Out of the Apple Cart into the Cellar
After ensuring Khel was secure with the Elf, Dror went back into the townhouse to ensure that anDrok didn’t botch things up, after all, he was merely a henchmen and likely would trip over his own words telling the guards an unlikely story.
After passing the main gate, with an impressive display of Singing and Archery, the Elf and our Hero Khel managed to get past the guards, despite Khels constant display of bravado. For the love of the Elves, he was throwing apples at the guards while I was trying to woo our way past the guards. “Fool of a Rennighar”
We soon parted our ways with Gort and began the long walk to the farmhouse.
The sun was on the horizon when at long last the farm house was in sight.
“Hey Khel, isn't that the farmhouse over there?”
“I don’t see anything yet…wait, maybe it is. You sure have keen eyesight my friend.”
“Yes, the advantage of a proper diet of vegetables and fruits with an unmatched physical regime and living a healthy life and my elven heritage has blessed me with superior vision.”
The look of disgust, mixed with boredom on Khels face was evident from a mile away. Deciding that this comment wasn’t worth a rebuttal, the team ( I use this term loosely) approached the farmhouse.
“This place is abandoned?” ask Foloshal.
“Yes, it would seem so, but only just recently”
Upon entry to the house, it was very dark. But Foloshal's Elven eyes could clearly see that there was a hole in the entryway dropping to the floor below. With the grace of an Elven dancer, Foloshal limberly jumped to the side and Khel, a little less gracefully followed the Elf into the house.
“Hey F, we should go down there and see what we can find?” mutters Khel, ever the curious one.
Khel, in his infinite wisdom, begins rummaging through the house looking for rope.
“Must be some rope around here somewhere hey F?”
“Hey, where’d you go?”
“I’m down here you crazy human, even your type knows how to build a set of stairs…”
Khel, a little embarrassed, walks down the stairs to the floor below and upon realizing his find, smiles with great glee.
“We have found the mother load!” cries out Khel.
For in fact, the pair had found a well stocked cellar with all the contents still intact.
Khel quickly searches around and sure enough finds a tap and slams it home into the nearest keg marked “Special Vintage” and begins to pour.
Hmmm…I wonder if this Elf can handle any drink, wonders Khel.
“Hey F, I bet you three silver pieces you can't drink three pints of this in half an hour?”
“I bet your right Khel, as a refined gentle elf as myself, I would sip it slowly and enjoy the aromas and flavors gracefully, unlike your barbarous drinking methods of imbibing everything in sight as quickly as possible”
“Your fucking boring you know that, you’re killing me slowly but surely with your crap.”
“Excuse me, I am anything but boring, why back home I cam considered a rebel,always on the move and adventurous”
“Yeah, well out here in the real world you’re a stick in the mud!”
“I never!” states Foloshal
“I believe it” challenges Khel with a twinkle in his eye. “ Let the drinking begin!”
Well, two hours later, singing and merriment could be heard from miles away, it was fortune or simply plain good luck that nobody was nearby as the pair drank very, very heavily and were so inebriated, they could see stars in the corner of their vision.
“Hey Khel ,this stuff is good for human wine hey?” hiccups Foloshal.
“No shit Sherlock! Man, anyway, tell me, what made you crawl from underneath the moss in elvenholme and come join the land of the living anyhow?”
Having lost all control, Foloshal tells the tale of the 7 rods (this story takes place before Foloshal finds out its one rod broken into 7), the rods purpose and his quest to find them.
“I’m going to come back to Elvenholme and prove to the nobles that we need to unite our races once more and that the Elves can once again face the other races in a position of leadership and power”
“Wow, isn’t that great. I’m feeling a little sleepy thanks to your stories, I'm gonna crash”
Khel and Foloshal find the nearest stack of rubble and fall asleep, otherwise known as passing out.
The next day, with heads full of hammers, Foloshal and Khel await the arrival of anDrok and Dror.
“What’s that cloud I see in the distance?” enquires Foloshal.
“Holy shit, its the Palentine Army!!” “it looks like they are heading toward my fathers homeland! We must make haste and warn him”
“Should we not wait for anDrok and Dror”
After an hour the train of soldiers, flag bearers and supply chains finally rolls by into the distance. Then, four small clouds of dust could be seen in the distance…
Androk and Dror, arriving at the farmhouse, can see the pair are in a sorry state, leaning on each other for support.
“Hey boss, I brought you guys some horses, you okay?
“Yes, we are fine, however we must make hast and get to my father”
“I could lead you across country and at the speed this army is travelling I'm sure we could arrive before them” states Foloshal.
“So be it, lets ride!!”
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Surrounded
anDrok shook his head at Khel’s ridiculous escape from his prison cell grabbing the bottle of wine out of the young nobles hand before he had a chance to drink down another large swig. “Khel, I’m glad you’re out...really I am...but have you thought this through? This is Lord Palantine...isn’t he going to...”
No sooner had the thought come to anDrok, the young nobles protector, it came to fruition. A large contingent of Lord Palantine’s Guards were just pulling up in front of the Rhennigar Townhouse both at the back door and at the large oaken front doors embossed with the faint outline of the family crest, a large black dragon in a field of silver stars.
A large burly guard in plate mail, obviously battle hardened and a giant among men approaches the door with a contingent of other Palantine’s Knights. “Open in the name of Lord Palantine. We have come to retrieve Khel Rhennigar. By force if necessary.”
anDrok looked at the Ularani, “You got him into this you filthy bugger. What now?”
Looking flush from drink the young noble staggered away from the front hall while looking over his shoulder and motioning to Dror to follow him, “my friend...would you be so good as to stall our Lordly friends and then meet us at the old farmhouse we’ve been meaning to explore just to the South of the city?”
“How are you going to get out of here now? They’re swarming like ants out there.”
“Ah, my muscle bound friend...I have a few tricks up my sleeve yet that you have not seen. Trust me...At the farm house on the morrow.”
Dror closed the trap door that led down into the short underground passageway as he was bidden by his new friend as a torch was lit from up ahead. Pulling on a backpack that was hidden in an alcove Dror and Khel travelled only a short way in the rough hewn earth that smelt of feces and wet dirt before coming to an iron ladder.
Pushing their way through the trap door the pair find themselves face to face with an elf.
“Well, well, Khel. Getting yourself in trouble I hear.”
“Yes, Foloshal, got a plan?”
“Of, course, notice the apple cart here...yes well climb in and we’ll bury you two in apples while I have the pleasure of singing to the front gate guardesmen until they let us past. Gort, your apple merchant friend here has been most helpful.”
No sooner had the thought come to anDrok, the young nobles protector, it came to fruition. A large contingent of Lord Palantine’s Guards were just pulling up in front of the Rhennigar Townhouse both at the back door and at the large oaken front doors embossed with the faint outline of the family crest, a large black dragon in a field of silver stars.
A large burly guard in plate mail, obviously battle hardened and a giant among men approaches the door with a contingent of other Palantine’s Knights. “Open in the name of Lord Palantine. We have come to retrieve Khel Rhennigar. By force if necessary.”
anDrok looked at the Ularani, “You got him into this you filthy bugger. What now?”
Looking flush from drink the young noble staggered away from the front hall while looking over his shoulder and motioning to Dror to follow him, “my friend...would you be so good as to stall our Lordly friends and then meet us at the old farmhouse we’ve been meaning to explore just to the South of the city?”
“How are you going to get out of here now? They’re swarming like ants out there.”
“Ah, my muscle bound friend...I have a few tricks up my sleeve yet that you have not seen. Trust me...At the farm house on the morrow.”
Dror closed the trap door that led down into the short underground passageway as he was bidden by his new friend as a torch was lit from up ahead. Pulling on a backpack that was hidden in an alcove Dror and Khel travelled only a short way in the rough hewn earth that smelt of feces and wet dirt before coming to an iron ladder.
Pushing their way through the trap door the pair find themselves face to face with an elf.
“Well, well, Khel. Getting yourself in trouble I hear.”
“Yes, Foloshal, got a plan?”
“Of, course, notice the apple cart here...yes well climb in and we’ll bury you two in apples while I have the pleasure of singing to the front gate guardesmen until they let us past. Gort, your apple merchant friend here has been most helpful.”
