It takes Mendez a few minutes to find a climbable route and he clambers back up to the path ten minutes later.
The Bandits are all distracted and squabbling over the bulging saddlebags filled with gold coins.
With Longbow in hand, Mendez walks to within thirty feet of them and coughs to get their attention. When they fail to respond, he coughs a little louder.
The Bandits spin around, crossbows still on the floor where they were dropped.
The Bandit leader licks his lips; still it’s six against one…
Trying to control his temper, Mendez shouts out; “Why did you kill the old man?”
The leader of the Bandits glances at his crossbow before answering; “How else is a man to get rich, but to kill another and to take their stuff?”
Mendez shakes his head, “There has to be a better way.”
Before he finishes talking however, the Bandits dive for their weapons.
Three are dead before they even hit the floor, the other three before they can turn and return fire.
Mendez sighs deeply as he walks over to their dead bodies.
He resignedly searches the Bandits corpses and takes their stuff. He then takes Garris’ gold filled saddlebags and hefts them over his shoulders.
Garris had told him he had no family and had made no requests…
Mendez sighs again. Money seems to find him no matter where he goes.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Magical Inconsistencies
I sent an email around asking for all the character's Magical items.
It could be that what you 'think' you have, you don't or vice versa.
Please respond before Tuesday.
Also, who's playing on Tuesday?
It could be that what you 'think' you have, you don't or vice versa.
Please respond before Tuesday.
Also, who's playing on Tuesday?
Thursday, September 25, 2008
The Hole in the Wall Gang
Garris and Mendez are leading their horses along a narrow path by a stream. They’re still about a day out from Redford when disaster strikes.
A group of hidden bandits, who are waiting in ambush, catch them with crossbow fire. Garris and both horses are killed instantly. Even Mendez is forced to throw himself backwards to avoid being hit and tumbles down the slippery bank.
The six Bandits, on assuming both men dead, rush out of their hiding place. They bundle down the steep grassy slope and whoop with pleasure as they search the dead horse’s saddle bags and discover their amazing haul.
A group of hidden bandits, who are waiting in ambush, catch them with crossbow fire. Garris and both horses are killed instantly. Even Mendez is forced to throw himself backwards to avoid being hit and tumbles down the slippery bank.
The six Bandits, on assuming both men dead, rush out of their hiding place. They bundle down the steep grassy slope and whoop with pleasure as they search the dead horse’s saddle bags and discover their amazing haul.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Getting to Know you
Garris and Mendez have been travelling for a couple of days and thankfully the young Swashbuckler has fully recovered from his hangover.
Garris explains the reason of his trip and his need for a guard: “Thing’s have become far too dangerous in Seawell. It seems like it was just a year ago that Seawell was just a small frontier town. Now it’s become a city, but something evil has grown along with the population. Most people don’t notice these things but I do.”
Mendez has grown to like the eccentric old man. Even his terrible singing. It turns out Garris has no wife or children, in fact no family of any kind. He’s heading to Redford to retire in comfort in a town more to his liking.
It’s still several days away, and realising Garris’ saddle bags are full of gold, Mendez start’s to feel nervous and eyes the bushes lining the dirt path suspiciously.
Garris explains the reason of his trip and his need for a guard: “Thing’s have become far too dangerous in Seawell. It seems like it was just a year ago that Seawell was just a small frontier town. Now it’s become a city, but something evil has grown along with the population. Most people don’t notice these things but I do.”
Mendez has grown to like the eccentric old man. Even his terrible singing. It turns out Garris has no wife or children, in fact no family of any kind. He’s heading to Redford to retire in comfort in a town more to his liking.
It’s still several days away, and realising Garris’ saddle bags are full of gold, Mendez start’s to feel nervous and eyes the bushes lining the dirt path suspiciously.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Eolar Rocks Banner
New Banner to finally exploit Eolar's odd Holy symbol pose and welcome Ned the 'What's-going-on-here?' Druid.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Pleading to Death
Seawell is in a state of chaos after the mysterious disappearance of the Baron.
Several factions are vying for control: The Thieves Guild, the Merchants guild as well as the remains of the current government. The established churches of St Curthbert and Hexor are also trying to restore order as well as carving out more control for themselves.
Far below though, in the lowest level of the city prison, the party face a difficult decision.
The Undead Boscorm; the ex Mayor of Seawell has surprisingly surrendered.
Using the power of St Cuthbert, Eolar has destroyed all of the elite Zombie guards.
The unveiled Chain Devil is still fighting fiercely though. Worryingly, it seems uninjured and unafraid.
Suddenly Boscorm speaks, “You have my ear. Do we have a deal?” His voice is rasping, like sandpaper against rubble. His swollen, purple tongue writhing within his mouth makes everyone feel slightly nauseous.
“Whatever you think, I wasn’t behind this. Why would I want to be like this? This existence is a curse. I feel empty and so very cold. My thoughts are cloudy and all jumbled. All I want is to live again. I will reward you with 25,000gp if you get me resurrected. While still alive, I hid several treasure chests in Seawell. I’ll tell you where one of them is.”
Boscorm licks his paper-thin lips with his fleshy purple tongue.
“I don’t know why have I returned, but my City is in trouble and it needs my leadership.”
At Eolar’s continued silence Boscorm continues to plead.
“ I won’t lie to you. I was an evil man, but I’ve changed. This city needs me. Go to Cabal En of St Cuthbert or Fainer Sou of the Church of Hexor. Either one of them will help you.”
Boscorm’s attention is diverted towards the Devil on the raised platform as it continues to lash out remotely with the chains attached to the four pillars.
“I don’t control the creature. I fear I’m just a devil’s plaything. The Samaritans are still safe. I’ll tell you where they are if you’ll just help me!”
Boscorm's eyes are pleading and despite everything; he appears sincere.
Several factions are vying for control: The Thieves Guild, the Merchants guild as well as the remains of the current government. The established churches of St Curthbert and Hexor are also trying to restore order as well as carving out more control for themselves.
Far below though, in the lowest level of the city prison, the party face a difficult decision.
The Undead Boscorm; the ex Mayor of Seawell has surprisingly surrendered.
Using the power of St Cuthbert, Eolar has destroyed all of the elite Zombie guards.
