The two scars battled there way through the massive library. Every room had suprises, some protected by ancient traps, some guarded with vile fiends, some infested with horrid undead. The two scars saw each challenge in turn, overcoming each challenge, and proving victorious time and time again. The company had its share of troubles to be sure, Kharask himself coming out of several battles wearing deep and vicious scars. Through the course of there searching however the Two Scars also uncovered ancient treasure, lore, and magic. The wizard collected librams containing nearly forgotten spells, and the rest of the company collected some rare and powerful magical relics as well. The drow walked away with some powerful, and very ancient magical armor. Kharask came out of the library with a new set of armor as well, he was also carrying a powerful warhammer, and a magical statue that turned into a great arcane cat. The entire troupe benefited from there time in the library, but after what seemed an eternity, the Two Scars made it to the third floor of the library. At this point they were tasked with finding three hidden parts of a single key that would unlock the libraries inner sanctum. The immortal guardian who told them of this task fell to madness and had to be brought down by the company. The Two Scars wasted little time, scouring the floor for all its hidden passages, and collecting the three crescent key pieces. Merric inserted the key, and the company was lead into the main chambers of the library, or the Library as the sages inside referred to it. There were six sages, five of which brought forth the great collapse of ages past by utilizing forbidden magic. Each sage seemed to come out of a small enchanged mirror, there were also three larger enchanted mirrors in the room. These mirrors were said to be the collected knowledge of all the sages within the library. The Two Scars were instructed to use the mirrors to ask questions pertaining to them or the past, and that the sages would guide there visions. It is not known to Kharask what the others saw, but he saw the fall of his people, or more specifically the fall of great Arkhosia. He also saw the possibility to reclaim that lost glory. Perhaps Arkhosia was lost, but out of its ashes a true leader could come forth and rebuild. He learned the location of two powerful artifacts used by the last great king of Arkhosia, with these relics Kharask would have what he needed to inspire his people into a new age, to bring war against Tiamat and her twisted followers. During his vision he also saw of the tieflings treachery, and how the necromancer they had killed so long ago was still trying to manipulate there destiny. The rest of the troupe finished there visions as well, and although reeling from the intensity of what they saw, appeared ready to leave. They were transported to the first sage at the beginning of the library, at this point Kharask shattered the statue of the traitorous tiefling, and the Recorder opened a portal, whisking the Two Scars back to Volniks tower, very close to Carahn Has.
(The adventure conclude here.) Will have more posts very soon
Friday, May 29, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Being an Inspiring leader
(Another Character related post)
Kharask is an inspiring warlord. In game terms this means that he uses charisma based effects to heal and bolster his team. This post explains how he does this, and why he is inspiring at all.
Kharask is a powerful figure to look at. He is tall, has a powerful build and wields large, heavy weapons. His very form is naturally intimidating, and he barely has to make a remark at all to cause fear in those around him. Those that speak civil to Kharask quickly realize that the dragonborn is also fairly intelligent and articulate for his race. His words are truthful, and he always speaks in powerful and very audible tones. His body language is expressive, but mostly because he uses practiced and efficient motions. He does not pace or fidget, and most motions he performs are for a specific purpose. A slight nod, a tilt of the head, or a raising of the shoulders are rare, but extremely expressive. His nature is easy to read, and he is extremely reserved as is common for his race, but unlike many members of his race he is trained to take charge of situations that present themselves. He will speak when spoken to, volunteer if necessary, handle events that no one else will handle, and defend those that need defending, either verbaly or physically. It is because of this nature that people are drawn to him, he attracts his followers, he does not call to them. People of all races see something in the dragonborn that they themselves wish to express, perhaps it is his good nature in the heart of questionable times, perhaps it is his heightened sense of honor, or simply because he carries himself with pride. Its because of his reserved nature outside of combat that he is such an effective leader in combat. Once his blood begins heating up in tune with battle, the dragonborn becomes explosive on many levels. His loud voice becomes booming, terrifying to those who have not witnessed it before. Commands are snapped with roars and sharp gestures that are hard to ignore. As allies fall or falter Kharask has been known to blast out roars of such ferocity at there pain, that sheer adrenalin picks the comrade up. When striking out at enemies he seems to become larger than his foes, his very presence suffocating them, making them seem smaller, weaker, and his allies feed on this, able to attack there enemies without a sense of fear and without hesitation. His roars weaken his opponents resolve, and even failed attacks end with ferocious snarls, snapping gestures with his maw, or him burying his weapon into the ground to kick up dust and stone, making even his failures inspiring. During all this he is constantly bellowing orders as well. Although a presence on the battlefield, he uses tactics and positioning just as well as some tactically minded warlords. His commands usually come in the form of arm or head motions to his comrade, or sometimes a gesture with his maul after an attack. In all of these ways is Kharask inspiring, his allies have grown to know his way, and those that travel with him for the first time will not only be terrified, but in awe of his effectiveness.
