Transience

Starless

@Blackbeard Entirely up to you. If you want the battle to seem drawn out and difficult, we can go as a back and forth; but if you wanted to display Khan's power and fell it in a single swoop, then I encourage such! The relative power of our heroes is really entirely down to differing writing styles, I am just taking the helm of a responsive environment :)

Starless

@Invisible You were using internet explorer..?

@Blackbeard Got to be inventive to take down this son-of-a-bitch. But the experience points will be through the roof!

Starless

@HarbringerAnd I give him a royal invitation, what more do you want from meeee?? D:

Anyway, after doing two of those silly big posts in one day, i'm going to try this new thing called a 'break' that is all the rage with the kids nowadays. I will return in probably, like, an hour, with a belly full of pizza and a brain likely entirely corrupted by the wonderful vice of this new beverage called 'vodka!'

*Flies into the distance*

Starless

P r i c i a

The chest itself was larger than most of its kind; many of which were used to contain the treasures of monasteries and castles and fortresses alike. But this, this was different, and Pricia would have been able to sense the anomaly in its presence. A devoted servant of Goethia was not to be denied aid, even long past the death of her celestial queen.
Running her fingers along the edge of the sealed, old oaken box would reveal to Pricia the great craftsmanship involved in creating such an object. Each carved figure was smoothed and sanded to an almost unnatural shine for a material as old as it was. Even the lock seemed to be complex and intricate, so much so that it was doubtful that even a master thief would have been able to decipher the complex mechanism within.
Despite the apparent complexity, the lock popped apart as Pricia leaned in to lift the heavy lid, as if by magic.
The inside of the chest was less exquisite than that of the exterior, instead of masterful carvings and inscriptions in a long lost tongue, it was simple wooden planks, row upon row. Nobody would marvel upon the inside of a chest when treasures would fill it.

In the bottom of the rather deep container were two things neatly placed side by side: an old sheet of parchment with inked scribbles almost entirely across its surface, and a dark, polished wooden stave with a complex arrangement of golden rings upon its head… The Staff of Nature’s Breath; something undoubtedly familiar to the young warrior legend.

The parchment was curious, and it spoke of the tale of a man not known by legend, but now lost to the world:

My name is Khavo the Grey, and I am a priest of Goethia, long standing servant of Her verdancy, follower and preacher of Her teachings, and keeper of Her monastery. I have spent my life dedicated to honouring the Queen of the Wilds; I was raised to be a man of the Gods, and it was she that showed me my path where others would not. Two decades I had spent spreading the word of my Queen’s eternal and bountiful kindness, and five decades have I spent in search of this artifact, carried by Goethia’s chosen herself; a holy weapon by any standard; touched by Pricia, the Beast of the Forest. I have been honoured to be a part of Goethia’s grand plan, and regret not my sacrifices in the interests of finding the staff: I have given much to procure it once more for Goethia; much worldly coin have I spent, and raise a family have I not. But the fire now grows dim, and darkness collects around me. My time upon Ansus is at an end, and I must give myself to the Merkstave before madness consumes me; before the whispering beyond the wall comes for me. This is my last account, the summation of my life. I pray that this staff at least remains in its rightful place for all time to come, for the world grows dark and cold, and my time is at an end. In honour of Goethia, I commend myself to her embrace. I hope that I have made her proud.

Quest Notes for Invisible

Looks like you found a very shiny toy! What fun you will have! And you even gave Khavo the Grey a proper burial because you are apparently lovely. But heed the warnings of his final account, you must decide whether it is safe to stay in such a place as this. Will you push further into the depths of the monastery, or will you make a hasty exit? In the case of the former, you may designate whatever room is beyond the thin pathways and I will adapt. In the case of the latter, you would then be free to make your way in any direction. Perhaps the nearby city of Losis will be able to provide you with some answers as to why you have been returned to this world?

As usual, feel free to take full control of any NPCs you encounter / create in whichever path you take. Again, in the case of the latter feel free to improvise the city if you come close.

K i ’ i r a

The apparent captain of the group of King’s Rangers was resolute in his goal to divulge as little info as possible to the fox-eared woman. When she asked where they were going, he simply replied ”The Capital,” and when she had asked if it was far, he did not even answer, rather giving a simple gesture of the hand that maybe meant it was a moderate distance from where they had found her. He even broke her a piece of bread and allowed her a pigskin of water upon her insistence on food and drink. But when she asked about the Gods… he did not say a word. He refused to even acknowledge the question. Perhaps such a response could have been interpreted to mean something far more sinister than the captain had intended.