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Dror Shraga
Name: Dror Shraga
Race: Human -Ulroni
Born: Unknown Location
Descriptors:
2 Wants to be treated as an equal to other human races (Mind)
3 Proud to be Ulroni (Mind)
2 Destined to remove the Ulroni curse (Spirit)
2 Always Alert (Matter)
3 How'd he do that? (Matter)
4 Ulroni Warrior Mage (Matter)
2 Battle is Glorious (Chaos)
Quirks:
1 Ulroni Curse
2 Country Bumpkin
Skills:
9 Master of the Spear 6D6
3 Acrobatics 2D6
3 Wilderness Survival 2D6
6 Circle of Destruction 4D6
6 Circle of Movement 4D6
Prime Affinity:
7 Magic
0 Ulroni Knowledge
Matter 3
Mind 2
Spirit 1
Chaos 1
Being an Ulroni, Dror is an outcast who refuses to accept his fate. He is destined to free his people from the curse that has haunted them for a millenia. Having grown up with the nomadic Ulroni people, Dror is ignorant of the ways of the rest of the world. He seeks justice and respect for his people.
Race: Human -Ulroni
Born: Unknown Location
Descriptors:
2 Wants to be treated as an equal to other human races (Mind)
3 Proud to be Ulroni (Mind)
2 Destined to remove the Ulroni curse (Spirit)
2 Always Alert (Matter)
3 How'd he do that? (Matter)
4 Ulroni Warrior Mage (Matter)
2 Battle is Glorious (Chaos)
Quirks:
1 Ulroni Curse
2 Country Bumpkin
Skills:
9 Master of the Spear 6D6
3 Acrobatics 2D6
3 Wilderness Survival 2D6
6 Circle of Destruction 4D6
6 Circle of Movement 4D6
Prime Affinity:
7 Magic
0 Ulroni Knowledge
Matter 3
Mind 2
Spirit 1
Chaos 1
Being an Ulroni, Dror is an outcast who refuses to accept his fate. He is destined to free his people from the curse that has haunted them for a millenia. Having grown up with the nomadic Ulroni people, Dror is ignorant of the ways of the rest of the world. He seeks justice and respect for his people.
Friday, July 10, 2009
I must be loosing my mind!!
“I must be loosing my mind! I cannot believe that I have got myself connected with these humans, and an Ulronai no less, what my people would think of me in my homeland. Rushing about from City to City, running from the law and subjecting myself to the speed of humanity has boggled even my clever mind.”
These humans, they live for such a short time that they insist on living every moment as though it would be their last. Running from here to there, I have done more traveling these past few weeks then I would have ever imagined. If my family ever saw me traveling on horseback past groves of trees and lakes without stopping to speak to the plants and verifying if there are any unique herbs they would be appalled! The landscape goes by at such great speeds I feel myself wanting to stop, take a moment , maybe a few years, to analyze the way the grass grows in this region would be fabulous!
I have witnessed birds I rarely get to see land nearby and did not take the time to note them, their flight path, their colors, this pains me greatly….
If it were not for my Quest to find the Rods I would have long ago abandoned this reckless band of “thugs” and miscreants.
Anyhow, enough of these musings
Folashal stands up from his chair and stretches his back. Enjoying the solitude, his wine and some candle light studying “Ahhh, this is more like it”.
Three days ago the crew had arrived at Athring, Homeland to Khel Rennigar and had obtained approval to look through their personnel library. After having reviewed many documents and tombs,finding nothing, it was suggested he go to an old Halfling codger’s house down the street as he has many ancient volumes.
The next day, Foloshal approaches Squarts home. Squart is an old Halfling that sells used books and lives down the street from Khels family home. Approaching the house, Foloshal shakes his head as the home is entirely made of mud, very low to the ground and has a round opening in the front with no visible windows.
“Pray I do not get too dirty in here”
Foloshal knocks on the door.
Knocks again. Then again.
“What the hell is going on out there, don’t you know its breakfast time?” yells an unknown voice
“My apologies, I had thought it was just before noon, shall I come back?” yells Foloshal through the door.
The door opens slowly, hinges nearly broken , it is opened with care. On the other side of the door is the oldest, crinkliest Halfling Foloshal has ever seen. Barely 3 feet tall, even with the wild hair, beard down to the ground Foloshal wonders if he is not actually a Dwarf.
“Its Breakfeast time until its Lunch time young elf.” “ What the hell do you want?”
“I have been told that you have books for sale, may I enquire, if it’s always time to eat when do you sell books?”
“You’re pretty damn smart hey? Or simply a smart ass?” “ I sell books between Lunch and Snack time ya bastard elf, now get the hell out of my door step”
“Excuse me kind sire, but it is of outmost importance I talk with you”
“You got any Elven wine on you? If not, get lost ya bastard”
“As a matter of fact, I do have some fine Elven wine, and a fine human sample I discovered with some friends on the road the other day as well, from the finest estate”
“You some kind of wine connoisseur too hey? Fricking Elves think their so smart.” Mumbled the Halfling. “ Come in and pour me a flagon of your crap and ill be the judge of that ya bastard elf.”
The Halfling steps aside and waves Foloshal in, gingerly closing the door, Foloshal enters the “cave”.
The home is around 40’ round with no visible rooms. A straw mat in the corner, some semblance of a fireplace with no visible chimney, the room stunk like it had just survived a mass fire. However, lying on every possible open space, were volumes and volumes of old, decaying tombs.
“What a unique home you have here” states Foloshal.
“Yeah, it’s nearly as fancy as a castle you idiot.” “now pour me some wine before I call for the town guards”
Squart reaches behind a table and pulls out two very grimy, flagons that look like they had so many years of dirt on them they possible could colonize an entire herb garden.
Spitting In the glasses, he pulls out his shirt from his tunic, gives them a wipe.
“Here we go, cleaner then a whistle, now pour away, assuming you can manage to lift that flagon you weak little smart ass”
Foloshal pours a drink in both flagons, glancing at the tombs nearby.
“So, you interested in books hey,you sure you can read?”
“Yes, I am very astute and specialize in poetry.”
“Poetry! I should have known, so you like boys too then hey you faggot?”
“Pardon me kind fellow, I have never heard of that term but I most certainly like Elven women, not that has any bearing on poetry. In my homeland, it is an honor to sing poetry”
“Yeah, well that’s because you come from the woods where all you fairies dance around and stick it to each other, no wonder you’re an idiot, incenst and the like…”
“Sir, if I may, can I take a look at your books” ignoring his mean little jibes.
“Sure you can ya fairy” as he roars out in laughter.
Foloshal begins to look at the tombs. Picking them up carefully, one by one he reviews the tombs. Taking his time, reading the first few pages of every book. Most are so filthy they need to be cleaned professionally. “ If only I had a few years to clean these off.”
After some time, Foloshal hears a strange noise. Looking over at Squart, the Halfling has fallen over on the ground , beard covered in wine and snoring as loud as a Dragon. The odd noise coming from his buttocks and his mouth at the same time.
“Wow, this guy would match well with Khel” Im surprised if there isn’t a wench hidden in here somewhere as well!” Smiling despite himself, Foloshal continues with his work.
After some time Foloshal opens a tomb and notes that it is written in ancient elvish, and it’s a poetry book!
“Well well, I might as well read this in its entirety, must do justice to this ancient poet!”
Hours later, Squart wakes up with a clamor.
“What the hell is going on in here, who the hell are you?” “oh yeah, its the fairy, you done yet or you waiting for your godmother?”
“Im sure I don’t know what you mean, but I am nearly done.”
“Well its supper time and the time for sellin books is over, so get the hell out of me house before I call the town guards on ye, unless of course ya have some more of that wine?”
“As a matter of fact I do” Foloshal approaches his pack , opening it the flagons have all been emptied.
“It would seem you have drank all of my wine”
“You fricking ungrateful son of a warg, you accusing me of stealing your crappy wine and drinking it all right in front of you without getting caught?”
“I’m sorry, you are right, it must have spilt on the ground” mutters Foloshal;, knowing there is no way this happened.
“Yeah, it spilled on the ground, I should charge you to clean my dirt floor ya stupid elf”
“So here is the deal, you can take that fairy book for 7 gold pieces, and another gold piece for the cleaning charge and another for making me drink that foul wine equals… 12 gold pieces”
“I’m sorry isn’t that…ah, no you’re right of course, 12 gold pieces it is”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought , you cant add hey? You sure you can read that garbage…anyhow, it’s a deal. Hand over the 13 gold and be on your way”
Foloshal, ever the one to avoid a conflict, hands over Squart the 13 gold, packs away the book and departs.
Cut scene.
Later that evening, in the privacy of his temporary study, Foloshal nearly drops the book in his excitement at his discovery. A poem. A beautiful poem written about The Seven Rods as One.
Reading the poem over and over again, it is clear to Foloshal that the writer must have in depth knowledge , as references that are rarely known are mentioned.