Some war cries he's been known to bellow out before, during or after killing an opponent.
"May Tovik honor your bones!"
"Your destiny ends with me!"
Regardless, Kharask is not known to insult his enemies in combat unless attempting to bait them. He would rather honor himself and his gods with fair and decent combat, even if his foes are not so inclined.
Kharask inspires his allies in various ways as well. Below are some examples.
Dalanor - The wizard, as always, is difficult to figure out. When in combat Kharask uses verbal commands to dictate orders, as this seems to be most effective with the arcanist. The wizard usually requires tremendous focus to do his spells, and Kharask bellowing roars in his ears would no doubt disrupt that. Hand and weapon gestures along with an occasional verbal command is all he normally needs to direct the intelligent mage.
Baerd - Baerd responds to Kharask's roars and intensity with a deeper intensity. Kharasks control over Baerd lasts only a few moments in combat, and it is usually all the dragonborn can do to direct him to a troubling part of the battlefield, and then hope for the best. Still, Kharasks war cries and posturing do a lot to keep the dwarves momentum going, and Kharask has noted that as the battle goes on, Baerd adds some war cries of his own.
Azriel - Kharask's presence keeps the elf on his toes, keeps him focused and alert. Normally used to the quiet elements of nature, Kharask's bellowing, powerful form keeps the elf full of adrenalin and his mind centered in battle. Kharask uses powerful, loud commands or roars to motivate the elf, jolting him into action. Extended battles with the dragonborn can make the elf edgy and anxious, but also sharper, and more alert to danger and avoiding it.
Merric - Similar to provoking azriel to action, Kharask utilizes roars and posturing to motivate his small friend. Usually in combat it is hard for the dragonborn to keep an eye on his quick moving and elusive ally, so he does his best to simply target enemies that are becoming bothersome, using roars and challenges. Soon after there is almost always a dagger in that foes leg or back.
Erantaelik - Although responsive to most of Kharask's leading techniques due to his military training, the drow and the dragonborn usually have the same tactical mind about most combat situations. Usually Kharask uses roars and gestures towards the drow when he begins faltering, and the drow responds accordingly.
Ok, thats my character post for the week. Going to skip the regular gaming post since its a dungeon crawl, will finish it when the dungeon is finished.
Kharask is an inspiring warlord. In game terms this means that he uses charisma based effects to heal and bolster his team. This post explains how he does this, and why he is inspiring at all.
Kharask is a powerful figure to look at. He is tall, has a powerful build and wields large, heavy weapons. His very form is naturally intimidating, and he barely has to make a remark at all to cause fear in those around him. Those that speak civil to Kharask quickly realize that the dragonborn is also fairly intelligent and articulate for his race. His words are truthful, and he always speaks in powerful and very audible tones. His body language is expressive, but mostly because he uses practiced and efficient motions. He does not pace or fidget, and most motions he performs are for a specific purpose. A slight nod, a tilt of the head, or a raising of the shoulders are rare, but extremely expressive. His nature is easy to read, and he is extremely reserved as is common for his race, but unlike many members of his race he is trained to take charge of situations that present themselves. He will speak when spoken to, volunteer if necessary, handle events that no one else will handle, and defend those that need defending, either verbaly or physically. It is because of this nature that people are drawn to him, he attracts his followers, he does not call to them. People of all races see something in the dragonborn that they themselves wish to express, perhaps it is his good nature in the heart of questionable times, perhaps it is his heightened sense of honor, or simply because he carries himself with pride. Its because of his reserved nature outside of combat that he is such an effective leader in combat. Once his blood begins heating up in tune with battle, the dragonborn becomes explosive on many levels. His loud voice becomes booming, terrifying to those who have not witnessed it before. Commands are snapped with roars and sharp gestures that are hard to ignore. As allies fall or falter Kharask has been known to blast out roars of such ferocity at there pain, that sheer adrenalin picks the comrade up. When striking out at enemies he seems to become larger than his foes, his very presence suffocating them, making them seem smaller, weaker, and his allies feed on this, able to attack there enemies without a sense of fear and without hesitation. His roars weaken his opponents resolve, and even failed attacks end with ferocious snarls, snapping gestures with his maw, or him burying his weapon into the ground to kick up dust and stone, making even his failures inspiring. During all this he is constantly bellowing orders as well. Although a presence on the battlefield, he uses tactics and positioning just as well as some tactically minded warlords. His commands usually come in the form of arm or head motions to his comrade, or sometimes a gesture with his maul after an attack. In all of these ways is Kharask inspiring, his allies have grown to know his way, and those that travel with him for the first time will not only be terrified, but in awe of his effectiveness.