The unveiled Chain Devil is still fighting fiercely though. Worryingly, it seems uninjured and unafraid.
Suddenly Boscorm speaks, “You have my ear. Do we have a deal?” His voice is rasping, like sandpaper against rubble. His swollen, purple tongue writhing within his mouth makes everyone feel slightly nauseous.
“Whatever you think, I wasn’t behind this. Why would I want to be like this? This existence is a curse. I feel empty and so very cold. My thoughts are cloudy and all jumbled. All I want is to live again. I will reward you with 25,000gp if you get me resurrected. While still alive, I hid several treasure chests in Seawell. I’ll tell you where one of them is.”
Boscorm licks his paper-thin lips with his fleshy purple tongue.
“I don’t know why have I returned, but my City is in trouble and it needs my leadership.”
At Eolar’s continued silence Boscorm continues to plead.
“ I won’t lie to you. I was an evil man, but I’ve changed. This city needs me. Go to Cabal En of St Cuthbert or Fainer Sou of the Church of Hexor. Either one of them will help you.”
Boscorm’s attention is diverted towards the Devil on the raised platform as it continues to lash out remotely with the chains attached to the four pillars.
“I don’t control the creature. I fear I’m just a devil’s plaything. The Samaritans are still safe. I’ll tell you where they are if you’ll just help me!”
Boscorm's eyes are pleading and despite everything; he appears sincere.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Uncertainty
He found Elogyn in one of the small chapels. Since the deception that lead to the rescue of the evil prisoner, she didn't say a single word and Eolar was worried.
She was meditating, so he took the place next to her and joined in. After a few minutes passed in silence, she looked up. "How can you ever be sure what's right and what's wrong? How can you decide if a decision is just or an action is good? I really don't know anymore!"
She looked at Eolar who took some seconds to answer: "The world is complex and it often is not possible to determine what's good and what's evil without having all the facts. You should not try to be the judge yourself! We have laws, rules and traditions to give you guidance and St.Cuthbert, courts and councils to cast judgment onto the ones who break or bend them. Being good or evil is not significant as long as one has a place in the hierarchy and obeys orders and traditions. It is this obedience that keeps society together!"
"But what if these orders tell you to do evil? Even St.Cuthbert taught us that evil has to be fought because it erodes society and generally leads to chaotic behaviour! I read the scripture over and over again, and I think evil has to be destroyed in order to enable a stable society! And I helped evil and fought good people!!"
"We were deceived and acted on good faith. I know this is no excuse and I'm as guilty as you are. Even more as I'm your mentor! I dared to challenge a decision of a legitimate ruler and St.Cuthbert taught me a lesson. A lawful family has been destroyed through our action and this will torture my mind till the end of my days"
"I should have killed him as soon as we've found out and turned myself in. This would have been honourable and the tragedy would have been averted! It was a test and I failed!"
"You didn't know all the facts at the time to pass judgment! For all that you knew he had been jailed unjustly!"
"I KNEW he was evil!! That was enough! I won't fail again!"
They were sitting there for a while in silence. "I apologise for my disrespect! I should not question you!" Eolar looked at her and a tortured smile scurried over his face. "Sometimes you should as the last days have shown. But don't let your heart blind you! And don't make it a habit!" With these words he left her alone. She stared at the face of the patron statue in front of her. After a while she got up and went to the room of paladins, Ozul had guided her to. She was looking at the paintings and the oath, waiting for something to happen. She realised that she came to this room in the hope Ozul would be here to tell her what to do. But he didn't have to. She knew it all along.
She was meditating, so he took the place next to her and joined in. After a few minutes passed in silence, she looked up. "How can you ever be sure what's right and what's wrong? How can you decide if a decision is just or an action is good? I really don't know anymore!"
She looked at Eolar who took some seconds to answer: "The world is complex and it often is not possible to determine what's good and what's evil without having all the facts. You should not try to be the judge yourself! We have laws, rules and traditions to give you guidance and St.Cuthbert, courts and councils to cast judgment onto the ones who break or bend them. Being good or evil is not significant as long as one has a place in the hierarchy and obeys orders and traditions. It is this obedience that keeps society together!"
"But what if these orders tell you to do evil? Even St.Cuthbert taught us that evil has to be fought because it erodes society and generally leads to chaotic behaviour! I read the scripture over and over again, and I think evil has to be destroyed in order to enable a stable society! And I helped evil and fought good people!!"
"We were deceived and acted on good faith. I know this is no excuse and I'm as guilty as you are. Even more as I'm your mentor! I dared to challenge a decision of a legitimate ruler and St.Cuthbert taught me a lesson. A lawful family has been destroyed through our action and this will torture my mind till the end of my days"
"I should have killed him as soon as we've found out and turned myself in. This would have been honourable and the tragedy would have been averted! It was a test and I failed!"
"You didn't know all the facts at the time to pass judgment! For all that you knew he had been jailed unjustly!"
"I KNEW he was evil!! That was enough! I won't fail again!"
They were sitting there for a while in silence. "I apologise for my disrespect! I should not question you!" Eolar looked at her and a tortured smile scurried over his face. "Sometimes you should as the last days have shown. But don't let your heart blind you! And don't make it a habit!" With these words he left her alone. She stared at the face of the patron statue in front of her. After a while she got up and went to the room of paladins, Ozul had guided her to. She was looking at the paintings and the oath, waiting for something to happen. She realised that she came to this room in the hope Ozul would be here to tell her what to do. But he didn't have to. She knew it all along.
An Honest Days Work
Slouched and desolate, Mendez orders another brandy. As normal when having a crisis of confidence, he seeks the fastest avenue of escape. His inebriation though will only last so long.
“Excuse me son, but you look a little down on your luck.”
Mendez looks blearily around.
“I’m looking for someone who’s good in a scrap. I’m guessing by the look of you that you can wield that little sword of yours?”
The small, portly man beside him is greying and well past his prime, but has an honest face.
Perhaps this is the way forward? Honest work for an honest wage.
The older man introduces himself as ‘Garris’ and explains to Mendez that he needs someone to guard him and his ‘package’ on a journey to a town along the coast called ‘Redford’.
“I’ll pay you a gold piece a day and you can work for me as long as we both get along.”