The group marched Ki’ira for what must have felt like days upon days, through rain and shine, bitter winds, and mushy dirt underfoot. They crossed through puzzled forests that lacked any notion of a trail, and through rough, muddy waters. They passed outcrops of rocks and navigated through caves that were as dark as the deepest of nights. And all around, the world could be seen faltering like flames. The trees seemed to be lacking, canopies less full than they had once been. Trunks were withered and blacking against all logic, and the sunlight was chill at best; not bringing the warmth that it promised.

Before long, the Capital loomed on the horizon. The grand city of Kolantis sprawled in all directions almost as far as the eyes could see; nestled between the great Kolantic Mountains and the Sea of Khosis. The city spread from the seat of power carved into the mountain ridges all the way to the coastline, where a bustling port existed. Ships and boats of all shapes and sizes had been moored at the docks, and great lights kept all parts of the city illuminated through the night. Daylight had faded by the time the party had travelled down the long road toward the main gate: one of the few entrances through the thick mountain-stone walls. The gate guards, upon seeing the insignia of the King upon the rangers, immediately stood at ease and let the group pass into the confines of the city.

It was impressive by the standards of any other city in Ansus, despite the slightly squalorous conditions of the city limits: the rangers guided Ki’ira through the slums, past the open sewers and intimidating stares of embittered residents. Many peasants stopped in their tracks to stare down the rangers and the strange, fox-eared woman they held captive, though none made any attempt at instigating violence as they often did when presented with soldiers or nobles passing through their turf.
They had hurriedly left the city limits, and came unto the city proper within the hour; the buildings were clean and well constructed of stone and wood, and a dizzying array of alleyways crossed almost nonsensically through streets and roads which bustled with the clamour of daily life. Despite the night falling upon them, the city was lively and active. Merchants still hustled and struggled to sell wares from the markets, and hard-working men and women carried crates of supplies and food across the streets, dodging nobles riding on horseback and guards who perhaps relied a little too much on their authority. It would have been a marvellous sight for anybody of times past, for the city had only become the metropolis it was currently in the last few centuries.

Onward they pressed, deeper into the heart of the city. The captain pointed out to Ki’ira a particularly large building, one that dominated all others around, dwarfing them in its shadow. That was their destination; though the captain would not tell her the nature of the building.
As they approached, the city fell noticeably more silent than it had been in other areas. Here was much less of a bustling crowd, instead the clear, polished plaza was home only to nobles sauntering along, quietly conversing with one another in their trademarked, smug fashion. Approaching the columns of the gargantuan structure, the captain led Ki’ira inside.

Within was just as one would have expected: large, empty, echoing. Tiled floors polished and gleaming, columns lining the walls; supporting an elaborately crafted roof decorated with paintings from famous artists from years past. In the centre of the hall stood two knights, decorated even more elaborately than the rangers were. Gilded golden suits of steel plate covered them from head to toe, and beautiful forged steel blades dangled at their sides.

“My Lords,” exclaimed the ranger captain as they approached the Knights. “We have brought you the fugitive,”

The captain unclipped Ki’ira’s shackles and shoved her forward slightly, whilst stepping back himself as to put distance between himself, Ki’ira, and the Knights.

One of the Knights looked her up and down, and then looked her in the eyes through his heavy, full-covering helm.

“What is your name?” he demanded.

Quest Note for rivaan

Woah-ho-ho this is going to be interesting. What will you do? Comply or attempt an escape? Fight, or talk your way out of it? The Rangers are of course at your control for the sake of your next post, and the Knights are to a degree, but remember that they are incredibly stout individuals and will stick to their directive like glue. They will throw you into the dungeon if given the chance, but only temporarily while higher up individuals decide what to do with Ki’ira. If you were to make an escape attempt now, you could conceivably disappear into the sprawling city, which of course would be created as you go; improvise!