Some war cries he's been known to bellow out before, during or after killing an opponent.
"May Tovik honor your bones!"
"Your destiny ends with me!"
Regardless, Kharask is not known to insult his enemies in combat unless attempting to bait them. He would rather honor himself and his gods with fair and decent combat, even if his foes are not so inclined.
Kharask inspires his allies in various ways as well. Below are some examples.
Dalanor - The wizard, as always, is difficult to figure out. When in combat Kharask uses verbal commands to dictate orders, as this seems to be most effective with the arcanist. The wizard usually requires tremendous focus to do his spells, and Kharask bellowing roars in his ears would no doubt disrupt that. Hand and weapon gestures along with an occasional verbal command is all he normally needs to direct the intelligent mage.
Baerd - Baerd responds to Kharask's roars and intensity with a deeper intensity. Kharasks control over Baerd lasts only a few moments in combat, and it is usually all the dragonborn can do to direct him to a troubling part of the battlefield, and then hope for the best. Still, Kharasks war cries and posturing do a lot to keep the dwarves momentum going, and Kharask has noted that as the battle goes on, Baerd adds some war cries of his own.
Azriel - Kharask's presence keeps the elf on his toes, keeps him focused and alert. Normally used to the quiet elements of nature, Kharask's bellowing, powerful form keeps the elf full of adrenalin and his mind centered in battle. Kharask uses powerful, loud commands or roars to motivate the elf, jolting him into action. Extended battles with the dragonborn can make the elf edgy and anxious, but also sharper, and more alert to danger and avoiding it.
Merric - Similar to provoking azriel to action, Kharask utilizes roars and posturing to motivate his small friend. Usually in combat it is hard for the dragonborn to keep an eye on his quick moving and elusive ally, so he does his best to simply target enemies that are becoming bothersome, using roars and challenges. Soon after there is almost always a dagger in that foes leg or back.
Erantaelik - Although responsive to most of Kharask's leading techniques due to his military training, the drow and the dragonborn usually have the same tactical mind about most combat situations. Usually Kharask uses roars and gestures towards the drow when he begins faltering, and the drow responds accordingly.