But, a key sentence catches his eye
“The seven rods, merged as one, 7 pieces they are , what once was one, now is 7, scattered through the heavens, never to be merged again”
“Wow, what a discovery, it would seem it is one rod, broken into seven shards…this Rod would be so powerful, ability to control all the armies of the seven major races, this information must be kept to myself”
These humans, they live for such a short time that they insist on living every moment as though it would be their last. Running from here to there, I have done more traveling these past few weeks then I would have ever imagined. If my family ever saw me traveling on horseback past groves of trees and lakes without stopping to speak to the plants and verifying if there are any unique herbs they would be appalled! The landscape goes by at such great speeds I feel myself wanting to stop, take a moment , maybe a few years, to analyze the way the grass grows in this region would be fabulous!
I have witnessed birds I rarely get to see land nearby and did not take the time to note them, their flight path, their colors, this pains me greatly….
If it were not for my Quest to find the Rods I would have long ago abandoned this reckless band of “thugs” and miscreants.
Anyhow, enough of these musings
Folashal stands up from his chair and stretches his back. Enjoying the solitude, his wine and some candle light studying “Ahhh, this is more like it”.
Three days ago the crew had arrived at Athring, Homeland to Khel Rennigar and had obtained approval to look through their personnel library. After having reviewed many documents and tombs,finding nothing, it was suggested he go to an old Halfling codger’s house down the street as he has many ancient volumes.
The next day, Foloshal approaches Squarts home. Squart is an old Halfling that sells used books and lives down the street from Khels family home. Approaching the house, Foloshal shakes his head as the home is entirely made of mud, very low to the ground and has a round opening in the front with no visible windows.
“Pray I do not get too dirty in here”
Foloshal knocks on the door.
Knocks again. Then again.
“What the hell is going on out there, don’t you know its breakfast time?” yells an unknown voice
“My apologies, I had thought it was just before noon, shall I come back?” yells Foloshal through the door.
The door opens slowly, hinges nearly broken , it is opened with care. On the other side of the door is the oldest, crinkliest Halfling Foloshal has ever seen. Barely 3 feet tall, even with the wild hair, beard down to the ground Foloshal wonders if he is not actually a Dwarf.
“Its Breakfeast time until its Lunch time young elf.” “ What the hell do you want?”
“I have been told that you have books for sale, may I enquire, if it’s always time to eat when do you sell books?”
“You’re pretty damn smart hey? Or simply a smart ass?” “ I sell books between Lunch and Snack time ya bastard elf, now get the hell out of my door step”
“Excuse me kind sire, but it is of outmost importance I talk with you”
“You got any Elven wine on you? If not, get lost ya bastard”
“As a matter of fact, I do have some fine Elven wine, and a fine human sample I discovered with some friends on the road the other day as well, from the finest estate”
“You some kind of wine connoisseur too hey? Fricking Elves think their so smart.” Mumbled the Halfling. “ Come in and pour me a flagon of your crap and ill be the judge of that ya bastard elf.”
The Halfling steps aside and waves Foloshal in, gingerly closing the door, Foloshal enters the “cave”.
The home is around 40’ round with no visible rooms. A straw mat in the corner, some semblance of a fireplace with no visible chimney, the room stunk like it had just survived a mass fire. However, lying on every possible open space, were volumes and volumes of old, decaying tombs.
“What a unique home you have here” states Foloshal.
“Yeah, it’s nearly as fancy as a castle you idiot.” “now pour me some wine before I call for the town guards”
Squart reaches behind a table and pulls out two very grimy, flagons that look like they had so many years of dirt on them they possible could colonize an entire herb garden.
Spitting In the glasses, he pulls out his shirt from his tunic, gives them a wipe.
“Here we go, cleaner then a whistle, now pour away, assuming you can manage to lift that flagon you weak little smart ass”
Foloshal pours a drink in both flagons, glancing at the tombs nearby.
“So, you interested in books hey,you sure you can read?”
“Yes, I am very astute and specialize in poetry.”
“Poetry! I should have known, so you like boys too then hey you faggot?”
“Pardon me kind fellow, I have never heard of that term but I most certainly like Elven women, not that has any bearing on poetry. In my homeland, it is an honor to sing poetry”
“Yeah, well that’s because you come from the woods where all you fairies dance around and stick it to each other, no wonder you’re an idiot, incenst and the like…”
“Sir, if I may, can I take a look at your books” ignoring his mean little jibes.
“Sure you can ya fairy” as he roars out in laughter.
Foloshal begins to look at the tombs. Picking them up carefully, one by one he reviews the tombs. Taking his time, reading the first few pages of every book. Most are so filthy they need to be cleaned professionally. “ If only I had a few years to clean these off.”
After some time, Foloshal hears a strange noise. Looking over at Squart, the Halfling has fallen over on the ground , beard covered in wine and snoring as loud as a Dragon. The odd noise coming from his buttocks and his mouth at the same time.
“Wow, this guy would match well with Khel” Im surprised if there isn’t a wench hidden in here somewhere as well!” Smiling despite himself, Foloshal continues with his work.
After some time Foloshal opens a tomb and notes that it is written in ancient elvish, and it’s a poetry book!
“Well well, I might as well read this in its entirety, must do justice to this ancient poet!”
Hours later, Squart wakes up with a clamor.
“What the hell is going on in here, who the hell are you?” “oh yeah, its the fairy, you done yet or you waiting for your godmother?”
“Im sure I don’t know what you mean, but I am nearly done.”
“Well its supper time and the time for sellin books is over, so get the hell out of me house before I call the town guards on ye, unless of course ya have some more of that wine?”
“As a matter of fact I do” Foloshal approaches his pack , opening it the flagons have all been emptied.
“It would seem you have drank all of my wine”
“You fricking ungrateful son of a warg, you accusing me of stealing your crappy wine and drinking it all right in front of you without getting caught?”
“I’m sorry, you are right, it must have spilt on the ground” mutters Foloshal;, knowing there is no way this happened.
“Yeah, it spilled on the ground, I should charge you to clean my dirt floor ya stupid elf”
“So here is the deal, you can take that fairy book for 7 gold pieces, and another gold piece for the cleaning charge and another for making me drink that foul wine equals… 12 gold pieces”
“I’m sorry isn’t that…ah, no you’re right of course, 12 gold pieces it is”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought , you cant add hey? You sure you can read that garbage…anyhow, it’s a deal. Hand over the 13 gold and be on your way”
Foloshal, ever the one to avoid a conflict, hands over Squart the 13 gold, packs away the book and departs.
Cut scene.
Later that evening, in the privacy of his temporary study, Foloshal nearly drops the book in his excitement at his discovery. A poem. A beautiful poem written about The Seven Rods as One.
Reading the poem over and over again, it is clear to Foloshal that the writer must have in depth knowledge , as references that are rarely known are mentioned.
But, a key sentence catches his eye
“The seven rods, merged as one, 7 pieces they are , what once was one, now is 7, scattered through the heavens, never to be merged again”
“Wow, what a discovery, it would seem it is one rod, broken into seven shards…this Rod would be so powerful, ability to control all the armies of the seven major races, this information must be kept to myself”
Thursday, July 9, 2009
HALVORN AND THE BOYS
FADE IN:
THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE TOWN OF ATHRING, STRONGHOLD OF DUKE TORADOC RENNIGAR.
1. A CROW FLIES PAST LOW TO THE GROUND REVEALING IN THE DISTANCE FIVE MEN RIDING TOWARDS YOU ALONG THE ROAD. IN THE CLOSE FOREGROUND IS THE BACK PART OF A SIGN.
2. THEY WEAR THE CHAIN MAIL ARMOR AND TABERD OF THE ROYAL PALATINE GUARD. The horses bear the royal brand and the saddles are regulation issue.
HALVORN DEXTER, wearing a captain's insignia, rides slightly ahead of the others. He rides stiffly, always slightly in pain. Halvorn is not unhandsome, leather-faced man in his early forties. A thoughtful, self-educated top sword-slinger with a penchant for violence who is afraid of nothing---except the changes in himself and those around him.
Make no mistake, Halvorn Dexter is not a hero---his values are not ours-- he is a sword-slinger, a criminal, a bandit, a killer of men. His sympathies are not for fences, for social justice or better schools. He lives outside and against society because he believes in that way of life and if he has moments of sympathy for others, moments of regret, they are short lived. He is not a 'good man' according to the righteous... To them he is totally bad, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Next to him TADEUS GREYFRID wears the insignia of a sergeant. Tadeus is big, good-natured with a strong sword arm, strong loyalty and, like Halvorn, a bone deep distaste for rules and regulations. He can sing, has more than his share of charm, but believes in nothing except two men, and Halvorn is one.
Behind them ride two brothers, TUTTLE and TECTOR GORCH, dressed as corporals. Tuttle and Tector are big, tough, hot tempered and sudden. They work together, eat together and sometimes sleep together with the same whore. Brutal, vicious in a fight, illiterate, they are always pressing for an advantage and once they get it-- they never let go. They are without loyalty or honor, to anyone except each other and that is limited.