E l l a r i a n

Once he had made his way back into the safety of the fortress, and away from the bloodied walls, Ellarian was greeted by more than resounding cheers from the garrison of the fortress. Hearty hugs were exchanged between the soldiers, and grateful nods and thankful handshakes were given to the hero of the hour for his display of incredible valour in the field of battle. Without his guidance, the fortress surely would have fallen; but his tactical mind had won the day. The host of sub-men had been so badly stricken by the hellstone powder that they fully retreated into the wild lands beyond, leaving naught but bodies of their fallen and run down camps behind.

The captain approached Ellarian some minutes following his return from the walls, still in absolute astonishment at the ease with which the sub-men champion had been slain and made an example of. It was clear now to the captain why this mountain of a man that stood before him was so revered for so many years.

“Ellarian,” he said softly, not wanting to call the attention of all the soldiers who now looked up to him. “We must talk.”
With that, the captain led Ellarian through the passages of the fortress to the war-room, where the celebrations of the men could barely be heard. There was enough quiet there that the two could discuss matters in relative privacy, and without risking others overhearing them.

“When you awakened, it was decided that… That word of your return be sent to the Capital. A messenger bird was dispatched to Kolantis informing them of your appearance. At first we thought that it would be seen as, well, little more than a hoax, but one of the work details just informed me that we have had a response,”

The captain didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the fact sink in for Ellarian.

“The King humbly requests your presence at the Royal Palace in Kolantis. I think he wishes to speak with you personally.”

Quest Note for harbinger

ROYAL INVITATION! Consider that a win. You can decide whether or not to accept the invitation; though accepting it will give you access to an escort of soldiers (not that you would need it!) on the long road South to the Capital of Kolantis. It is a pretty long way, though, and journeying through the land would probably take time. It would be reasonable to assume that you could make it half way in one of your posts (at which point I would dump another event on you). However, you are under no obligation to actually go and see the King, and you could go somewhere of your own accord, or even stay at the fortress and try to learn more about what is going on. As always, NPCs are under your control, and you can designate any events or goings on in your post.

N o r c o K h a n

Norco Khan’s voice echoes through the valley for a moment, like the sound of thunder bouncing between mountains. But once it had subsided into the snow, silence reigned once more as his kin bore their weapons, slowly and cautiously moving into the shadow…

”Yes!” interjected the ‘Chief’, ”We will have your head!” he said, mimicking Norco’s inflection almost perfectly. It was as though he were trying to be like him…

The rest of the group looked back at him with some semblance of frustration, clearly growing agitated of his ruthless compensation for the presence of the Wolf King, before turning back to crawl into the shadow of the cave.

There was an unusually high pitched screech, and from the cave a beast lashed forward. With a snout encrusted with what seemed to be crystals of ice, and thick, cold vapour spewing from nostrils, a dragon attempted to bite one of the men in half. The sudden attack was met with each man jumping backwards as fast as possible, before looking to each other in confusion once the fearsome jaw had retreated back into the darkness.

“It- it’s so small,” said the youngest among them.

”No… No,” started one of the elder hunters. ”Hatchlings! Hatchlings!” he screamed, inciting each man to immediately disperse and seek cover, as another high pitched screech was met with the deafening roar of a much deeper one, and a shadow carried on a gust of freezing wind swept overhead.

The mother dragon, upon hearing the distress call of its young, swooped from high above the clouds. The beast was enormous, at least a hundred feet long, and bearing massive wings that served to blot the cold sun from overhead. It appeared far more fearsome than the hatchling, and was far more adept at killing. It immediately landed with a sizeable thud, directly atop the youngest hunter, who, following a scream of agony as his entire chest was shattered under the weight, was ripped apart with a single strike from the powerful jaws of the dragon.

The rest of the hunters roared and wailed, not understanding why one so young must be lost so suddenly, before a misty cone of frostfire was unleashed upon another two hunters who had tried to seek asylum behind a particularly large rock some distance away. Their cover served them no purpose, however, and both men’s blood turned to ice in their veins. Their skin drained into a ghostly blue hue, and they died before they could even exclaim about the unimaginable pain they had surely felt in those moments of death.

The dragon let loose mighty battlecry to the sky, before turning its attention to the Wolf King, who stood undeterred, in the face of such a fearsome foe…

Quest Note for Blackbeard

You don’t even need quest notes here. Kill that thing, and kill it hard! It is under your control, as are the remaining hunters. Upon a victory, the hatchlings will likely scatter, and the cave can be entered unassailed. Within, you will find the Dragon’s treasure, with your weapon amongst the loot.