Wiping his chin, Mendez agrees and shakes the little man’s hand.
“Excuse me son, but you look a little down on your luck.”
Mendez looks blearily around.
“I’m looking for someone who’s good in a scrap. I’m guessing by the look of you that you can wield that little sword of yours?”
The small, portly man beside him is greying and well past his prime, but has an honest face.
Perhaps this is the way forward? Honest work for an honest wage.
The older man introduces himself as ‘Garris’ and explains to Mendez that he needs someone to guard him and his ‘package’ on a journey to a town along the coast called ‘Redford’.
“I’ll pay you a gold piece a day and you can work for me as long as we both get along.”
Wiping his chin, Mendez agrees and shakes the little man’s hand.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Waiting for Kruddo
There's slow, but this is ridiculous.
Even Moritz has given me his character sheet!
(Or his interpretation of one.)
Even Moritz has given me his character sheet!
(Or his interpretation of one.)
All’s not Well in Seawell
The Adventurers mill around Seawell with mixed feeling concerning recent events.
Rather than setting the world to right, they seem to be the cause of as much evil as good.
The news has just reached town of the death of the Duke of a nearby territory and his entire family. No one seems to know the exact cause, but the adventurers have a sinking feeling of responsibility.
Add this to the fiasco with the Baron of Seawell itself and the whole region has become politically unsound.
The unpopular Baron was driven out or killed by unknown assailants. His Daughter and heir has also disappeared.
Normally this would be a minor problem, except for the recent execution of the last Mayor and the suspicious, some would say ‘rigged’, election of the current one; Mayor Parsons.
Some people are saying that the secretive ‘Thieves guild’ has gained control of the town and are running it to their own ends.
Also, both the major churches in Seawell have been actively seeking greater power and authority. The Church of St Cuthbert and the Church of Hextor. Ironically, this has led to the further breakdown of order.
Looting continues throughout the town and the city guard are stretched dangerously thin.
Also see: http://dungeontales.blogspot.com/2008/07/res-election.html
Rather than setting the world to right, they seem to be the cause of as much evil as good.
The news has just reached town of the death of the Duke of a nearby territory and his entire family. No one seems to know the exact cause, but the adventurers have a sinking feeling of responsibility.
Add this to the fiasco with the Baron of Seawell itself and the whole region has become politically unsound.
The unpopular Baron was driven out or killed by unknown assailants. His Daughter and heir has also disappeared.
Normally this would be a minor problem, except for the recent execution of the last Mayor and the suspicious, some would say ‘rigged’, election of the current one; Mayor Parsons.
Some people are saying that the secretive ‘Thieves guild’ has gained control of the town and are running it to their own ends.
Also, both the major churches in Seawell have been actively seeking greater power and authority. The Church of St Cuthbert and the Church of Hextor. Ironically, this has led to the further breakdown of order.
Looting continues throughout the town and the city guard are stretched dangerously thin.
Also see: http://dungeontales.blogspot.com/2008/07/res-election.html
A History of the Forbidden Lands
There is a great deal of uncertainty regarding the fall of the first empire of the furnace coast. The few reliable written sources all date from at least half a millenia past its fall, and most histories rely on orally transmitted myths and legends as well as two notable folk songs, The Lay of the King's Curse and The Fall of Theynar.
Most historians agree that Theynar, the capital city of the first empire, was situated somewhere on the border of the region known now as the forbidden lands. Its early history was stept in blood and warfare as it fought a continuous war, first to absorb the neighbouring city-states of the Inland Sea (also known as Lenthan Lake) followed by a swift campaign against the budding cities of the Furnace Coast. It was also plagued by several invasions orcish and goblinoid tribes from the west, stories of which have survived into modern times. While the complete sequence of events is lost to antiquity, most sources do hint at the ruling line of Theynar turning to the magical arts to stave off the serious problems facing the empire. By drawing upon sorcerous means, they were able to keep the whole region of Lenthan Lake, as well as the furnace coast under their rule. Still, even with this power at their disposal, their resources were spread thin, and at some point the Kings of Theynar turned to fiends and demons for aid. It would seem to be this fiendish connection which finally led to the destruction of the empire. The exact circumstances of this destructions are not known. The two songs mentioned earlier both consider this event to be caused by a spell cast by its ruler. The Lay of the King's Curse describes it like this:
Fair Leana, falling swiftly
River steals away her ruin
Sorrow robs the Sorcerer's senses
Nerull's song he will sing next
Fell words flowing from the wizard
Land itself reveals its loss
Carrion once, now creatures rising
Death brings living to their doom.
Fertile lands, now fields of ashes
Life in Theynar forever lost
Laughing now, the Lord of ruin
Casts his final spell, a curse
Time is shattered, torn is fate
loom weaves final weak lament
Shadows creeping, stretching tendrils
Drives the fleeing throng past death
The song describes the casting of the spell as a precursor for cataclysm, the final act of the king of Theynar, driven mad by jealousy and grief. The King's Curse, suggests that his young queen, Leana, fell in love with a prince of the furnace coast, and threw herself from her tower as her infidelity was discovered. The King's Curse seems to favour the queen and her lover, casting the king as a villain driving his wife to suicide and destroying his realm out of spite. This view is not echoed in the Fall of Theynar, which seems to suggest that the young prince was in the process of assaulting the city in order to steal Queen Leana away from her husband by force, as the following stanzas suggest:
Watchful City! Wake to Carnage!
Landlocked Master of Lenthan Lake.
Winding Streets! Wake to Slaughter!
Steelshod foes move silent and still.
Saintly Leana! Stir and Listen!
Courting Prince creeps in your chamber.
Sleeping Consort! Sorcerous King!
Still the casting of savage spells.
Noble Princess! Know the Price!
Handsome face hides haughty horror!
Usurping Villain! Youthful Folly!
Lascivious gaze turns love to loss.
While tragic stories of starcrossed lovers seem to capture the attentions of wandering bards everywhere, it is more likely that the cause of the unnamed prince' assault on Theynar was a battle for control over the resources commanded by the first empire. What does seem probable, is that the current state of the forbidden lands is due to a magical cataclysmic event, likely of an infernal or abyssal nature. The horrors that were unleashed, were so immense and profound that even to this day, few dare enter the forbidden lands.