Ok, thats my character post for the week. Going to skip the regular gaming post since its a dungeon crawl, will finish it when the dungeon is finished.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The Duel
(A character related post. This post is a passage from Kharask's past)
Kharask stepped into the circle of stones, the dueling circling. She did the same. She was over a foot shorter than Kharask, and was not nearly as strong, but she was fast, and her mind was fast as well. The two were the top prospects for leaders in most of the neighboring tribes, the Dragonborn people had not seen members of there tribe who were as competent or powerful in ages. The duel tested the combat mettle of a warlord. A warlord in his own right was nothing without troops, but there were times when the leader would be faced to fight one on one, perhaps an ambush, perhaps being the last one standing. The duel fitted two leaders against each other, the warlord prospects had already gone up against experienced fighters, only she bested her opponent, the others learned lessons in combat. There was no failure in such a fight. Dragonborn fighters were the fiercest most dependable warriors of there day. This day was a leader versus a leader. Both were experienced, both were powerful. She was dressed in loose chain mail, wearing no helmet, letting her long corded hornes fall behind her like thick hair. Her scales were dark red, like her eyes, and the thick patches were an almost mud colored brown. She used a long sword as her primary weapon, and carried a small shield on her off hand. On her back she was equipped with several javelins, much like Kharask. Kharask had no shield, wielding a great maul in battle in its stead. Others in the tribe had gathered to see this fight, it was highly anticipated, and many elders from other tribes had gathered as well. A lorekeeper was to be the judge. The rules were simple, the first one to fall and not get up forfieted the match to the victor. Death was a possibility in this fight. A very real one. The ring of stones was large, large enough for the two to move about and use whatever weapons they had at there disposal without running out of space. Leaving the stones was disqualification, but it was not considered an honorable act to force a combatant out of the stones. The lorekeeper gave his signal to the two. Kharask bowed to her, having the greatest respect to his opponent, she in turn bowed to him. Then the battle began. She made the first move, coming in fast and low, a series of precision cuts aimed at Kharask's legs. She drew some blood, but his hide was thick, and the damage was minimal at best. Using leverage and size to his advantage, he brought the haft of his maul down on the side of her head, slamming her into the ground, then followed through with a powerful swing. She managed to roll out of the way and jump to her feet as the maul slammed into the ground where her head had been, he switched his momentum and swung the maul out and up hoping to catch her in the chest, but she manuevered easily out of the way, ducking in, and sending several inches of steel through the side of his chainmail and into his flesh. Off balance and reeling from the wound, Kharask stumbled backwards, she advanced quickly, hoping to take advantage of her previous attack. Kharask roared out as she closed in, and a blast of flames washed over her, she brought her shield up in time to protect her eyes, but the scales on her leg and sword arm were scorched badly. Kharask swung through the flames in a downward arc, she moved her shield up to deflect it, and the impact was met with a sickening crunch as the bones under the small metal shield were crushed. With her defenses down Kharask swung in a heavy arc, hoping to catch her in the head and end the fight. As his arms were behind his back in mid swing, she ducked quickly in, roaring out a blast of lightning that pushed the large dragonborn backwards into a stumble. She then brought her sword up into and through the elbow of his off hand, ripping it out and moving back to a defensive posture. Kharask reeled from his wounds, and was on the verge of collapse, but he would not give up, he promised himself and her to give his all in this battle, and thats exactly what he would do. With a great bellowing roar the great dragonborn charged her, she darted to the side but he caught her none the less, slamming his shoulder into her chest and sending her flying several feet back to land heavily on her side. She was stunned, and this was Kharasks moment, he moved forward, intent on bringing his maul down upon her and ending this battle. Something was wrong though, hee could not move, all strength had left his body. His mind reeled, how? his previous wounds were serious to be sure, but not so much to leave him in such a state. He watched as she stood up slowly, shakily, her shield hanging limply in her off hand. Her sword, where was her sword? Looking down he saw the hilt of it, buried just under his heart, perfectly piercing his lung. Clever, very clever, she had used the charge to give her the momentum to get through his thick scales and heavy armor. She stood there watching him for several moments, all was silent with the crowd, no one spoke, no one cheered. Kharask took two more deep, labored breaths, and then fell over, the life and spirit of battle leaving him. He had lost this day to her, as he had lost every contest to her. She truelly would be the leader of his people, and as darkness took hold of his sight, he clung to that simple, bright hope.
