence of the location of Acererak, because no matter how bleak his own situation, he would not turn his back on a friend.
He returned to the Duergar kingdom under Firestorm Peak for a time, learning much and honing his skills in their community. His somber visage was oft-remarked upon by the gray ones, calling him "kuldar-glar", a name he did not discover the meaning of until much later.
Still the Duergar were hospitable, many times bordering on reverent in his presence for the part he played in removing the alienist mage and his cohorts. He was gifted with a new suit of armor and a wicked axe by the grateful gray dwarves, and their dark ale was beyond compare, which they provided in buckets for his insatiable thirst.
But even such hospitality and easy living could not stop his memories, and he longed for other places in which to lose himself. Thanking the gray ones for all they had done for him, he left the Duergar behind. He journied far across the realm, finding all kinds of work as a sellsword and brigand, including a few years as First Mate on an infamous pirate vessel.
It was on this vessel, the Pridefall, that his dwarven captain, Thulgen, explained that the term "kuldar-glar" was a duergar bastardization of the old dwarven language, and meant 'axe-butcher' ... or 'he who butchers his foes with a savage axe' (to slow-witted surface folk).
His travels took him far, and his name became legendary, both for good and ill - but always there remained the shattered memories; Lillinah's last cry to him as she faded back into the Vast Gate foremost among them.
It was his fault!
He had not trusted the other visions of her in the depths of Firestorm Peak! It was his lack of faith in her that severed them for all time. Circumstances and the madness of the time in Firestorm Peak aside, it was his fault for failing to trust in their love. She would not have him back, even if he managed to find another way to get to her ...
Now a haunted, dark man, Nathan longs for any adventure that will keep his mind off of his past. He has tried to drown his sorrows in strong drink, the companionship of other women, and in the death he brings to his foes in combat - nothing has been able to fill the massive, gaping hole in his heart.
His mood is continually grim, and it has been years since a genuine smile crossed his features - at least, one not brought about by the dim haziness of being into his cups.
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Ghool
Forum God
Last On: 08/24/11
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 1503
|
She felt him slip away. The magic that bound them was no more, consumed, and destroyed for a mere fleeting moment with Him. Darkness swept in all around her, and she felt like she was being pulled apart by unseen hands. She felt as though her very soul were being scoured clean.
The vision of his face remained, burned into her eyes...she lifted her hands to her face, but felt nothing, as though it were no longer there. The blackness gave way to light. She was unsure of how long she stayed in that cold blackness, but it felt like years. With no way to gauge time, or even a body to feel, she could not tell how long it was she spent there, in nothingness.
A man stepped forth from the light, his hand outstreched, a bemused smile upon his lips. He had a strange gait, and as he appraoched, he appeared to be walking with a limp, as though one of his legs were stiff. It was then that she noticed that she was no longer surrounded by the blackness. The light and sun reflecting off the sand was blinding, and she had to squint and shade her eyes with her hand to see this stranger at all.
"Come, girl, your time to be re-united with Him is nigh. Soon he will be here, and he shall seek you out.", he said, his voice, soft and gentle, as though he truly understood her pain. His eyes were soft, and he wore odd clothing, archaic, would be the proper word, and in his other hand, he twirled an elaborate cane made of the purest electrum.
Surely such a man with such presence would be divine. She thought perhaps she had passed on, although it didn't feel like she died when the Gate had closed her off from him. She felt as though she sat in darkness, nothing...just waiting.
But now this man had saved her. Saved her from remaining lost for eternity. Only one thing mattered to her....what was his name? She could conjure his face, but had it been so long she had forgotten his name? A tear rolled down her cheek.
The stranger stepped forward, and softly wiped the tear away.
"Come child, he is waiting, and I shall help you be together...forever."
He smiled, and she thought she heard a hint of sarcasm in his voice. But, surely one who saved her from that dark prison could be nothing but benign.
She looked up, and saw nothing but pity and sadness in his eyes, still holding out his hand, waiting for her to take it.
Only one thing mattered. Him.
She took the strangers hand, and in a flash of light and smoke, they were gone. The wind swept by, scouring any trace either had been in the desert that day.
|
| « Last Edit: on: Sep 9, 2006, 10:32PM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Elewan
Expert Poster
Last On: 06/24/09
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 112
|
For anyone else, spending months tracking down the copy of Promiad's "Nature of Time" with Eregion's notes in the margins, putting together an effective team to ascend the Irontop mountains, deal with the grey monks there and pick their way through the traps guarding the hidden library, and then finding that the book had been recently removed would be devastating. For Ktonos, it merely confirmed his suspicions.
This time, however, he was ready. He glanced around to see if an interruption was likely. His companions were barely recognizable on the floor. It was too bad, really, that their contract didn't specify that Ktonos was to raise them after reaching the library. Live and learn, and all that.
Ktonos pulled a scroll from his pack and began pronouncing the magical words very carefully. A pink glow outlined every surface in the room. There was the impression of speed, but nothing changed until in a flash an outline appeared on the shelf where the book had been. Two days. Ktonos waved his hand and there was the impression of slower movement until the outline of a man appeared standing before the shelf. In slow motion he reached and pulled the book from the shelf, held it in front of him and looked at it. Then, against all probability, he turned to where Ktonos was standing, lifted his head, smiled, and made a vulgar gesture.