Those few who return, tell strange stories of horrible creatures, a strange landscape and a treacherous land where time and space itself is twisted and corrupted. Even the humanoid tribes do not venture far into the wastes. There have been stories of isolated communities eking out an existence within this region, and some sages have speculated that the King's curse may not have reached the entirety of the area, but others scoff at these tales dismissing them as mere delusions.
Most historians agree that Theynar, the capital city of the first empire, was situated somewhere on the border of the region known now as the forbidden lands. Its early history was stept in blood and warfare as it fought a continuous war, first to absorb the neighbouring city-states of the Inland Sea (also known as Lenthan Lake) followed by a swift campaign against the budding cities of the Furnace Coast. It was also plagued by several invasions orcish and goblinoid tribes from the west, stories of which have survived into modern times. While the complete sequence of events is lost to antiquity, most sources do hint at the ruling line of Theynar turning to the magical arts to stave off the serious problems facing the empire. By drawing upon sorcerous means, they were able to keep the whole region of Lenthan Lake, as well as the furnace coast under their rule. Still, even with this power at their disposal, their resources were spread thin, and at some point the Kings of Theynar turned to fiends and demons for aid. It would seem to be this fiendish connection which finally led to the destruction of the empire. The exact circumstances of this destructions are not known. The two songs mentioned earlier both consider this event to be caused by a spell cast by its ruler. The Lay of the King's Curse describes it like this:
Fair Leana, falling swiftly
River steals away her ruin
Sorrow robs the Sorcerer's senses
Nerull's song he will sing next
Fell words flowing from the wizard
Land itself reveals its loss
Carrion once, now creatures rising
Death brings living to their doom.
Fertile lands, now fields of ashes
Life in Theynar forever lost
Laughing now, the Lord of ruin
Casts his final spell, a curse
Time is shattered, torn is fate
loom weaves final weak lament
Shadows creeping, stretching tendrils
Drives the fleeing throng past death
The song describes the casting of the spell as a precursor for cataclysm, the final act of the king of Theynar, driven mad by jealousy and grief. The King's Curse, suggests that his young queen, Leana, fell in love with a prince of the furnace coast, and threw herself from her tower as her infidelity was discovered. The King's Curse seems to favour the queen and her lover, casting the king as a villain driving his wife to suicide and destroying his realm out of spite. This view is not echoed in the Fall of Theynar, which seems to suggest that the young prince was in the process of assaulting the city in order to steal Queen Leana away from her husband by force, as the following stanzas suggest:
Watchful City! Wake to Carnage!
Landlocked Master of Lenthan Lake.
Winding Streets! Wake to Slaughter!
Steelshod foes move silent and still.
Saintly Leana! Stir and Listen!
Courting Prince creeps in your chamber.
Sleeping Consort! Sorcerous King!
Still the casting of savage spells.
Noble Princess! Know the Price!
Handsome face hides haughty horror!
Usurping Villain! Youthful Folly!
Lascivious gaze turns love to loss.
While tragic stories of starcrossed lovers seem to capture the attentions of wandering bards everywhere, it is more likely that the cause of the unnamed prince' assault on Theynar was a battle for control over the resources commanded by the first empire. What does seem probable, is that the current state of the forbidden lands is due to a magical cataclysmic event, likely of an infernal or abyssal nature. The horrors that were unleashed, were so immense and profound that even to this day, few dare enter the forbidden lands.
Those few who return, tell strange stories of horrible creatures, a strange landscape and a treacherous land where time and space itself is twisted and corrupted. Even the humanoid tribes do not venture far into the wastes. There have been stories of isolated communities eking out an existence within this region, and some sages have speculated that the King's curse may not have reached the entirety of the area, but others scoff at these tales dismissing them as mere delusions.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Repercussions: The Butterfly Effect
Chapter 1: Eothan
Eothan sat in the ducal loge, his heart pounding with youthful excitement as he watched the warm-up matches of the morning. It was only the second time he would represent his House in the Equal Ground's Challenge. The tournament was as old as anybody could remember. Whenever the ruling family had a male heir over sixteen he would represent the family in the tournament. The rules were simple; anybody, regardless of birth and rank could challenge the duke's son in a sportive fist fighting competition. Nobody knew exactly where the tradition came from but the people liked it and usually the duke liked it too. The respective heirs had to either train hard to become competent fighters or they would get free lessons in humility, both commendable qualities in a young noble. Nowadays those challenges were usually quite good natured and serious injury was rare.
Eothan looked over to his father who sat a bit further down the loge. His heart sank momentarily as he saw the ashen colour on his face. In recent years his father who used to be a bear of a man had looked more and more frail. But then the duke turned to him and smiled. It was a fond, honest and deeply confident smile. Yet Eothan's heart nearly broke at seeing the ever darker curtain of pain through which he knew his father looked out at the world. He fought down the feeling. This was not the day for brooding. He nodded to his father to signal that he was ready. The duke nodded back and then grinned impishly at his son. Eothan knew that his father had no doubt in his mind that Eothan would remain victorious throughout the afternoon. He was not quite so sure himself, but he was looking forward to finding out.
As Eothan left to make his way down to the changing rooms he was nearly run over by two excited men. One of them was Tarek, a young guard he barely knew and the other one was Bran the swordsmaster of the castle and Eothan's mentor and teacher.
"There has been a raid at the customs house, we have injured men. You better come with us, Sire.", Bran said with uncharacteristic agitation. "At the customs house? What's there to raid?", asked Eothan puzzled, already accelerating in the direction of the castle gate. "I have no idea, he was there..." said Bran indicating the young guard who was already falling behind the two men.
Ten minutes later the three men were standing in the stirrups of their horses watching the chaotic horde of raiders running like the devil. The scene at the customs house had been horrifying. They had been greeted by the dead body of one man and the dying figure of one of Eothan's other teachers; Alun, the former sowrdsmaster and one of Eothan's father's closest confidants was lying in a pool of blood. He was also the reason they were not charging the strangers. "Don't follow them, go straight to your father and tell him what happened. Go! Now!", he had insisted with as much strength as he had left.
