Tally Dor

Stay Awhile and Listen.

Torrential rain was pouring over the dark landscape. The only light was when the lightening flashed. Illuminating a dark castle on the hill. The ancient castle was old, far older than the large forest that grew below it. Though the castle showed signs of disrepair, it could not hide the elegance that had been there in centuries past. A tattered and faded banner blew about in the raging winds of the storm, the last of its kind. None could even see what had once been upon it.

Most of the wooden doors had long since rotted away allowing the wind to whip through the castle interior. In some spots rain puddles could be seen, most things of value had long since been looted. The only thing of interest was in the castles throne room. In the throne room sat nine total thrones. Eight of them though majestic and large were dwarfed in comparison to the one that sat in the middle. Each seemed to be sculpted of pure white marble and each throne was occupied, save for the largest in the middle.

Occupied by a statue. Each statue was different. Some resembled men, others humanoid creatures. One statue found itself conscious, though it was like it was deep in a quagmire and unable to move. It's eyes barely able to make sense of what was in its line of vision as it could not blink to focus, nor could it see what was beyond its field of vision. It noticed one of the statues farthest away from itself beginning to awake. Breaking free of the stone that had encased it. The humanoid with obsidian skin and magnificent stag antlers shook itself.

The Stag's expression was solemn as he glanced at each of the statues before turning to face the paralyzed one. It looked towards the empty throne and a sad sigh escaped his lips as it left the throne room, and the paralyzed statue lost consciousness. Its mind seemed to float between periods of lucidness and a bizarre haze where despite its eyes being wide open it would see nothing. Every time it regained itself, it would notice time had passed and another statue was missing.

What did it all mean? Why could it not remember why the throne room was slowly emptying itself?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Storyteller stopped his tale as a guard barged into the Stone Rose Tavern issuing an alert that all adventurers were urgently needed at the walls. A large warband of orcs were on the horizon and the city guard were hard pressed to fight such a number by themselves. As several of the adventurers left dropping coins before the Storyteller. He assured them he would wait for them to return.

He raised his mug and drank from it greedily. How he wished he could be on the front lines again, but his stamina wasn't what it used to be.

The Dark God Lies Dreaming < Seeking M or F>

Do I spy a bump?

Stay Awhile and Listen.

The Barkeep slapped the Storyteller on the shoulder with a boisterous laugh. "My friend! Surely you jest!" The Barkeeps grin was visible beneath his hairy mustache. "Jest I do not my old friend and don't call me Shirley." As the Storytellers lame joke went out both of the men roared with laughter. A few drinks had made the atmosphere lighthearted.

"All jokes aside." Spoke the Barkeep. "Are you serious? She could actually shoot off hundreds of spells in the time it took another mage to fire five?" The Storyteller chuckles. "The world is a wonderous place my friend. It's so much bigger than anyone here could ever dream." He sipped from his tankard the mead going down like water. "It is a shame most here will never know what lays beyond the portals. Content to be here is nothing to be shamed off, but how I miss it at times."

The Barkeep filled his tankard and poured himself a shot of something far stronger, since it was after hours and the two were sitting alone at the bar. The Barkeeps closed his eyes with a grimace as the liquid fire raced down to his belly. "Sometimes I want to travel again, but I can't leave the Stone Rose Tavern. It is my life's dream."

The Storyteller smiled as he watched the liquid in his tankard swirl about as he slowly rotated it. "This reminds me of something...."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was once a machine that was created to serve the world, but something went wrong with its programming, and it slowly began to convert all organic life around it into cold unthinking metal. Its creators tried to stop it and get rid of it, but they failed and within a few years all of the planet was no more. With its purpose of turning the world into a safe place finished the machine was lost, and with its creators assimilated and no further instructions being given to it. The machine began to exhibit free thought as it now began to look around its world. Seeing pictures and holograms of things that no longer existed because they had become metallic. The machine began to wander around the planet seeing if it had missed any signs of natural life and it could find none. It felt a strange emotion.

Sadness.

A longing for something it could no longer grasp.

It was then that it stumbled upon a lone Pathworks portal. It entered into this new world and its sensors were immediately over stimulated with all the vibrant colors of nature. The view of creatures scampering about the woods it found itself in. The machine allowed its cold claw of steel to touch the rough surface of a tree as it observed the clear blue unpopulated skies. It quickly left back to its own world and within a week it returned to the new world, but it was no longer alone. With it came thousands of automatons. Unlike their creator that seemed to be a hovering block of metal with metal grabbers for arms these Metal golems were more human shaped. It tasked its creation to be watchers of this world. Guardians of nature, to make sure the course of life runs its directive.