A fifth man wears the uniform of a regular soldier. This is IVOR. Ivor is a good-looking, bilingual Vestrian boy in his middle 20's who has seen so much blood and violence and cruelty under Isak Donverness that he rebelled -- but his rebellion was not for a just cause, his was a one-man revolution against them all. He believes in his family, his village and the inherent dignity of man (some men at least). He is faster than his companions with a sword -- and a better shot with a bow -- but he can't laugh at the loss of love or suffer the loss of pride -- Skeldian pride -- a pride that can kill him, but if it does, he will have no regrets.
3. REACHING THE SIGN THE MEN STOP. Without speaking they begin to brush off their clothing and get their uniforms in order.
4. THE SIGN READS: Athring 1 League.
And underneath, someone has printed:
POPULATION 5682
STAY ON AND GROW WITH OUR COMMUNITY
5. HALVORN AND TADEUS STARE FOR A MOMENT AT THE SIGN, slightly bemused.
TADEUS
Make you feel welcome?
HALVORN
(dryly)
It helps.
TECTOR
What's it say?
IVOR
(baiting him)
It invites us to stay with the community and grow.
It is here, perhaps with time and a small miracle --
that you could be taught to read
Tector looks at Ivor for a long moment, then turns to Halvorn.
TECTOR
I never enlisted to serve with no
smart-mouthed kid.
IVOR
Nor I with dogs.
TADEUS
(grinning at Halvorn)
I'd like to transfer to another unit --
there seems to be dissension in the ranks.
HALVORN
( to Tector and Ivor)
I'll transfer both of you to hell -- just one
more word.
They look at him silently. He means it.
HALVORN
Come on -- we have knifes work to do.
Halvorn spurs his horse and the group starts for town.
(to be continued)
THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE TOWN OF ATHRING, STRONGHOLD OF DUKE TORADOC RENNIGAR.
1. A CROW FLIES PAST LOW TO THE GROUND REVEALING IN THE DISTANCE FIVE MEN RIDING TOWARDS YOU ALONG THE ROAD. IN THE CLOSE FOREGROUND IS THE BACK PART OF A SIGN.
2. THEY WEAR THE CHAIN MAIL ARMOR AND TABERD OF THE ROYAL PALATINE GUARD. The horses bear the royal brand and the saddles are regulation issue.
HALVORN DEXTER, wearing a captain's insignia, rides slightly ahead of the others. He rides stiffly, always slightly in pain. Halvorn is not unhandsome, leather-faced man in his early forties. A thoughtful, self-educated top sword-slinger with a penchant for violence who is afraid of nothing---except the changes in himself and those around him.
Make no mistake, Halvorn Dexter is not a hero---his values are not ours-- he is a sword-slinger, a criminal, a bandit, a killer of men. His sympathies are not for fences, for social justice or better schools. He lives outside and against society because he believes in that way of life and if he has moments of sympathy for others, moments of regret, they are short lived. He is not a 'good man' according to the righteous... To them he is totally bad, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Next to him TADEUS GREYFRID wears the insignia of a sergeant. Tadeus is big, good-natured with a strong sword arm, strong loyalty and, like Halvorn, a bone deep distaste for rules and regulations. He can sing, has more than his share of charm, but believes in nothing except two men, and Halvorn is one.
Behind them ride two brothers, TUTTLE and TECTOR GORCH, dressed as corporals. Tuttle and Tector are big, tough, hot tempered and sudden. They work together, eat together and sometimes sleep together with the same whore. Brutal, vicious in a fight, illiterate, they are always pressing for an advantage and once they get it-- they never let go. They are without loyalty or honor, to anyone except each other and that is limited.
A fifth man wears the uniform of a regular soldier. This is IVOR. Ivor is a good-looking, bilingual Vestrian boy in his middle 20's who has seen so much blood and violence and cruelty under Isak Donverness that he rebelled -- but his rebellion was not for a just cause, his was a one-man revolution against them all. He believes in his family, his village and the inherent dignity of man (some men at least). He is faster than his companions with a sword -- and a better shot with a bow -- but he can't laugh at the loss of love or suffer the loss of pride -- Skeldian pride -- a pride that can kill him, but if it does, he will have no regrets.
3. REACHING THE SIGN THE MEN STOP. Without speaking they begin to brush off their clothing and get their uniforms in order.
4. THE SIGN READS: Athring 1 League.
And underneath, someone has printed:
POPULATION 5682
STAY ON AND GROW WITH OUR COMMUNITY
5. HALVORN AND TADEUS STARE FOR A MOMENT AT THE SIGN, slightly bemused.
TADEUS
Make you feel welcome?
HALVORN
(dryly)
It helps.
TECTOR
What's it say?
IVOR
(baiting him)
It invites us to stay with the community and grow.
It is here, perhaps with time and a small miracle --
that you could be taught to read
Tector looks at Ivor for a long moment, then turns to Halvorn.
TECTOR
I never enlisted to serve with no
smart-mouthed kid.
IVOR
Nor I with dogs.
TADEUS
(grinning at Halvorn)
I'd like to transfer to another unit --
there seems to be dissension in the ranks.
HALVORN
( to Tector and Ivor)
I'll transfer both of you to hell -- just one
more word.
They look at him silently. He means it.
HALVORN
Come on -- we have knifes work to do.
Halvorn spurs his horse and the group starts for town.
(to be continued)
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Let's see you talk your way out of this one
Chapter 2, Let's see you talk your way out of this one
Dropping down to a crouch on the far side of the door in the shadows the young noble waited for his would be executioner….he listened intently as the very faint sounds of a sword being drawn and a key being inserted into the lock bring a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face…Crap..he had been in tight situations before but this wasn’t funny anymore with an Ulrani coming in to kill him….an Ulrani…yes an Ulronai Khel realized….he had only ever heard of the warrior race descendants of Ulro, a great warrior-hero who were now cursed. It must be the fear and revulsion he now felt….Damn….time to focus….
As time stood still as it does in times like this Khel’s mind races back to the information he was able to extract from the guards before throwing him in here…”Verek” is the servants name….it sounds familiar somehow….Focus…Focus…Hope I can convince this Ulronai not to kill me….How did he get in here anyway….where in Asvalak’s name were all the guards?
With a resounding crash the door opened as the warrior burst into the room and Khel tried to trip him. Talking fast the young Noble recalled the curse of the Ulronai and tried to use it to his advantage as the Ulronai crouched at the ready to bring on a second attack, “Hey, I just got in here, it’s not me you want….who put you up to this….did they tell you they were your friends?....you don’t have friends remember?....what have I done to you….I can double whatever they paid you….I could be your friend” Khel smiled as he noticed the Ulronai warriors sword tip drop at those words as he looked about to concede to the Noble’s tongue but all too quickly he swung a resounding roundhouse strike that would have amputated all but the quickest and most agile in Ambrethel…..”Hey none of that…I tell you someone is trying to frame me….Really does it make any sense that you are here trying to kill a Noble of the house of Rhennigar”
This time Khel could tell that he had finally gotten through to the Ulronai, “Ok now put away that big poker of yours, do the right thing, and help me out of here my friend”.
Taking a circuitous route back to the Rhennigar apartments in Cyradon, Khel wondered what to do with the Ulronai Warrior….turning to his killer come rescuer Khel hoped he was going to get the answer he wanted….”What do you think about getting a little bit of revenge my friend?....So tell me….who was it that hired you anyway? Where were all the guards? Weren’t you a bit suspicious? What’s your story man? Oh my name is Khel Rhennigar by the way and I can tell you right now that anDrok is not going to like you…you know you really should try wearing some better clothes to blend in a bit better…you’re not a very good assassin…sorry…don’t get me wrong you seem like a good warrior and all but that hodge podge of clothes won’t work. Here let me set you up with something more suitable….and would you answer my questions already….what do you mean which ones? Sheeesh maybe you and anDrok will get along….Do I talk too much? No don’t answer that….I’ll send for one of the servants to bring some meats, and ale down to this room….you can stay in this curtained, adjoining room till they leave and I’ll send anDrok to get you set up with a room. Try not to get on his bad side…kind of tough with the aura you give off but I’ll lay down the law for him….speaking of law….I guess I’m a fugitive….hmm….better do something about that. Don’t mind me I need to step out for a couple hours.
With a sigh of relief the exhausted Ulronai Warrior sat beside the curtain enjoying the quiet and solitude that a room without Khel afforded. This being “friends” thing was a tiring business. It would have been simpler to chop him in half….too late now. He’d have to settle for the guy that set him up….although if the guy didn’t stop talking it might be fun to at least cut out his tongue!!