Eothan wanted to hunt down that scum. He was shocked and confused. He couldn't make sense of any of this. Why would someone do such a thing? One of the strangers was carrying something which looked like another person, Eothan noticed as he had started to pursue them again. Then a dwarfish looking man dropped the body. Eothan rode towards it. It was a gaunt, unappealing man. Bran was shouting at him all this time. Alun had insisted they go back.
Chapter 2: Lady Mari
Mari was unusually tense. She sat in her private bedroom which was the most ostentatious sign of the state of her marriage. The pieces were finally set into motion, all she could do now was sit back and let events unfold. She didn't like it when she wasn't in control. Maybe that was why she was so tense, now that all she worked for for so long was finally falling into place. Maybe, however, it was also a tiny pang of guilt, or even regret. Be as it may, it was too late for such uncertainty now. Mari distractedly combed her long hair as she mused how things came to be the way they were.
She had been very young when her parents arranged for her to marry Arwen, the young duke-to-be. Politically they were a perfect match. Her family was minor nobility but wealthy, he was the heir of one of the most powerful duchies but his family was never very good at raising money. The political strength of this combination turned out to be its personal downfall. She enjoyed and expected the lavish lifestyle she had grown up with. The young duke on the other hand was at times hard to distinguish from his most humble subjects, with his constantly unkempt hair and dirty hunting clothes. It was disgraceful that she should marry such a brute who mixed with lowly servants. And even worse, once they had been married he loved her with a fierce devotion that first baffled and then annoyed her. He loved her with the same unselfconscious, single minded intensity he had in everything he did.
And then she had met Meldron. He was the complete opposite of Arwen. He was a true noble, a gentleman, and he knew how to treat a Lady. He had originally only come for the funeral of a distant uncle of hers, but because the winter had been severe, he had to stay. They had fallen in love quickly and passionately and at first she had worried about nothing. It was unseemly but not unheard of for a noblewoman to have a lover. It was only later that Meldron started to make certain suggestions. About how his love was so true and eternal that he could not bear the thought of leaving her, that they were meant for each other. Bit by bit he convinced her that Arwen was the only obstacle to a golden future. That together, they could have it all, the Duchy, the lifestyle and happiness.
Meldron found reasons to come every winter and after she had born her first son, he became more and more insistent. The plan was simple. They would poison Arwen in a way that would make it look like an unknown illness and after an appropriate time had passed she would remarry.
The problem was that Alun the old swordsmaster caught them and exposed their crime to Arwen. Arwen was furious and would have probably killed Meldron there and then. With great effort she could convince her husband that she would tell the world that Eothan was Meldron's son should he kill him. They both knew it was very unlikely but the stain of such an accusation would not only ruin the honour of his house, but very likely the life of his son. So Arwen decided to lock Meldron away and Alun was oath-bound to keep the secret between those four. The years after that had been difficult. Her relationship with Arwen was poisoned and while he was polite to her it still pained her that he was entirely cold to her. He made it clear that she could remain his wife on paper but that he would cast her out on the first sign of betrayal. For a few years she was desperate. She did not know what to do. But then she started to build contacts. She began to recruit ruthless men that would help her without asking questions. This was still too dangerous though. If someone could trace them back to her all would be lost. This was when she had the idea to trick unsuspecting adventurers into her scheme. She had tried many but they all failed in the first test to rescue her. She couldn't work too quickly otherwise a band of robbers would cause rumors. She had been careful and patient and now she was closer than ever.
She just hoped that Arwen would drink his wine today. And that Eothan would believe her.
Chapter 3: Meldron
When Meldron regained consciousness he was being dragged into a small room by what must have been young Eothan and a guard. The boy had knocked him senseless after his useless 'saviours' had left him behind to save their own cowardly skins. He slightly turned his head and looked at the young man. This confirmed what he had suspected even in their short encounter on the field. Eothan was clearly not his own son as Mari had led him to believe, or wanted to believe herself. One look at the boy was enough to know that he was the duke's son through and through. This was a problem.
Meldron felt lightheaded and weak but he was not prepared to lose the initiative in what was his first chance to freedom in fifteen years, and very likely his last. He found it hard to think coherently.
A short time later he was alone with the boy who had sent the old man and the other guard away to get the duke. Time was running out. This was all not going well. Eothan was shaking him and asking him questions he could not quite understand. But the boy clearly had no idea who he was. He didn't even seem to know whether he was an innocent bystander or part of the attackers. Meldron carefully shifted his weight in Eothan's grip. He looked around for anything that could help him. One step at a time.
Then his eyes focused on Eothans belt.
Chapter 4: Lord Arwen
Arwen was still waiting in the loge for his son to come out and enter the tournament when Bran, his swordsmaster, stormed in breathlessly: "My Lord, there has been an attack. At least four men are down, including Alun.". "What are you talking about?", asked the Duke bemazed. "An attack, Sire, on the customs house. We have a prisoner. Alun commanded us not to pursue but come directly to you, Sire."
The mention of Alun and the customs house made the Duke snap to attention. "Where is the prisoner? Take me to him at once!", boomed the Duke. Bran led him down the corridors and pointed to the room where they had left Eothan and the prisoner.
The duke rushed ahead and pushed open the door. And then, he froze mid-stride, so that Bran and the guard collided into his back. The duke stood stock-still and then, after a long moment he let out and roar of pure animal pain and rage that the walls seemed to tremble.
After that, everything happened very fast. The guards still could not see what had happened when the old Duke charged into the room roaring like god's own angel of vengeance. Just before he hit his target, Bran caught a glimpse of the prisoner;
He was standing over the bleeding body of Eothan, holding a silver dagger.
When the duke reached the prisoner the impact didn't even slow him down. He carried the prisoner for another ten feet; He didn't feel the sharp pain in his stomach and he didn't hear the muted crack as Meldron's spine broke. The raging duke was smashing the tattered body into a nearby column and only after it was completely red with blood did the duke toss away the body. It fell to the floor like a broken doll.
When the duke turned around, eyes bloodshot and breathing heavily, the guards were still standing in the door.
"LEAVE!", bellowed the duke, "LEAVE US NOW!". Both men knew better than to argue with the duke.
The duke knelt down and mechanically picked up the limp body of his only son. His eyes clouded as sanity quickly bled out of him with every tear he wept. The old duke stumbled to the door, out into an empty corridor. He turned three times before he reached his destination.