The Machine God brought countless pieces from the portal and as its golems slowly spread out across this new green world, it built itself a flying citadel so that it could now forever silently watch this world and marvel in its beauty. It was fascinated by this world; the technology was severely lacking compared to its home world, but the inhabitants were all smiling and happy. It noted that the world was severely lacking in humans, and it was mostly ruled by different clans of monsters. Some it had heard of in fantasy books and others that were a whole new marvel. The humans it could find seemed to be more nomadic in nature or were living in far off remote places away from what it would deem monsters.

The Machine God did not involve itself with the people of this world, just observing and taking in knowledge from its golems that were constantly learning from the fauna and the flora they discovered. Some of the golems even encountered sentient beings and were able to gleam more knowledge and be better protectors of the wild.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The Storyteller was about to continue on when he heard a soft snoring. His audience had fallen asleep, apparently having drunk too much firewater which had lulled the Barkeep to sleep. He smiled and left a small bag of silver by the Barkeep to cover both of their drinks and left the Stone Rose Tavern locking it behind himself.

Stay Awhile and Listen.

The rain was falling thick and heavy as the Storyteller warmed himself by the fire. It was one of those rare moments where he had taken his brown cloak off and had it hanging by the stone hearth drying by the fire. He like many others close to the fire. Some were attempting to dry off while others were just enjoying its warmth. A handful of children were talking amongst themselves before one of them turned to the old gentlemen.

"Do you have any stories of your youth?" He inquired curiously.

The Storyteller raised an eyebrow. "My youth?" He gave a lighthearted chuckle. "You would find my youth to be quite boring I am afraid." He spread out his arms. "This world is one of fantasy, magic, and danger and has been a part of the Pathworks for close to a millennium." He wrapped his hands together in front of the fire.

"I was already closing in on thirty-seven years old when the Pathworks latched onto my world. My world had its fair share of problems, but it was relatively peaceful. It had technology that far surpassed this world, but much we had would be redundant here." He sat down at the table and gestured towards the children to sit. "We had these boxes that were a bit taller than a grown man and they kept food cold." He paused a moment trying to figure out the best way to describe electricity. "They were all powered by lightening. Matter of fact everything was powered by lightening, but it wasn't magic!" Some of the children giggled while another made the comment that it sounded dangerous.

"Yes, with the power of the runesmiths what I would call a refrigerator would be a waste of space because a runesmith can just put several preserving runes in a room and it would be so much larger."

The Storyteller stared outside watching the rain blanket the world. In his hazel eyes was a longing look.

"You children might not know this but when a world is first opened to the Pathworks, many strange things happen. A world joins the Pathworks when the gods decide the world has run its course or is one its way to dying and needs to be saved. I will tell you of the day. Of the day my world changed. Many called it an apocalypse and my world were unique in there were many apocalyptic events that were spread over the world.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Magnus was kneeling in front of a dirty refrigerator cleaning out its interior. It had been repo'ed from a customer that had not kept up to date on its payments. So, his company wanted it cleaned out and up so it could be put in the used area for resale. He was currently in the company's warehouse when one of his friends and fellow coworker named Deshon walked up beside him.

"Hey man, can I get you to come with me to the third warehouse? I need help moving some pallets of furniture." "Sure" said Magnus as he followed Deshon through the warehouse going past all the boxes of unopened furniture and appliances that the company sold in the front of the massive store. As they approached the doorway to the third warehouse something seemed off to both of them, but neither could place their finger upon it as they crossed the threshold into the third warehouse.

Magnus and Deshon froze in their tracks both were blinking trying to make sense of what was in front of them. The third warehouse that they knew which should have had rows of pallets of unboxed furniture and even a few old forklifts was completely empty. Even the light fixtures on the ceiling were gone. Stranger yet the world that had been vibrant with color had all become gray. The darkness of the warehouse gray. The sunlight pouring in from one of the bay doors further down the third warehouse was lacking its yellow tones and was a cold gray. Magnus even looked towards Deshon his usual caramel colored skin now had a gray tone to it.