Dropping down to a crouch on the far side of the door in the shadows the young noble waited for his would be executioner….he listened intently as the very faint sounds of a sword being drawn and a key being inserted into the lock bring a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face…Crap..he had been in tight situations before but this wasn’t funny anymore with an Ulrani coming in to kill him….an Ulrani…yes an Ulronai Khel realized….he had only ever heard of the warrior race descendants of Ulro, a great warrior-hero who were now cursed. It must be the fear and revulsion he now felt….Damn….time to focus….
As time stood still as it does in times like this Khel’s mind races back to the information he was able to extract from the guards before throwing him in here…”Verek” is the servants name….it sounds familiar somehow….Focus…Focus…Hope I can convince this Ulronai not to kill me….How did he get in here anyway….where in Asvalak’s name were all the guards?
With a resounding crash the door opened as the warrior burst into the room and Khel tried to trip him. Talking fast the young Noble recalled the curse of the Ulronai and tried to use it to his advantage as the Ulronai crouched at the ready to bring on a second attack, “Hey, I just got in here, it’s not me you want….who put you up to this….did they tell you they were your friends?....you don’t have friends remember?....what have I done to you….I can double whatever they paid you….I could be your friend” Khel smiled as he noticed the Ulronai warriors sword tip drop at those words as he looked about to concede to the Noble’s tongue but all too quickly he swung a resounding roundhouse strike that would have amputated all but the quickest and most agile in Ambrethel…..”Hey none of that…I tell you someone is trying to frame me….Really does it make any sense that you are here trying to kill a Noble of the house of Rhennigar”
This time Khel could tell that he had finally gotten through to the Ulronai, “Ok now put away that big poker of yours, do the right thing, and help me out of here my friend”.
Taking a circuitous route back to the Rhennigar apartments in Cyradon, Khel wondered what to do with the Ulronai Warrior….turning to his killer come rescuer Khel hoped he was going to get the answer he wanted….”What do you think about getting a little bit of revenge my friend?....So tell me….who was it that hired you anyway? Where were all the guards? Weren’t you a bit suspicious? What’s your story man? Oh my name is Khel Rhennigar by the way and I can tell you right now that anDrok is not going to like you…you know you really should try wearing some better clothes to blend in a bit better…you’re not a very good assassin…sorry…don’t get me wrong you seem like a good warrior and all but that hodge podge of clothes won’t work. Here let me set you up with something more suitable….and would you answer my questions already….what do you mean which ones? Sheeesh maybe you and anDrok will get along….Do I talk too much? No don’t answer that….I’ll send for one of the servants to bring some meats, and ale down to this room….you can stay in this curtained, adjoining room till they leave and I’ll send anDrok to get you set up with a room. Try not to get on his bad side…kind of tough with the aura you give off but I’ll lay down the law for him….speaking of law….I guess I’m a fugitive….hmm….better do something about that. Don’t mind me I need to step out for a couple hours.
With a sigh of relief the exhausted Ulronai Warrior sat beside the curtain enjoying the quiet and solitude that a room without Khel afforded. This being “friends” thing was a tiring business. It would have been simpler to chop him in half….too late now. He’d have to settle for the guy that set him up….although if the guy didn’t stop talking it might be fun to at least cut out his tongue!!
Dror comes to Cyradon
It was late in the day when Dror finally made it to the gates of the city.
'This is best' he thought 'I will be less noticeable in the dim light'. After months of travel away from his tribe, Dror was now used to, and expected the disdain that ordinary people everywhere heaped on him. The curse of the Ulronai people lay heavily on him as he passed unnoticed through the city gates. A woman walking his way noticed him and quickly moved accross to the other side of the street, staring at him as he passed. He was used to this now, every person he had met during this last year's journey had treated him as if he were an outcast.
He noticed a taven sign on a nearby building and headed towards it. As he entered, he braced himself for the inevitable; the place fell silent as he entered and several faces scowled at him before the room returned to its former state. As he approached the bar, people shuffled aside, anxious to stay away from him. The tavern keeper, standing back fom the bar as he approached spoke contemptuously to him "What business have ye here?"
"I bowl of stew and a flagon of ale if you please."
"I don't please. All I've got is soup for the like of you."
"Then soup, thank-you"
The tavern keep moved away to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of watery soup. Placing it on the table he said "That one silver piece, and be on yer way once you've done with it. I don't want no loitering around here by the like o you."
A silver coin for a bowl of soup was outrageous but Dror nodded his assent and placed a silver coin in the tavern keepers palm. No sooner had he done so, than a man from accross the room approached and collared the tavern keeper. "If you're going to charge a silver for this, then at least give my friend here a piece of bread to go with it."
Dror looked up at the stranger, a puzzled look on his face. "Why are you doing this?" he said to the stranger.
"I don't know, you look new to town and in need a friend, mind if I sit?"......
Cut Scene: Two hours later.
Dror walks out of the tavern with a fully belly and a few pints of ale in him. He has a new friend, something he hasn't had before. What's even better he's got work. As his new friend says, "for a few minutes work you can make a lot of money". It's too good to be true. Soon his purse will be full again. He'll meet his friend here tomorrow and then get to work.
Cut Scene: Next day.
"OK. Here's the plan. I've got here a guards uniform that should fit you. It's all been arranged, the other guards won't question you and they have been told to expect a new guy today. Once you get in, find that bastard Rennigar and do him. After that, just walk out and I'll meet you here tomorrow and we can celebrate. Got that?"
"Yah sure. Are you sure this will be OK?"
"Hey, I'm your friend remember? You can trust me. Just do as I say and everything will be alright."
'This is best' he thought 'I will be less noticeable in the dim light'. After months of travel away from his tribe, Dror was now used to, and expected the disdain that ordinary people everywhere heaped on him. The curse of the Ulronai people lay heavily on him as he passed unnoticed through the city gates. A woman walking his way noticed him and quickly moved accross to the other side of the street, staring at him as he passed. He was used to this now, every person he had met during this last year's journey had treated him as if he were an outcast.
He noticed a taven sign on a nearby building and headed towards it. As he entered, he braced himself for the inevitable; the place fell silent as he entered and several faces scowled at him before the room returned to its former state. As he approached the bar, people shuffled aside, anxious to stay away from him. The tavern keeper, standing back fom the bar as he approached spoke contemptuously to him "What business have ye here?"
"I bowl of stew and a flagon of ale if you please."
"I don't please. All I've got is soup for the like of you."
"Then soup, thank-you"
The tavern keep moved away to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of watery soup. Placing it on the table he said "That one silver piece, and be on yer way once you've done with it. I don't want no loitering around here by the like o you."
A silver coin for a bowl of soup was outrageous but Dror nodded his assent and placed a silver coin in the tavern keepers palm. No sooner had he done so, than a man from accross the room approached and collared the tavern keeper. "If you're going to charge a silver for this, then at least give my friend here a piece of bread to go with it."
Dror looked up at the stranger, a puzzled look on his face. "Why are you doing this?" he said to the stranger.
"I don't know, you look new to town and in need a friend, mind if I sit?"......
Cut Scene: Two hours later.
Dror walks out of the tavern with a fully belly and a few pints of ale in him. He has a new friend, something he hasn't had before. What's even better he's got work. As his new friend says, "for a few minutes work you can make a lot of money". It's too good to be true. Soon his purse will be full again. He'll meet his friend here tomorrow and then get to work.
Cut Scene: Next day.
"OK. Here's the plan. I've got here a guards uniform that should fit you. It's all been arranged, the other guards won't question you and they have been told to expect a new guy today. Once you get in, find that bastard Rennigar and do him. After that, just walk out and I'll meet you here tomorrow and we can celebrate. Got that?"
"Yah sure. Are you sure this will be OK?"
"Hey, I'm your friend remember? You can trust me. Just do as I say and everything will be alright."
Foloshal Silverleaf
Name: Folashal Silverleaf
Race: Elven
Born: Ildra Borala, Nephew of current ruler, Tririonsathymar Silverleaf
Descriptors:
2 Silent as an Elf in a brease
3 Quick as an elven archer
2 Lover of nature
2 Unwaverring Will
2 Never Panics (dont worrry, we have plenty of time)
3 Determined
Skills:6 Bows 4d6
3 Nature Sense 2d6
5 Tracking 3d6
2 Herbalism 1d6
5 Beurocracy 3d6
2 Persuasion 2d6
3 Observation 2d6
3 Stealthy 2d6
2 Singing 1d6
2 Riding 1d6
3 Command 2D6
Prime Affinity:
0 Nightvision
0 Elvenholme Knowledge
Matter- 2
Mind 1
Spirit 1
Chaos 1
If i dont know you i will be distant and quiet.