Mari looked up at the sudden intrusion. Speechless she watched her husband lay the body of her son on her bed. Arwen closed the boy's eyes and turned towards her. Mari looked at her husband but there was nothing to recognize; His eyes were the eyes of a dead man. The man she knew had been burned away in the dark fire of grief and pain. He stared at her but his eyes did not see her, nor did his mind register the look on her face. Regret.
The duke took a stumbling step towards her and only now did he seem to realize that a silver dagger was sticking out of his tunic just below his ribcage. Bewildered he pulled it out. His body tensed one last time before he collapsed forward.
Epilogue
After long moments of silence from the duchess' bedroom, Bran nervously knocks on the door. There is no reply. After a few more tries he tentatively opens the door. Inside, the young Sire lies dead on a bloody bed. The duke kneels before his duchess in an awkward embrace. There is no movement. The whole family he has sworn to protect lies slaughtered. Bran gently pulls a silver dagger out of Lady Mari's breast. He recognizes the weapon. It was a gift from father to son, a talisman in battle.
On the silver blade, in ornate letters it reads:
Thus that which is the most awful of evils, death, is nothing to us, since when we exist there is no death, and when there is death we do not exist.
Eothan sat in the ducal loge, his heart pounding with youthful excitement as he watched the warm-up matches of the morning. It was only the second time he would represent his House in the Equal Ground's Challenge. The tournament was as old as anybody could remember. Whenever the ruling family had a male heir over sixteen he would represent the family in the tournament. The rules were simple; anybody, regardless of birth and rank could challenge the duke's son in a sportive fist fighting competition. Nobody knew exactly where the tradition came from but the people liked it and usually the duke liked it too. The respective heirs had to either train hard to become competent fighters or they would get free lessons in humility, both commendable qualities in a young noble. Nowadays those challenges were usually quite good natured and serious injury was rare.
Eothan looked over to his father who sat a bit further down the loge. His heart sank momentarily as he saw the ashen colour on his face. In recent years his father who used to be a bear of a man had looked more and more frail. But then the duke turned to him and smiled. It was a fond, honest and deeply confident smile. Yet Eothan's heart nearly broke at seeing the ever darker curtain of pain through which he knew his father looked out at the world. He fought down the feeling. This was not the day for brooding. He nodded to his father to signal that he was ready. The duke nodded back and then grinned impishly at his son. Eothan knew that his father had no doubt in his mind that Eothan would remain victorious throughout the afternoon. He was not quite so sure himself, but he was looking forward to finding out.
As Eothan left to make his way down to the changing rooms he was nearly run over by two excited men. One of them was Tarek, a young guard he barely knew and the other one was Bran the swordsmaster of the castle and Eothan's mentor and teacher.
"There has been a raid at the customs house, we have injured men. You better come with us, Sire.", Bran said with uncharacteristic agitation. "At the customs house? What's there to raid?", asked Eothan puzzled, already accelerating in the direction of the castle gate. "I have no idea, he was there..." said Bran indicating the young guard who was already falling behind the two men.
Ten minutes later the three men were standing in the stirrups of their horses watching the chaotic horde of raiders running like the devil. The scene at the customs house had been horrifying. They had been greeted by the dead body of one man and the dying figure of one of Eothan's other teachers; Alun, the former sowrdsmaster and one of Eothan's father's closest confidants was lying in a pool of blood. He was also the reason they were not charging the strangers. "Don't follow them, go straight to your father and tell him what happened. Go! Now!", he had insisted with as much strength as he had left.
Eothan wanted to hunt down that scum. He was shocked and confused. He couldn't make sense of any of this. Why would someone do such a thing? One of the strangers was carrying something which looked like another person, Eothan noticed as he had started to pursue them again. Then a dwarfish looking man dropped the body. Eothan rode towards it. It was a gaunt, unappealing man. Bran was shouting at him all this time. Alun had insisted they go back.
Chapter 2: Lady Mari
Mari was unusually tense. She sat in her private bedroom which was the most ostentatious sign of the state of her marriage. The pieces were finally set into motion, all she could do now was sit back and let events unfold. She didn't like it when she wasn't in control. Maybe that was why she was so tense, now that all she worked for for so long was finally falling into place. Maybe, however, it was also a tiny pang of guilt, or even regret. Be as it may, it was too late for such uncertainty now. Mari distractedly combed her long hair as she mused how things came to be the way they were.
She had been very young when her parents arranged for her to marry Arwen, the young duke-to-be. Politically they were a perfect match. Her family was minor nobility but wealthy, he was the heir of one of the most powerful duchies but his family was never very good at raising money. The political strength of this combination turned out to be its personal downfall. She enjoyed and expected the lavish lifestyle she had grown up with. The young duke on the other hand was at times hard to distinguish from his most humble subjects, with his constantly unkempt hair and dirty hunting clothes. It was disgraceful that she should marry such a brute who mixed with lowly servants. And even worse, once they had been married he loved her with a fierce devotion that first baffled and then annoyed her. He loved her with the same unselfconscious, single minded intensity he had in everything he did.
And then she had met Meldron. He was the complete opposite of Arwen. He was a true noble, a gentleman, and he knew how to treat a Lady. He had originally only come for the funeral of a distant uncle of hers, but because the winter had been severe, he had to stay. They had fallen in love quickly and passionately and at first she had worried about nothing. It was unseemly but not unheard of for a noblewoman to have a lover. It was only later that Meldron started to make certain suggestions. About how his love was so true and eternal that he could not bear the thought of leaving her, that they were meant for each other. Bit by bit he convinced her that Arwen was the only obstacle to a golden future. That together, they could have it all, the Duchy, the lifestyle and happiness.
Meldron found reasons to come every winter and after she had born her first son, he became more and more insistent. The plan was simple. They would poison Arwen in a way that would make it look like an unknown illness and after an appropriate time had passed she would remarry.