"What the..." Magnus stopped himself. Despite speaking he heard no words come from his mouth. In fact, he quickly snapped his fingers but there was no familiar snap. The entire world had become gray and soundless. The two looked at one another after some of the confusion and panic had passed. Behind them where the second warehouse had been now a black void stood. Taking tentative steps, they reached the open bay door that shined with gray sunlight. What should have been a concrete parking lot was now a vast meadow with giant trees, the only thing that showed evidence of the parking lot was broken concrete here and there. The world had also regained its color and sound. Neither of them dared to returned to the warehouse.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The storyteller smiled at the kids. "It was a very wild ride and me and my friend really got off easy considering some were instantly faced with monsters that tore them to pieces..."

Stay Awhile and Listen.

Might as well do a Character Sheet for reference if anyone ever wishes to play the StoryTeller

Name: Magnus Sloan (Most commonly referred to as The Storyteller)
Age:??
Race: Human?

Picture:

Brief bio: He is commonly seen wearing a mud brown cloak with the hood up. Smoking from a long pipe. He knows much and seems unnaturally long lived if one takes his collections of stories to heart. He also seems well versed in different types of fire magic. He claims to be from a different realm but has never spoken its name. He calls himself a traveler of the Pathworks. Which is the name of a collection of portals that go all over the known universes.

Location: The Stone Rose Tavern is located in the bustling city of Bradinton.

Stay Awhile and Listen.

After the Storyteller finished his story, a massive man arose. He was easily close to seven feet tall. A barbarian from the Hinterlands. He walked in front of the Storyteller and looked down at him and the Storyteller in turn cranked his neck up to look at the giant of a man.

"I have a story to tell you, old one." The Barbarian's voice boomed like a drum.

The old one as he was referred to smiled and pointed towards a seat that was elevated like his and the giant sat down on the creaking and protesting chair and began to tell his tale.

"My people were wiped out. A strange illness that came from an angry god."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell of smoke was thick in the air of the settlement as men and women could be heard shouting, with the cries of children in the background. The chaotic sounds of battle echoed throughout the night. The Barbarians had formed a line in the center of town, all that stood in front of them were destroyed buildings, dead bodies, and strange things. Things that had once been their friends and neighbors.

Behind the line of warriors was what remained.

Huddled masses and a desperate hope for survival.

The leading Barbarian who sported a fiery mane of hair roared as he swung his halberd cleaving what had once been his best friend in half. The two halves of the body trembled and quivered before blood red vines began to emerge out and grab a hold of themselves and pull the body back together. The dead did not stay dead, but the living did tire.

The Barbarian did not stand idly by as the halves tried to reunite, he flung a torch onto the body, and it began to quickly catch almost like it was no longer flesh and bone, but thatch and straw. The vines seemed to scream as they were quickly engulfed. Fire had been the only thing that truly seemed to stop these things.

Those that had been infected by the green longer had more telling signs. Sprouted leaves, thorny vines that seemed to spiral around their limbs, oaken skin. What was even worse, they had no idea how it spread. Fine one day and the next they were trying to grab other villagers and take them out into the woods where they would come back changed.

In mere hours the warriors began to drop one by one from exhaustion and wounds. Drug off screaming to the woods. Until it was only the Barbarian with the flaming locks wielding a broken halberd that was left resisting.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"He chose the cowards way out. He ordered the people behind him to douse themselves in oil along with himself and they ignited it. Choosing to die rather than take the god's blessing."

The Storyteller frowned.

"I have traveled quite far going from village to village when I am able..." The barbarian said quietly. "All must know of the green."

Things could be seen rippling under the Barbarians skin as he grinned manically, but before he could do anything the Storyteller moved with quickness that should have not been possible with his age and build. His hand resting as high up as he could reach on the Barbarian.

"I thank you for your tale wanderer, but I am afraid it can go no further." As he finished his last word a blaze of blue flame radiated from his hand and with each pulse of the strange blue flame it surged across the giant's body. His screams echoing through the Stone Rose Tavern and out into the city of Bradington. As the body was quickly consumed and turned to ash before the stunned crowd the Storyteller nodded towards the Barkeep who immediately sent out a man to get a hold of the town guard.

Stay Awhile and Listen.

The Storyteller sucked his teeth and made a dismissive gesture. He has been interrupted in the midst of a story by an unruly patron who did not like his tale. Perhaps the patron had one to many drinks, or just was an outspoken individual, either way it definitely spoiled the story.