Anticipated! How was it possible? The last three items he had sought out were gone when he arrived at their hiding places. And now, when he was ready to discover the thief, even that was anticipated. "Calm down," he told himself, "Think logically." Was it anticipation, or some power see the future or manipulate time? He reviewed the vision of the creature taking the book. Hmm. The look and the vulgar gesture missed Ktonos' vantage point by a few degrees. Anticipation, then. He glanced around the room. This was the logical spot to do this kind of viewing. Who knows, perhaps the perpetrator had done the same thing with the other items, simply figuring that Ktonos would eventually cast this type of spell?
Two important questions remained: Who was this, and what was he after? Hopefully he could at least answer the first. Ktonos pulled out another scroll. Perhaps the thief hadn't anticipated this. He read the scroll carefully and thousands of twinkling sparks drifted down, enveloping the creature and then vanished. Now he simply had to wait.
As he waited, Ktonos speculated about his antagonist's possible motives. Could he be after what Ktonos was after? While in the beginning Ktonos had thought that Caluss' journal would be unassailable since it was not magical and no one else knew the code, he now had the power that even starting from scratch deciphering it would not be beyond him. There was also the possibility that Caluss had divulged some of the information before his death. If the thief also wanted to create the lever, there would be a confrontation eventually since Ktonos had already collected many of the necessary items.
On the other hand, it could be more personal than that. It was only in the last few years that there had been any indication that someone was interfering. Could he have made a powerful enemy somewhere, or simply come to the attention of a malevolent being? If so, then the creature was simply goading him into a confrontation. . .
A spark returned, and then another. In a few seconds thousands of them swarmed around him. "That was quick," he thought. Obviously this creature was well-known and took few pains to conceal his identity and actions. Dozens of names came flowing into Ktonos' mind along with thousands of actions, each crueler than the next. A lesser mind could have made no sense of what seemed like a thousand voices talking at once, but Ktonos merely filed it all away until a whisper matched something he already knew. One name -- Acererak.
Ktonos sighed and broke the spell. At least it was progress. He knew who it was now, and he had a pretty good idea of where he needed to go. If his companions from Firestorm peak still lived, he even knew some people to accompany him. Still there was much to learn. Could such a creature even be permanently destroyed? Were there any exploitable weaknesses? Had anyone returned from an assault on his lair? Ktonos figured that the research wouldn't take him that long. While he was considering what he would need, a thought struck him. What if such a creature as this managed to create the lever? A cold fist tightened around his stomach. It would be the end of everything. . .
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Ghool
Forum God
Last On: 08/24/11
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 1503
|
The desert wind whipped about them on the cliffs, the black-clad men, grim looks on their faces, hardened and leathery skin, scarred and pock-marked were some, but the priest finding his way along the narrow walkways didn't care. He was after one thing, and if using these hardened fool ruffians was a means to that end, then so be it.
The cloaks they wore hung still upon their backs, even though the wind roared over the thin stone walkways incessantly. Certainly magic, the priest noted, and not ones to be underestimated for certain. Perhaps there was more to this troupe of bandits than there first appeared. He would be cautious in his dealings then. No mistakes.
As he approached, their scowls seemed to deepen. No mistakes. He needed the Stone if the ceremony was to be complete, and it had been to long. The dwarf had avoided them too long. Now it was time to turn the Hunted into Hunter. But it had to be done right, properly motivated. It was the only sure way to get the Stone. No mistakes.
After much discussion, the deal had been struck.
The Stone would soon be in his hands. Instead of chasing him, soon he would chase them. And after that, it was only a matter of time before he had the Stone.
One thing was left for the bandits to do. Kill his brother. Surely then he would come running into their arms.
No mistakes.
****************
He sat in his chair, once again examining his face, turning it left and right, scrutinizing it as though it were a fine piece of art. To this man it was.
"I have shaped it well, have I not? Surely this is a sign that my power is growing? It looks nothing like the original, and yet it pulsates still with the Power of the Divine!", he looked back at the demonic thing, expressionless as a doll.
"But I need more...something else...", he rubbed his chin, twirling the shining cane in the other hand. He could still not understand why ancient mortal habits, and deficiencies he experienced in his last lifetime would again manifest in this current body, but he shook the thought away as quickly as it came.
"He smiled, yes, of course. How exciting!", he clapped his hands at the idea, the demonic servant seeing it's master's elation, smilled and clapped as well.
"You see," he continued excitedly, as though he were a child, playing a game, "...what can we use to our advantage? Mistrust, betrayal, oh what lust, and passion that will evoke! Surely I must make haste, and gather what I'll need. Oh, they certainly won't be expecting this, oh no!"
The demon-thing trudged after it's master, a smile upon it's face, and if it knew better, it could have sworn it saw it's master licking his lips as though he were about to feast upon the most succulent deer, and drink the most delicious wine.
|
| « Last Edit: on: Sep 12, 2006, 9:31PM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
|
|
|