The problem was that Alun the old swordsmaster caught them and exposed their crime to Arwen. Arwen was furious and would have probably killed Meldron there and then. With great effort she could convince her husband that she would tell the world that Eothan was Meldron's son should he kill him. They both knew it was very unlikely but the stain of such an accusation would not only ruin the honour of his house, but very likely the life of his son. So Arwen decided to lock Meldron away and Alun was oath-bound to keep the secret between those four. The years after that had been difficult. Her relationship with Arwen was poisoned and while he was polite to her it still pained her that he was entirely cold to her. He made it clear that she could remain his wife on paper but that he would cast her out on the first sign of betrayal. For a few years she was desperate. She did not know what to do. But then she started to build contacts. She began to recruit ruthless men that would help her without asking questions. This was still too dangerous though. If someone could trace them back to her all would be lost. This was when she had the idea to trick unsuspecting adventurers into her scheme. She had tried many but they all failed in the first test to rescue her. She couldn't work too quickly otherwise a band of robbers would cause rumors. She had been careful and patient and now she was closer than ever.
She just hoped that Arwen would drink his wine today. And that Eothan would believe her.
Chapter 3: Meldron
When Meldron regained consciousness he was being dragged into a small room by what must have been young Eothan and a guard. The boy had knocked him senseless after his useless 'saviours' had left him behind to save their own cowardly skins. He slightly turned his head and looked at the young man. This confirmed what he had suspected even in their short encounter on the field. Eothan was clearly not his own son as Mari had led him to believe, or wanted to believe herself. One look at the boy was enough to know that he was the duke's son through and through. This was a problem.
Meldron felt lightheaded and weak but he was not prepared to lose the initiative in what was his first chance to freedom in fifteen years, and very likely his last. He found it hard to think coherently.
A short time later he was alone with the boy who had sent the old man and the other guard away to get the duke. Time was running out. This was all not going well. Eothan was shaking him and asking him questions he could not quite understand. But the boy clearly had no idea who he was. He didn't even seem to know whether he was an innocent bystander or part of the attackers. Meldron carefully shifted his weight in Eothan's grip. He looked around for anything that could help him. One step at a time.
Then his eyes focused on Eothans belt.
Chapter 4: Lord Arwen
Arwen was still waiting in the loge for his son to come out and enter the tournament when Bran, his swordsmaster, stormed in breathlessly: "My Lord, there has been an attack. At least four men are down, including Alun.". "What are you talking about?", asked the Duke bemazed. "An attack, Sire, on the customs house. We have a prisoner. Alun commanded us not to pursue but come directly to you, Sire."
The mention of Alun and the customs house made the Duke snap to attention. "Where is the prisoner? Take me to him at once!", boomed the Duke. Bran led him down the corridors and pointed to the room where they had left Eothan and the prisoner.
The duke rushed ahead and pushed open the door. And then, he froze mid-stride, so that Bran and the guard collided into his back. The duke stood stock-still and then, after a long moment he let out and roar of pure animal pain and rage that the walls seemed to tremble.
After that, everything happened very fast. The guards still could not see what had happened when the old Duke charged into the room roaring like god's own angel of vengeance. Just before he hit his target, Bran caught a glimpse of the prisoner;
He was standing over the bleeding body of Eothan, holding a silver dagger.
When the duke reached the prisoner the impact didn't even slow him down. He carried the prisoner for another ten feet; He didn't feel the sharp pain in his stomach and he didn't hear the muted crack as Meldron's spine broke. The raging duke was smashing the tattered body into a nearby column and only after it was completely red with blood did the duke toss away the body. It fell to the floor like a broken doll.
When the duke turned around, eyes bloodshot and breathing heavily, the guards were still standing in the door.
"LEAVE!", bellowed the duke, "LEAVE US NOW!". Both men knew better than to argue with the duke.
The duke knelt down and mechanically picked up the limp body of his only son. His eyes clouded as sanity quickly bled out of him with every tear he wept. The old duke stumbled to the door, out into an empty corridor. He turned three times before he reached his destination.
Mari looked up at the sudden intrusion. Speechless she watched her husband lay the body of her son on her bed. Arwen closed the boy's eyes and turned towards her. Mari looked at her husband but there was nothing to recognize; His eyes were the eyes of a dead man. The man she knew had been burned away in the dark fire of grief and pain. He stared at her but his eyes did not see her, nor did his mind register the look on her face. Regret.
The duke took a stumbling step towards her and only now did he seem to realize that a silver dagger was sticking out of his tunic just below his ribcage. Bewildered he pulled it out. His body tensed one last time before he collapsed forward.
Epilogue
After long moments of silence from the duchess' bedroom, Bran nervously knocks on the door. There is no reply. After a few more tries he tentatively opens the door. Inside, the young Sire lies dead on a bloody bed. The duke kneels before his duchess in an awkward embrace. There is no movement. The whole family he has sworn to protect lies slaughtered. Bran gently pulls a silver dagger out of Lady Mari's breast. He recognizes the weapon. It was a gift from father to son, a talisman in battle.
On the silver blade, in ornate letters it reads:
Thus that which is the most awful of evils, death, is nothing to us, since when we exist there is no death, and when there is death we do not exist.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
New banner and character sheets
I’ve doodled up a new banner, which Assif will hopefully post up soon.
Also I need the character sheets for Eolar, Elogyn, Kruddo, Telfis and of course Wer.
Also I need the character sheets for Eolar, Elogyn, Kruddo, Telfis and of course Wer.
Friday, September 5, 2008
The Great Duke and Moll Experience Swindle
This is where we all are:
Chen Yong: 16,236 xp (Goes up to 6th Level!)
Bodush: 37,576 xp (Goes up to 9th Level!)
Durin: 31,495 xp (Goes up to 8th Level!)
Wer: 35,250xp (Stays at 8th Level... Just)
Eolar: 41,855 xp (Stays at 9th Level)
Elogyn: 18,486 xp (Stays at 6th Level)
Mendez: 43,599 xp (Stays at 9th Level)
Kruddo: 17,668 xp (Stays at 6th Level)
Thesis: 30,593 xp (Stays at 8th Level)
Telfis: 40,260xp (Goes up to 9th Level!)
(Telfis also gets: 6,925gp)
Chen Yong: 16,236 xp (Goes up to 6th Level!)
Bodush: 37,576 xp (Goes up to 9th Level!)
Durin: 31,495 xp (Goes up to 8th Level!)