(and thats the end of that chapter. hope you enjoyed)
Kharask stepped into the circle of stones, the dueling circling. She did the same. She was over a foot shorter than Kharask, and was not nearly as strong, but she was fast, and her mind was fast as well. The two were the top prospects for leaders in most of the neighboring tribes, the Dragonborn people had not seen members of there tribe who were as competent or powerful in ages. The duel tested the combat mettle of a warlord. A warlord in his own right was nothing without troops, but there were times when the leader would be faced to fight one on one, perhaps an ambush, perhaps being the last one standing. The duel fitted two leaders against each other, the warlord prospects had already gone up against experienced fighters, only she bested her opponent, the others learned lessons in combat. There was no failure in such a fight. Dragonborn fighters were the fiercest most dependable warriors of there day. This day was a leader versus a leader. Both were experienced, both were powerful. She was dressed in loose chain mail, wearing no helmet, letting her long corded hornes fall behind her like thick hair. Her scales were dark red, like her eyes, and the thick patches were an almost mud colored brown. She used a long sword as her primary weapon, and carried a small shield on her off hand. On her back she was equipped with several javelins, much like Kharask. Kharask had no shield, wielding a great maul in battle in its stead. Others in the tribe had gathered to see this fight, it was highly anticipated, and many elders from other tribes had gathered as well. A lorekeeper was to be the judge. The rules were simple, the first one to fall and not get up forfieted the match to the victor. Death was a possibility in this fight. A very real one. The ring of stones was large, large enough for the two to move about and use whatever weapons they had at there disposal without running out of space. Leaving the stones was disqualification, but it was not considered an honorable act to force a combatant out of the stones. The lorekeeper gave his signal to the two. Kharask bowed to her, having the greatest respect to his opponent, she in turn bowed to him. Then the battle began. She made the first move, coming in fast and low, a series of precision cuts aimed at Kharask's legs. She drew some blood, but his hide was thick, and the damage was minimal at best. Using leverage and size to his advantage, he brought the haft of his maul down on the side of her head, slamming her into the ground, then followed through with a powerful swing. She managed to roll out of the way and jump to her feet as the maul slammed into the ground where her head had been, he switched his momentum and swung the maul out and up hoping to catch her in the chest, but she manuevered easily out of the way, ducking in, and sending several inches of steel through the side of his chainmail and into his flesh. Off balance and reeling from the wound, Kharask stumbled backwards, she advanced quickly, hoping to take advantage of her previous attack. Kharask roared out as she closed in, and a blast of flames washed over her, she brought her shield up in time to protect her eyes, but the scales on her leg and sword arm were scorched badly. Kharask swung through the flames in a downward arc, she moved her shield up to deflect it, and the impact was met with a sickening crunch as the bones under the small metal shield were crushed. With her defenses down Kharask swung in a heavy arc, hoping to catch her in the head and end the fight. As his arms were behind his back in mid swing, she ducked quickly in, roaring out a blast of lightning that pushed the large dragonborn backwards into a stumble. She then brought her sword up into and through the elbow of his off hand, ripping it out and moving back to a defensive posture. Kharask reeled from his wounds, and was on the verge of collapse, but he would not give up, he promised himself and her to give his all in this battle, and thats exactly what he would do. With a great bellowing roar the great dragonborn charged her, she darted to the side but he caught her none the less, slamming his shoulder into her chest and sending her flying several feet back to land heavily on her side. She was stunned, and this was Kharasks moment, he moved forward, intent on bringing his maul down upon her and ending this battle. Something was wrong though, hee could not move, all strength had left his body. His mind reeled, how? his previous wounds were serious to be sure, but not so much to leave him in such a state. He watched as she stood up slowly, shakily, her shield hanging limply in her off hand. Her sword, where was her sword? Looking down he saw the hilt of it, buried just under his heart, perfectly piercing his lung. Clever, very clever, she had used the charge to give her the momentum to get through his thick scales and heavy armor. She stood there watching him for several moments, all was silent with the crowd, no one spoke, no one cheered. Kharask took two more deep, labored breaths, and then fell over, the life and spirit of battle leaving him. He had lost this day to her, as he had lost every contest to her. She truelly would be the leader of his people, and as darkness took hold of his sight, he clung to that simple, bright hope.
(and thats the end of that chapter. hope you enjoyed)
The Library
(Campaign related post.)
The two scars finally reached and delved into the library. The place was ancient, the masonry from a forgotten time. The whole troupe noted however that the library was fairly well preserved, considering the extreme age of the place. The tiefling led them eventually to one of the ancient named mages. He told the two scars that there answers lied further within the library, to another one of these ancient ghosts. He then turned the tiefling to stone, the woman having broken her oath to the great spectre. Kharask gathered the company and began there exploration of the place. During there journeys they encountered several different forms of guardians and inhabitants, some new, some familiar. Flaming skulls, talking heads, great animated statues attacked at almost every turn. The two scars prevailed each and every time. The teamwork of the troupe was nearly perfect. Erantaelik used his magicks to slow and nullify his foes attacks. Azriel was dealing out a tremendous amount of pain to the companies foes, almost as effective as Baerd, and more effective when it came to mobility and tactics. Dalanor switched the nature of his magicks to the strange conditions of the library, but used them more or less the same as always, concentrating on spreading out damage and slowing the enemy down when he could. He was getting better at meshing with the troupe, but his tactics wavered, going from selfless to selfish without notice. His mannerisms were getting more frantic as they got further into the library as well, another notable concern to the Dragonborn. Merric seemed a bit more frightened than usual, almost being too cautious in the library. He seemed hesitant to initiate attacks, and asked about resting after almost every hostile encounter. In battle the hafling made up for his hesitations, he was the parties main combatant, finishing most of the enemies that the rest of the troupe worked on througout an encounter. All in all the two scars made there way deeper into the library without many stumbles. Even trapped rooms and heavy odds were not slowing them down much.