My goal is to bring the races back to their unified state and to become King of kings of the elves.
Loves fine living , wine, parties and the good life. Hates "camping" and being filthy.. Feels that there is a lack of respect from the Elven nobles and is planning on going on the road and finding the four pieces of the Elven Crystal Rod of Rulership "that will show them"
Race: Elven
Born: Ildra Borala, Nephew of current ruler, Tririonsathymar Silverleaf
Descriptors:
2 Silent as an Elf in a brease
3 Quick as an elven archer
2 Lover of nature
2 Unwaverring Will
2 Never Panics (dont worrry, we have plenty of time)
3 Determined
Skills:6 Bows 4d6
3 Nature Sense 2d6
5 Tracking 3d6
2 Herbalism 1d6
5 Beurocracy 3d6
2 Persuasion 2d6
3 Observation 2d6
3 Stealthy 2d6
2 Singing 1d6
2 Riding 1d6
3 Command 2D6
Prime Affinity:
0 Nightvision
0 Elvenholme Knowledge
Matter- 2
Mind 1
Spirit 1
Chaos 1
If i dont know you i will be distant and quiet.
My goal is to bring the races back to their unified state and to become King of kings of the elves.
Loves fine living , wine, parties and the good life. Hates "camping" and being filthy.. Feels that there is a lack of respect from the Elven nobles and is planning on going on the road and finding the four pieces of the Elven Crystal Rod of Rulership "that will show them"
The Rods of Rulership, an Elven History Lesson
The Legend of the Silverleaf Crystalline Rods of Rulership
Over 8000 years ago the Races were united and traded freely across the Lands. Elven Kingdom, Dwarves, Halflings, Humans and multiple other races interacted with free will and happiness. Then the Change began.
Of course, it all started with the humans. Fisindor Rawliad, the original Emperor of the Free Lands as they were once called, began to see power and personnel gain in taxing and corrupting the relationship formed amongst the main “good” races. Trade routes began to suffer and tolls were formed on key trading routes. Agreed upon patrols across the lands were discontinued by the Rawliad family. The Elves, Dwarves and other races could not keep up the patrols on their own and renegade Orcs, Goblins, Trolls, Giants and even worse abominations began to unite and form war parties of their own.
Back in Elvenholme the King of all Kings, Elvyrsathaar Silverleaf and his beautiful Queen were given no choice. With the constant threat of war upon their lands they decided to build the Crystalline Shafts of Ruler ship. They decided with Elvyrsathaar’s unique ability to form magical rods that this power could be used for the betterment of the seven unified races and once again unite them all under one banner.
For fifty years he tolled at creating the rods. Each one was formed of four crystalline leafs around a central rose bud of ivory. All set upon a Rod of pure adamantite, each Rod was engraved with the race it controlled. He imbued the ability of Awe, Leadership and Command to levels of untold power over the races. One formed for Humans, One for elves, one for Dwarves , one for Halflings , (insert other three races) and another Rod in which history has forgotten its purpose.
Meanwhile, during the creation of these 7 Rods the great wars began. Each race defending its own territory versus the unified monsters, the elves were never able to meet with the other kingdoms and provide the gift of rulership over each others armies and once again unify the kingdoms. Every Kingdom retreated back into their old ways of defending their own kingdoms.
The King of Kings, once he had completed the Rods, began to suffer an unknown, incurable sickness due the power of his soul he imbued into the rods.
Fisindor, ever the spy and knowledgeable ruler discovered the Rods through his network of spys and henchmen and sent an emissary into Elvenholme with the hope of rousing the Silveleafs into meeting.
The Elven Seers foretold of a great corruption amongst the leaders and the risk of meeting Fisidor was too high to accept. They appealed to their leader to destroy the rods before they fell into the wrong hands.
Upset beyond compare, as a final act of courage, the Elven rulers broke apart the Rods into four pieces each and send them across the lands to all the corners of the world, never to be reborn again.
This legend is the driving force of Folashal Silverleaf and he believes if he could find the Rod of Elven Rulership he once again could unify the Elven races and bring them back into power, of course, he cares not for the other rods....
Over 8000 years ago the Races were united and traded freely across the Lands. Elven Kingdom, Dwarves, Halflings, Humans and multiple other races interacted with free will and happiness. Then the Change began.
Of course, it all started with the humans. Fisindor Rawliad, the original Emperor of the Free Lands as they were once called, began to see power and personnel gain in taxing and corrupting the relationship formed amongst the main “good” races. Trade routes began to suffer and tolls were formed on key trading routes. Agreed upon patrols across the lands were discontinued by the Rawliad family. The Elves, Dwarves and other races could not keep up the patrols on their own and renegade Orcs, Goblins, Trolls, Giants and even worse abominations began to unite and form war parties of their own.
Back in Elvenholme the King of all Kings, Elvyrsathaar Silverleaf and his beautiful Queen were given no choice. With the constant threat of war upon their lands they decided to build the Crystalline Shafts of Ruler ship. They decided with Elvyrsathaar’s unique ability to form magical rods that this power could be used for the betterment of the seven unified races and once again unite them all under one banner.
For fifty years he tolled at creating the rods. Each one was formed of four crystalline leafs around a central rose bud of ivory. All set upon a Rod of pure adamantite, each Rod was engraved with the race it controlled. He imbued the ability of Awe, Leadership and Command to levels of untold power over the races. One formed for Humans, One for elves, one for Dwarves , one for Halflings , (insert other three races) and another Rod in which history has forgotten its purpose.
Meanwhile, during the creation of these 7 Rods the great wars began. Each race defending its own territory versus the unified monsters, the elves were never able to meet with the other kingdoms and provide the gift of rulership over each others armies and once again unify the kingdoms. Every Kingdom retreated back into their old ways of defending their own kingdoms.
The King of Kings, once he had completed the Rods, began to suffer an unknown, incurable sickness due the power of his soul he imbued into the rods.
Fisindor, ever the spy and knowledgeable ruler discovered the Rods through his network of spys and henchmen and sent an emissary into Elvenholme with the hope of rousing the Silveleafs into meeting.
The Elven Seers foretold of a great corruption amongst the leaders and the risk of meeting Fisidor was too high to accept. They appealed to their leader to destroy the rods before they fell into the wrong hands.
Upset beyond compare, as a final act of courage, the Elven rulers broke apart the Rods into four pieces each and send them across the lands to all the corners of the world, never to be reborn again.
This legend is the driving force of Folashal Silverleaf and he believes if he could find the Rod of Elven Rulership he once again could unify the Elven races and bring them back into power, of course, he cares not for the other rods....
Monday, July 6, 2009
Chapter 1 I've been framed
Chapter 1, I’ve been framed
Setting: The bustling town of Athring, 200 miles South of the capital city of Cyradon in the Mhendarian Palatinate. A White castle set upon one of the higher rolling hills in the area is surrounded by stone buildings radiating out in a concentric circle away from the city at the cardinal points. The cobblestone roads that lead to, or away from the castle come to abrupt halts for the most part after but a mile or two out of the city except for the North and South roads. A young man in his late teenage years looks on at a couple of female servants that have caught his eye lately while ignoring the well appointed and heavily guarded Grande Entry. The Mhendarian Palatinate and Athring have been peaceful for 1000 years and thus there has been much time to amass the finery that adorns the castle and ensures the structure is kept in top form at all times. The Castle in the town of Athring belongs to Toradoc Rhennigar who bellows down to his teenage son who is lost in a carnal imaginary world, “Khel, get up here. I have some work for you to do.”
Looking down the marble staircase one last time at the girls Khel waves goodbye to the girls and raises his eyebrows while nodding his head to show his appreciation of their form before entering the “war room”. “I am at your service Emperor Rhennigar.”
With a wary eye Toradoc looked up to his son, “As much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, please…Our Lord would be none too pleased to hear you referring to me as the Emperor when they have been waiting centuries for “his” return.”
“To Death with them…they sit on their hands enjoying their supposed freedom while we have to grovel at their knees. We’re better than them and we know it.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may son, the sheep don’t get counted on their own so I need you to get out and bring back a tally of the sheep we now have in our lands. It hasn’t been done in a few years now.”
“Ooo, ah…counting sheep….now there’s excitement for you..”
“Before you get too downtrodden wrapped up in your woolly endeavour…funny no?”
“No dad, not funny”
“Anyhow, before you go there is a messenger here with an invitation I’m sure you’re going to want to see”
Running from the room and down the hall Khel nearly bowled over the headmaster of communications, “Where is it, where is it?”
Flourishing a gold embossed invitation stamped with the royal seal the headmaster bowed slightly and presented Khel with the invitation, “You’ve been invited to the King’s 80th birthday party sir”
Khel smiled….Excellent….Alot of beautiful women at these things….although the Lord’s daughter might be there….oh well… a good opportunity to extend the lash of his tongue.