Wer: 35,250xp (Stays at 8th Level... Just)
Eolar: 41,855 xp (Stays at 9th Level)
Elogyn: 18,486 xp (Stays at 6th Level)
Mendez: 43,599 xp (Stays at 9th Level)
Kruddo: 17,668 xp (Stays at 6th Level)
Thesis: 30,593 xp (Stays at 8th Level)
Telfis: 40,260xp (Goes up to 9th Level!)
(Telfis also gets: 6,925gp)
Treasure
Wood Bandits:
- Larissa's payment: 7 moss opals (green), 906gp each
- 4 Bastard swords
- 4 Chainmal shirts
- 4 Repeating Crossbows (Heavy)
- 4 Sudded Leather
Guards
- 1 Bastard sword
- 1 Repeating crossbow
- 1 Bag of Tricks (Gray)
- Incriminating key ring
Vengeance Squad
- 2 Bastard swords
- 2 Chainmail
- 2 Repeating crossbows
- 2 Studded Leather
- 1 Short sword
- 1 short sword + 2
- Larissa's payment: 5 yellow spinel (846.4 gp each)
- Larissa's payment: 7 moss opals (green), 906gp each
- 4 Bastard swords
- 4 Chainmal shirts
- 4 Repeating Crossbows (Heavy)
- 4 Sudded Leather
Guards
- 1 Bastard sword
- 1 Repeating crossbow
- 1 Bag of Tricks (Gray)
- Incriminating key ring
Vengeance Squad
- 2 Bastard swords
- 2 Chainmail
- 2 Repeating crossbows
- 2 Studded Leather
- 1 Short sword
- 1 short sword + 2
- Larissa's payment: 5 yellow spinel (846.4 gp each)
Experience!
I am not sure how we want to do this. I know we have the rule of thumb that we want to level once per adventure (and certainly Telfis is all for that). However, with the official calculator, even applied very generously, this is what you get:
| Character | Wood Bandits | Guards | Vengeance Squad | Dungeoning Skillz | Total |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Mendez | 2250 | 810 | 1440 | 500 | 5000 |
| Eolar | 2250 | 810 | 1440 | 500 | 5000 |
| Wer | 2800 | 0 | 0 | 250 | 3050 |
| Bodush | 2800 | 0 | 0 | 250 | 3050 |
| Durin | 0 | 1260 | 2880 | 250 | 4390 |
| Chen | 0 | 1800 | 3300 | 250 | 5350 |
Fool me Twice
Once safely back at Seawell, the group part company. Mendez though is wracked with guilt.
After a day or so, he makes his way through the turmoil of the city to the, still immaculate, temple of St Cuthbert.
“May I please visit with Elolar and Elogyn?”
He is taken through the silent halls full of acolytes studying the ancient scriptures until he finds himself at the spartan rooms of his friends.
“I’ve come to beg for your forgiveness.”
Knelling, Mendez bows his head. “Twice now I’ve been tricked into foolish rescues and twice you have helped me in my folly. I know that my friendship has cost you and I am truly sorry.”
The normally dashing Mendez looks honestly penitent.
“If there is anything I can do …”
On noting Eolar and Elogyn’s continued silence, Mendez leaves the chamber.
“I really am truly sorry.”
After a day or so, he makes his way through the turmoil of the city to the, still immaculate, temple of St Cuthbert.
“May I please visit with Elolar and Elogyn?”
He is taken through the silent halls full of acolytes studying the ancient scriptures until he finds himself at the spartan rooms of his friends.
“I’ve come to beg for your forgiveness.”
Knelling, Mendez bows his head. “Twice now I’ve been tricked into foolish rescues and twice you have helped me in my folly. I know that my friendship has cost you and I am truly sorry.”
The normally dashing Mendez looks honestly penitent.
“If there is anything I can do …”
On noting Eolar and Elogyn’s continued silence, Mendez leaves the chamber.
“I really am truly sorry.”
Dreams of Rain and Gold
Thesis curses under his breath once more. It is too damned hot to even sleep here.
When he finally does go off, his dreams are filled with orcs and goblins, their rusted armour mixing with the mud as they lay dead - cut to pieces with axe and sword. The rain lashes and bites into his wounds but it all seems worth it when they find yet more shiny jewels and coins of gold and silver.
He wakes up suddenly and realises he must journey back. It will take him some months, but his decision is made. Maybe he can even find some of his old traveling companions - if they haven't been killed or become too rich to bother adventuring anymore. What would really annoy him though is the thought that they may come across a hoard of magical items and be showing them off when he returned with his couple of crappy potions.
hope you all had fun last night and managed to buy loads of cool magic items you will want to give Thesis when you see him next ;-D
When he finally does go off, his dreams are filled with orcs and goblins, their rusted armour mixing with the mud as they lay dead - cut to pieces with axe and sword. The rain lashes and bites into his wounds but it all seems worth it when they find yet more shiny jewels and coins of gold and silver.
He wakes up suddenly and realises he must journey back. It will take him some months, but his decision is made. Maybe he can even find some of his old traveling companions - if they haven't been killed or become too rich to bother adventuring anymore. What would really annoy him though is the thought that they may come across a hoard of magical items and be showing them off when he returned with his couple of crappy potions.
hope you all had fun last night and managed to buy loads of cool magic items you will want to give Thesis when you see him next ;-D
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
The Convenient Caravan of Lovely Magic
Mendez paces outside his lodgings. His hand unconsciously moving to the hilt of his sword.
He can’t seem to settle. The thought of the prisoner being in that dungeon for fifteen years seems to burn at him. Every day lost seems to upset him more.
His dreams are full of horrid visions of flesh withering through time and strangely, the beautiful face of the lady Bard they'd recently rescued.
Whatever Wer discovers, he'll have to act soon. Nothing can stand in his way or delay his actions…
Except for the magical swords and rings on offer at the Wizards caravan.
He can’t seem to settle. The thought of the prisoner being in that dungeon for fifteen years seems to burn at him. Every day lost seems to upset him more.
His dreams are full of horrid visions of flesh withering through time and strangely, the beautiful face of the lady Bard they'd recently rescued.
Whatever Wer discovers, he'll have to act soon. Nothing can stand in his way or delay his actions…
Except for the magical swords and rings on offer at the Wizards caravan.
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