(The session ends with them resting after another encounter on the second level of the library. I'll have another update next week)
The two scars finally reached and delved into the library. The place was ancient, the masonry from a forgotten time. The whole troupe noted however that the library was fairly well preserved, considering the extreme age of the place. The tiefling led them eventually to one of the ancient named mages. He told the two scars that there answers lied further within the library, to another one of these ancient ghosts. He then turned the tiefling to stone, the woman having broken her oath to the great spectre. Kharask gathered the company and began there exploration of the place. During there journeys they encountered several different forms of guardians and inhabitants, some new, some familiar. Flaming skulls, talking heads, great animated statues attacked at almost every turn. The two scars prevailed each and every time. The teamwork of the troupe was nearly perfect. Erantaelik used his magicks to slow and nullify his foes attacks. Azriel was dealing out a tremendous amount of pain to the companies foes, almost as effective as Baerd, and more effective when it came to mobility and tactics. Dalanor switched the nature of his magicks to the strange conditions of the library, but used them more or less the same as always, concentrating on spreading out damage and slowing the enemy down when he could. He was getting better at meshing with the troupe, but his tactics wavered, going from selfless to selfish without notice. His mannerisms were getting more frantic as they got further into the library as well, another notable concern to the Dragonborn. Merric seemed a bit more frightened than usual, almost being too cautious in the library. He seemed hesitant to initiate attacks, and asked about resting after almost every hostile encounter. In battle the hafling made up for his hesitations, he was the parties main combatant, finishing most of the enemies that the rest of the troupe worked on througout an encounter. All in all the two scars made there way deeper into the library without many stumbles. Even trapped rooms and heavy odds were not slowing them down much.
(The session ends with them resting after another encounter on the second level of the library. I'll have another update next week)
Friday, May 1, 2009
A madman's Wisdom
(A character related post. This is of Zeriveth and his meeting with Dalanor before the last adventure.)
They came to me. They always came to me. An empty whore. Water in the wastes. First was the princess. Hypnotic breasts. Hot flesh. No distraction it was to this one. Questions of forgiveness. But not from this one. No, from a father. A devil perhaps, or perhaps the creator of her world. Closed off and abandoned. Forgotten graves. Two Scars is the salvation! and the Damnation! to kill one is to save another. Sacrifice is not without its Sacrifice. The name as it says, it is. No one sees. Not even the princess. Doomed as she is, even in salvation, even in damnation. Doomed as she is. Silver elf. But not of silver. Of pale, pasted flesh. White hair and cold ambition. No luster, no intelligence. Dull crude ore fallen in mud. Talks to this one about magic and owls, about salvation and damnation. Stupid questions from a stupid mind. Needing directions to the front door. Needing advice on that already known by everyone. Asking that which need not be asked. Questions this ones sanity? Questions the magic of this one? I smell death on it. Death and weakness on an already deceased elf. To live forever is to be a zombie. All the silver elves are dead. Long dead. Better forgotten. Frost hisses and this one talks. Talking about pretty things and silver words. Better to talk about something than be eaten for nothing. Frost. Deadly frost. "I will gobble you up savior" he said to me. He said this of my precious head. I need this part of me, and so i spoke silken words to the silken elf. Let him be forgotten and dead. Let him part this world as he wants to be. Glorified in his own magnificence. Fire does this thing. This one has fire. Much fire to give to the zombie elf. He will return. Ania watches. Frost feasts. Careful. Careful.