The City of Cyradon, the Main Ball room of the Palatine Castle. A man approaches Khel, he is well groomed, dark black hair, moustache, perfect in many respects…Count Victor Villar.
The Count stroked his moustache while smiling at the young teen in his tight finery wishing for the opportunity to trade places with the young man for but an evening or two, “I see my friend that you have wasted no time noticing the fine fare at this evenings festivities. I’ve noted you have also been talking to many of the friends of the Rhennigar. Well rest assured, I won’t be taking any of the nubile youth off your hands today…in fact I am here because I want to introduce you to someone. Lady Elicia.”
“Why? She some hideous toad in need of a man?”
“No, quite the contrary, she is quite the exquisite specimen of female…ah and here she is now.”
Khel was seldom at a loss for words but the lithe yet buxom beauty daintily strolling over to him in her shimmering dress mesmorized him for a moment before realizing that here was a challenge. A woman worthy of conquest.
Acting quickly, Khel strode forward and deftly grabbed the hand of the beautiful blonde before him, pressing his lips to her hand. “A please…Lady Elicia is it?”
The rest of the evening is a blur as the young teen realizes that he has a challenge on his hands but just as he is about to give up with one tactic he finds that the Lady Elicia is dancing ever closer to him and leaner her head on his shoulder briefly. Finally, Khel has his breakthrough as Lady Elicia is called, she turns to Khel and hands him a key whispering softly, meet me in the sapphire bedroom, 3rd floor in 2 hours.”
Khel can hardly believe his luck as he tries to distract his male appendage by speaking to others to while away the intervening time.
The key slid easily into the heavy oak door’s lock of the sapphire bedroom as Khel slipped in quietly.
His breathing quickened as he noticed the shimmering of the dress draped over a chair and the lithe form shadowed on the four poster bed dimly lit on the far side of the room. As he stripped his finery off and walked forward grinning his face dropped. Oh shit, she’s not moving….not good…not good at all…damn it…she’s dead.
Running for his close Khel barely has time to reach his clothes as the pounding on the door starts as guards scream on the other side “Open this door immediately in the name of the King”
Well….wasn’t this a fine pickle….surely he could talk his way out if it though. Opening the door started talking fast as he was held by two burly guards in Palatine Plate-Mail. “Hey, I found here like that. She invited me up here….I get here and she’d dead”
The guard approaches the silent beauty noting to the guards, “Looks like he choked her to death”
“Hey”, yelled out Khel “I didn’t touch her”
Cut Scene….A shadowy corridor o Lord Palatine’s castle, a servant talking to another man in the shadows,
“Everything is set sire”“Is the Assasin in place”
“Yes sir, he’s ready to go”End Cut Scene
Marching down the corridor between the quad of guards Khel decided he should at least try to get out as much as he could out of the guards before they threw him in the jails. He shouldn’t be there long anyhow as his Dad should have something to say about this issue.
Khel sat in the cell as the straw filled mattress poked him unheeded. The young teen had only been able to get a few snippits from the guards….nothing I can piece together yet…sure has been a while since I’ve been down here….hey if someone killed the Lady Elicia….what’s to stop someone from killing me.
Trying to peer out the small window at the top of the door Khel notes the thump of padded feet rather than booted feet approaching his cell door with purpose. “Oh crap, here it comes.”
Setting: The bustling town of Athring, 200 miles South of the capital city of Cyradon in the Mhendarian Palatinate. A White castle set upon one of the higher rolling hills in the area is surrounded by stone buildings radiating out in a concentric circle away from the city at the cardinal points. The cobblestone roads that lead to, or away from the castle come to abrupt halts for the most part after but a mile or two out of the city except for the North and South roads. A young man in his late teenage years looks on at a couple of female servants that have caught his eye lately while ignoring the well appointed and heavily guarded Grande Entry. The Mhendarian Palatinate and Athring have been peaceful for 1000 years and thus there has been much time to amass the finery that adorns the castle and ensures the structure is kept in top form at all times. The Castle in the town of Athring belongs to Toradoc Rhennigar who bellows down to his teenage son who is lost in a carnal imaginary world, “Khel, get up here. I have some work for you to do.”
Looking down the marble staircase one last time at the girls Khel waves goodbye to the girls and raises his eyebrows while nodding his head to show his appreciation of their form before entering the “war room”. “I am at your service Emperor Rhennigar.”
With a wary eye Toradoc looked up to his son, “As much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, please…Our Lord would be none too pleased to hear you referring to me as the Emperor when they have been waiting centuries for “his” return.”
“To Death with them…they sit on their hands enjoying their supposed freedom while we have to grovel at their knees. We’re better than them and we know it.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may son, the sheep don’t get counted on their own so I need you to get out and bring back a tally of the sheep we now have in our lands. It hasn’t been done in a few years now.”
“Ooo, ah…counting sheep….now there’s excitement for you..”
“Before you get too downtrodden wrapped up in your woolly endeavour…funny no?”
“No dad, not funny”
“Anyhow, before you go there is a messenger here with an invitation I’m sure you’re going to want to see”
Running from the room and down the hall Khel nearly bowled over the headmaster of communications, “Where is it, where is it?”
Flourishing a gold embossed invitation stamped with the royal seal the headmaster bowed slightly and presented Khel with the invitation, “You’ve been invited to the King’s 80th birthday party sir”
Khel smiled….Excellent….Alot of beautiful women at these things….although the Lord’s daughter might be there….oh well… a good opportunity to extend the lash of his tongue.
The City of Cyradon, the Main Ball room of the Palatine Castle. A man approaches Khel, he is well groomed, dark black hair, moustache, perfect in many respects…Count Victor Villar.
The Count stroked his moustache while smiling at the young teen in his tight finery wishing for the opportunity to trade places with the young man for but an evening or two, “I see my friend that you have wasted no time noticing the fine fare at this evenings festivities. I’ve noted you have also been talking to many of the friends of the Rhennigar. Well rest assured, I won’t be taking any of the nubile youth off your hands today…in fact I am here because I want to introduce you to someone. Lady Elicia.”
“Why? She some hideous toad in need of a man?”
“No, quite the contrary, she is quite the exquisite specimen of female…ah and here she is now.”
Khel was seldom at a loss for words but the lithe yet buxom beauty daintily strolling over to him in her shimmering dress mesmorized him for a moment before realizing that here was a challenge. A woman worthy of conquest.
Acting quickly, Khel strode forward and deftly grabbed the hand of the beautiful blonde before him, pressing his lips to her hand. “A please…Lady Elicia is it?”
The rest of the evening is a blur as the young teen realizes that he has a challenge on his hands but just as he is about to give up with one tactic he finds that the Lady Elicia is dancing ever closer to him and leaner her head on his shoulder briefly. Finally, Khel has his breakthrough as Lady Elicia is called, she turns to Khel and hands him a key whispering softly, meet me in the sapphire bedroom, 3rd floor in 2 hours.”
Khel can hardly believe his luck as he tries to distract his male appendage by speaking to others to while away the intervening time.
The key slid easily into the heavy oak door’s lock of the sapphire bedroom as Khel slipped in quietly.
His breathing quickened as he noticed the shimmering of the dress draped over a chair and the lithe form shadowed on the four poster bed dimly lit on the far side of the room. As he stripped his finery off and walked forward grinning his face dropped. Oh shit, she’s not moving….not good…not good at all…damn it…she’s dead.
Running for his close Khel barely has time to reach his clothes as the pounding on the door starts as guards scream on the other side “Open this door immediately in the name of the King”
Well….wasn’t this a fine pickle….surely he could talk his way out if it though. Opening the door started talking fast as he was held by two burly guards in Palatine Plate-Mail. “Hey, I found here like that. She invited me up here….I get here and she’d dead”
The guard approaches the silent beauty noting to the guards, “Looks like he choked her to death”
“Hey”, yelled out Khel “I didn’t touch her”
Cut Scene….A shadowy corridor o Lord Palatine’s castle, a servant talking to another man in the shadows,
“Everything is set sire”“Is the Assasin in place”
“Yes sir, he’s ready to go”End Cut Scene
Marching down the corridor between the quad of guards Khel decided he should at least try to get out as much as he could out of the guards before they threw him in the jails. He shouldn’t be there long anyhow as his Dad should have something to say about this issue.
Khel sat in the cell as the straw filled mattress poked him unheeded. The young teen had only been able to get a few snippits from the guards….nothing I can piece together yet…sure has been a while since I’ve been down here….hey if someone killed the Lady Elicia….what’s to stop someone from killing me.