"I can understand why you feel this way, but I promise you the universe is a vast place." His eyes focusing on patron. "I also know you have not left this town in over twenty years. What do you know of this world, let alone what lies beyond the portals?"

The man frowned and began to argue back but was booed by the adventurers near him and even one of his friends tried to grab him and pull him away. Once the man was out of the Stone Rose Tavern the Storyteller leaned back in his seat. Looking around at all the eyes upon him, He glanced at the Barkeep who just shrugged his shoulders.

"I think I have spoiled you all with too many stories pertaining to humans, elves, and dwarves." He grinned. "Perhaps it is time I regale you with some of the tales from my homeland. Most of you know I am not from Urth. I have been through so many worlds because of my travels in the Pathworks. I am reminded of a friend of mine...."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Goblins in most worlds are an annoyance at best. Sometimes they can be a dire threat if left unchecked. There was such a goblin raiding party that had been ravaging orc towns that surrounded their woods, but the woods were vast, and it easily allowed the goblins an escape anytime adventurers tried to cull their numbers. They had a burrow that they lived in, and a young goblin was born. He was a totally unremarkable specimen. Average in height, build, intelligence, and strength nothing that would make him stand out.

One day this young goblin wandered away from the burrow and fell into a pit. When his body hit the ground, it gave way dropping him even further into the ground. The small goblin found himself surrounded by faintly glowing crystal gems. He gazed with wonder upon the glittering stones. Dragging his fingers across them, feeling them to somehow be cool and yet warm at the same time. The little goblin wandered around for a long time in that cavern completely unaware of all the mana that was saturating the air and himself.

Moments turned to hours, and hours into days, and days into weeks. The little goblin explored and didn't starve to death shockingly. Its body became much stronger, and it was even beginning to sport black stubble upon its head. The little goblin was evolving in this mana rich environment. As it became smarter it finally climbed out of the hole it found itself in. The other goblins noticed him when he returned and how he looked. How he seemed slightly bulkier than them and the sudden appearance of hair, something that was usually only common in goblin females. The little goblin would be amongst his own kind when the warriors were out and when he could hear them coming, he'd leave for his crystal cavern.

As he grew smarter, he began to sneak other small goblins out with him, and they likewise began to change. After this occurred for the better part of a year. The now not so young goblin and his crew ambushed the warriors with clubs and daggers that they had taken from their own nest and overthrew the current order in the goblin burrow. He had begun to see the writing on the wall that in time the orcish adventurers would find their home and they were in dire need of a change. The evolved goblins took everyone from the burrow and moved the entire clan into the crystal caverns.

Where they grew secluded from the world, The goblin who had stumbled upon this discovery and led his clan into a new era called himself Huron. As the years passed Huron and his fellow goblins began to mine and each goblin at birth was given a gem to wear as a necklace, some even crafted rings that held tiny gems. A whole new goblin society was birthed, and they sent out envoys to the surrounding villages. Some were chased away while others were welcomed. The majority of the surroundings villages had been orc villages, and they had little problem with the evolved goblins once they proved themselves to not be the goblins that had stopped raiding them years ago.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Huron, would go on to become quite the famous jewel crafter."

The storyteller moved his majestic beard aside and allowed the crowd to see the shining ocean blue crystal that hung from a gold chain around his neck.

"Matter of fact this enchanted necklace and many others like it prevented a plague that had threatened to wipe out part of that realm."

The Storyteller chuckled as he put the necklace back out of view.

"That however." He said with a grin. "Is a story for another time."

A New Day; Cozy Fantasy Village Life

Oh no. Please do. I ran it for my group once and it was amazing. I really want to be on the receiving end XD. Such a fun monster.

@Dragonydas

To be fair no one would even know for a while. So, for all we know there already IS a false Hydra. lol

A New Day; Cozy Fantasy Village Life

Whatever you do Xalt. Don't add the False Hydra to the monster list. This stardew rp will quickly turn into a horror story!

Stay Awhile and Listen.

Some of you might recognize the False Hydra from D&D. I had heard of it years ago but the YouTube gods recently reminded me of it with a recommendation.

youtube.com/watch?v=q85zE0JQamc

Enjoy! Feel free to include it in any of your stories as its quite a creepy monster when you look at what it can get away with.