(and thats that)
They came to me. They always came to me. An empty whore. Water in the wastes. First was the princess. Hypnotic breasts. Hot flesh. No distraction it was to this one. Questions of forgiveness. But not from this one. No, from a father. A devil perhaps, or perhaps the creator of her world. Closed off and abandoned. Forgotten graves. Two Scars is the salvation! and the Damnation! to kill one is to save another. Sacrifice is not without its Sacrifice. The name as it says, it is. No one sees. Not even the princess. Doomed as she is, even in salvation, even in damnation. Doomed as she is. Silver elf. But not of silver. Of pale, pasted flesh. White hair and cold ambition. No luster, no intelligence. Dull crude ore fallen in mud. Talks to this one about magic and owls, about salvation and damnation. Stupid questions from a stupid mind. Needing directions to the front door. Needing advice on that already known by everyone. Asking that which need not be asked. Questions this ones sanity? Questions the magic of this one? I smell death on it. Death and weakness on an already deceased elf. To live forever is to be a zombie. All the silver elves are dead. Long dead. Better forgotten. Frost hisses and this one talks. Talking about pretty things and silver words. Better to talk about something than be eaten for nothing. Frost. Deadly frost. "I will gobble you up savior" he said to me. He said this of my precious head. I need this part of me, and so i spoke silken words to the silken elf. Let him be forgotten and dead. Let him part this world as he wants to be. Glorified in his own magnificence. Fire does this thing. This one has fire. Much fire to give to the zombie elf. He will return. Ania watches. Frost feasts. Careful. Careful.
(and thats that)
A form of Direction
(This is a character and campaign related post)
The two scars saw Akrava off from Almory. They were recieved as heroes by the port town for kiling Narraxis and freeing the ships to sail. The Two Scars spent a night celebrating there victory and on the following morning they headed towars Caran-Has to complete there contract. The travel was uneventful and they reached the large port city without delay. After settling there contracts they met with Laurelle and discussed other events. A tiefling named Kalara was introduced to Kharask and told the dragon born and Dalanor that they had a destiny north east in the woods surrounding Candomia, an old human kingdom. There was a temple there, and a being known as the recorder needed to speak with them. Dalanor scaled through the lies of the tiefling to uncover the fact she was working for Bael, a powerful duke of hell, and an enemy of Tiamat. Dalanor and Kharask surmised her power was sealed away, and the tiefling sought to get her power back by aiding the Two Scars into finding what it was buried beneath the library ruins in Candomia. Kharask approached his troupe and told them it was not an official contract. Erantaelik reminded Kharask that they all had issues with the cult of Tiamat and that they would stick together when confronted with her minions. After quick preperations they gathered there members. Baerd left on his own business, possibly due to words he had with Kharask. Azriel joined the troupe to lead them through a mostly untraveled north easter path. The two scars made a great deal of progress into the north eastern path, only encountering a few areas of trouble, the most notable being several ogres. It took the company no time to dispatch the behemoths and make there way closer to the now goblin controlled area of candomia. As the troupe made more progress, and closed in on there destination, Kharask began to wonder more on his destiny, and what it really meant to his future, his friends future, and the future of his people.
(I'll have more posts soon)
The two scars saw Akrava off from Almory. They were recieved as heroes by the port town for kiling Narraxis and freeing the ships to sail. The Two Scars spent a night celebrating there victory and on the following morning they headed towars Caran-Has to complete there contract. The travel was uneventful and they reached the large port city without delay. After settling there contracts they met with Laurelle and discussed other events. A tiefling named Kalara was introduced to Kharask and told the dragon born and Dalanor that they had a destiny north east in the woods surrounding Candomia, an old human kingdom. There was a temple there, and a being known as the recorder needed to speak with them. Dalanor scaled through the lies of the tiefling to uncover the fact she was working for Bael, a powerful duke of hell, and an enemy of Tiamat. Dalanor and Kharask surmised her power was sealed away, and the tiefling sought to get her power back by aiding the Two Scars into finding what it was buried beneath the library ruins in Candomia. Kharask approached his troupe and told them it was not an official contract. Erantaelik reminded Kharask that they all had issues with the cult of Tiamat and that they would stick together when confronted with her minions. After quick preperations they gathered there members. Baerd left on his own business, possibly due to words he had with Kharask. Azriel joined the troupe to lead them through a mostly untraveled north easter path. The two scars made a great deal of progress into the north eastern path, only encountering a few areas of trouble, the most notable being several ogres. It took the company no time to dispatch the behemoths and make there way closer to the now goblin controlled area of candomia. As the troupe made more progress, and closed in on there destination, Kharask began to wonder more on his destiny, and what it really meant to his future, his friends future, and the future of his people.
(I'll have more posts soon)
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