Trying to peer out the small window at the top of the door Khel notes the thump of padded feet rather than booted feet approaching his cell door with purpose. “Oh crap, here it comes.”
A story of Khels
Khel shivered from the frigid waters beneath him. His powerful frame moved easily towards the shore of Lake Lusarra from the little boat hidden and anchored in the weeds just to the south. Drying himself off with a rough woollen towel that had seen many lonely nights on the tree Khel now leaned on for support the young man looked out to the South where faint lights of the city could just now start to be made out as it got darker.
Cyradon, the place Khel called home was not the easiest place for a rogue to live, especially with a name like Khel Rennigar. The capital of The Mhendarian Palatinate and its Mhendarian knights had a long lasting issue with Khelebria and considered it, the closest lands to the South east, a den of thieves. Not that Khel considered himself a thief by any stretch of the imagination. He knew thieves lived rather short lives. Khel’s calling still eluded him….but until such time as fate decided what it held in store for him he would sow his wild oats despite his family’s remonstrations.
Khel pulled back the scrub from the base of the tree that revealed his personal stash in his favourite swimming spot. Pulling out the bottle of wine he raised it in salute over the beautiful Lake Lusarra that so eloquently shone with the moons soft light. Looking at the bottle after having taken a swig and replacing the stopper Khel furrowed his brow as one side of his face pinched up tightly in annoyance. He was down to the dregs of his bottle of wine given to him by Father Verbald. The High Church’s symbol on the bottle itself were marks of the quality of this particular vintage and he was sad to see it so depleted.
Placing the scrub back in place Khel pulled on his boots and began his treck back to his flat in Cyradon, near the “old wall” which ringed the central part of the city. Cyradon had grown around the wall with well built roads and new buildings to the point the wall encompassed only a fraction of the populace now and could barely be seen upon first entering the outskirts of town. Getting to the Alahadrion road which loosely followed the river of the same name North to the Greyward Mountains Khel wondered what tomorrow would bring. Too bad he hadn’t taken another swig of wine before leaving.
Rumor about Khel: Being bored once he once arranged to have a prisoner who had killed another noble released just to see the political fallout it would cause?
Cyradon, the place Khel called home was not the easiest place for a rogue to live, especially with a name like Khel Rennigar. The capital of The Mhendarian Palatinate and its Mhendarian knights had a long lasting issue with Khelebria and considered it, the closest lands to the South east, a den of thieves. Not that Khel considered himself a thief by any stretch of the imagination. He knew thieves lived rather short lives. Khel’s calling still eluded him….but until such time as fate decided what it held in store for him he would sow his wild oats despite his family’s remonstrations.
Khel pulled back the scrub from the base of the tree that revealed his personal stash in his favourite swimming spot. Pulling out the bottle of wine he raised it in salute over the beautiful Lake Lusarra that so eloquently shone with the moons soft light. Looking at the bottle after having taken a swig and replacing the stopper Khel furrowed his brow as one side of his face pinched up tightly in annoyance. He was down to the dregs of his bottle of wine given to him by Father Verbald. The High Church’s symbol on the bottle itself were marks of the quality of this particular vintage and he was sad to see it so depleted.
Placing the scrub back in place Khel pulled on his boots and began his treck back to his flat in Cyradon, near the “old wall” which ringed the central part of the city. Cyradon had grown around the wall with well built roads and new buildings to the point the wall encompassed only a fraction of the populace now and could barely be seen upon first entering the outskirts of town. Getting to the Alahadrion road which loosely followed the river of the same name North to the Greyward Mountains Khel wondered what tomorrow would bring. Too bad he hadn’t taken another swig of wine before leaving.
Rumor about Khel: Being bored once he once arranged to have a prisoner who had killed another noble released just to see the political fallout it would cause?
anDrok Smith
Character Name: anDrok Smith
Race & Gender: Human Male
Character Concept: Guardian and friend of a Nobles Son.
Descriptors: (7pts)
· Holy Crow are you strong! (Matter) 2
· You’re fast for such a big guy (Matter) 3
· Don’t tempt me you’ll never know how I might react (Chaos) 2
Traits: (18pts)
· Sword 4d6 (6pts)
· Shield 1d6 (2pts)
· Pugalism 2d6 (3pts)
· Observation 2d6 (3pts)
· Stealthy 1d6 (2pts)
· Knowledge of the Smithy and Metals 1D6 (2pts)
Gifts: (0pts)
Cultural Affinity (Mhendarian Palatinate Squire)
Mind: 0
Matter: 2
Spirit: 0
Chaos: 1
Story Points: 0
Beliefs: Khel is my friend and needs to be protected, especially from himself and his mouth
I cannot resist the loins of a woman
You can’t trust a woman.
Race & Gender: Human Male
Character Concept: Guardian and friend of a Nobles Son.
Descriptors: (7pts)
· Holy Crow are you strong! (Matter) 2
· You’re fast for such a big guy (Matter) 3
· Don’t tempt me you’ll never know how I might react (Chaos) 2
Traits: (18pts)
· Sword 4d6 (6pts)
· Shield 1d6 (2pts)
· Pugalism 2d6 (3pts)
· Observation 2d6 (3pts)
· Stealthy 1d6 (2pts)
· Knowledge of the Smithy and Metals 1D6 (2pts)
Gifts: (0pts)
Cultural Affinity (Mhendarian Palatinate Squire)
Mind: 0
Matter: 2
Spirit: 0
Chaos: 1
Story Points: 0
Beliefs: Khel is my friend and needs to be protected, especially from himself and his mouth
I cannot resist the loins of a woman
You can’t trust a woman.
Khel Rennigar
Character Name: Khel Rennigar
Race & Gender: Human Male
Character Concept: Young, Carefree Noble following power and trouble.
Descriptors: (11pts)
· Very Persuasive (Mind) 2
· Amazing Liar (Mind) 3
· Lighting Reflexes (Matter) 2
· Welcomes Unknown (Chaos) 2
· Determined to Win (Spirit) 2
Traits: (31pts)
· Sword 2d6 (3pts)
· Shield 1d6 (2pts)
· Crossbow 2d6 (3pts)
· Persuasion 4d6 (6pts)
· Politics 1d6 (3pts)
· Bureaucracy & Law 2d6 (3pts)
· Observation 2d6 (3pts)
· Seduction 1d6 (2pts)
· Streetwise 2d6 (3pts)
· Stealthy 2d6 (3pts)
Gifts: (7pts)
Cultural Affinity (Mhendarian Palatinate Noble)
Connections: Sometimes it pays to have friends in high (or low) places. Often times, knowing the right person can aid you in finding
the information you're looking for, or help get you out of all kinds of scrapes. Once per session you can drop a name to find
out the political, social, commercial, and/or military status of the local vicinity (from town to country, depending on
circumstances). Additionally, if your character is ever convicted or condemned within his own culture (or any cultural
affinities he possesses), he may burn this gift to receive a pardon or some other form of absolution. A character using the
gift in this way permanently loses it.
Mind: 2
Matter: 2
Spirit: 1
Chaos: 1
Story Points: 1
Beliefs:
· People feel better when lied to
· No other family but the Rennigar family is fit to rule
· I can talk my way out of any situation
Race & Gender: Human Male
Character Concept: Young, Carefree Noble following power and trouble.
Descriptors: (11pts)
· Very Persuasive (Mind) 2
· Amazing Liar (Mind) 3
· Lighting Reflexes (Matter) 2
· Welcomes Unknown (Chaos) 2
· Determined to Win (Spirit) 2
Traits: (31pts)
· Sword 2d6 (3pts)
· Shield 1d6 (2pts)
· Crossbow 2d6 (3pts)
· Persuasion 4d6 (6pts)
· Politics 1d6 (3pts)
· Bureaucracy & Law 2d6 (3pts)
· Observation 2d6 (3pts)
· Seduction 1d6 (2pts)
· Streetwise 2d6 (3pts)
· Stealthy 2d6 (3pts)
Gifts: (7pts)
Cultural Affinity (Mhendarian Palatinate Noble)
Connections: Sometimes it pays to have friends in high (or low) places. Often times, knowing the right person can aid you in finding
the information you're looking for, or help get you out of all kinds of scrapes. Once per session you can drop a name to find
out the political, social, commercial, and/or military status of the local vicinity (from town to country, depending on
circumstances). Additionally, if your character is ever convicted or condemned within his own culture (or any cultural
affinities he possesses), he may burn this gift to receive a pardon or some other form of absolution. A character using the
gift in this way permanently loses it.
Mind: 2
Matter: 2
Spirit: 1
Chaos: 1
Story Points: 1
Beliefs:
· People feel better when lied to
· No other family but the Rennigar family is fit to rule
· I can talk my way out of any situation
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