A l t i m

The boy’s father’s eyes opened wider than they had ever done so before, as this strange, wise man had turned and burned a symbol into the ground with little more than a thought. That kind of power… did not come around often, if at all, and was reserved for tales and myths of legendary heroes past. And he had said that Faerthus had blessed him…? Such a collection of facts sounded familiar to the man.
A bard. Wise and noble. Magical. Blessed of Faerthus…?

”Oh my- oh. Oh shit,” he exclaimed as his brain finally made sense of what he was seeing. ”Al- Altim..?” he asked, though Altim was too far now for him to hear; so the man just stood there in shock, staring along the path, shaking slightly with astonishment.

Deep down, he knew Altim was right. And given the knowledge of the man’s true identity, he knew he could not go against his advice and continue with his plan. He quickly gathered up his soon-to-be accomplices and explained to them what had happened, and explained to them why they could not go through with such a scheme. They were unconvinced, but deterred.

But through the ruckus and the confusion, Daither, the man’s child, had once more slipped from the confines of his home. This time, however, he ran not in fear, but in pursuit of a man who had influenced him so. Silently, he bolted along the beaten pathway, the same direction in which Altim had gone.

---

A few hours were all that were needed for Altim to reach the Bastion by foot, for he was not far, and it could be seen for miles upon miles, all around. As he drew closer, the bastion seemed to grow taller, stretching into the sky like a great stone finger scratching the clouds. The years did not seem to belittle the bastion as they did with other buildings in Ansus; it was just as beautiful as any could remember. It was most exquisite and beautiful, a true gift from Humans to Gods. A work so grand that nothing of its ilk would be built again in Ansus for over sixty thousand years. But despite outward appearances, the bastion was not entirely as it was in past millennia, for the Great Fire in the highest chamber was now dark, and failed to radiate its famous glow across the Heartlands.

As Altim would approach the clearing, the God Guards who stood eternal watch over the bastion brought themselves to arms, readying themselves in case of an assailant.

”Traveller!” one cried, making his voice heard from the distance. The two guards began to move closer to Altim, cautiously, but at pace. ”What is your purpose here?”

Quest Note for ravenDivinity

Time to convince a guard or two to let you in to the archives! Naturally, full NPC control is yours! And remember that Daither has made the decision to try to follow you because he was so inspired by your encounter. You can have him come in during your next post or not if you so choose; he will be around at some point, either way.
If you convince the guards to let you in (or find another way inside), the relic archive can be found on the same level as the Great Fire, which can be reached by a huge, winding staircase. The violin can be found inside.

Starless

@ravenDivinity Sure is, i'll have something up soon!

@Harbringer Because you've never been in a roleplay GM'd by me before, obviously ;D But don't worry, i'd never throw anything at Ellarian that I didn't think he could handle. Nope. Not me. Not my style. ;)

Starless

@Harbringer nvr.

Starless

@BlackbeardExcellent, excellent. Are you ready to murderise a goddamn dragon?

How many other RP's let you do this so early on? ;D

Starless

@BlackbeardYou know me! Characterisation is the name of my game. Developing any NPCs is a big plus in my mind!

@Harbringer That post made my day. Such beautiful violence. Such gore. Remind me to go harder on you, you tough-ass cookie.

Starless

@Blackbeard Oh no, I can keep up with whatever pace. Don't ever hold back on my account, I am just making the most of the situation at hand! :) Post as much as you need and I will match you.

@rivaan I always assumed that the 'fox' goddess was an alias, of sorts. As though the fox were a symbol for Vinsha, and she was actually born the trickster goddess.

Starless

A l t i m

“What?” came a voice. “Wh-what? Who is there?” came a fairly gruff, aggressive voice, framed with a slight hint of worry. “Who is that?” it seemed to ask another person.

“I don’t know,” came a muffled female voice. “Go and check! What if it is him?”

“Gods I hope so,” exclaimed the male voice.

After the sound of heavy approaching footsteps, the door flung open in front of Altim, Daither at his side, hiding somewhat behind the legend, tightly gripping his tunic.
The man who opened the door stood blankly for a second, his mind taking a moment to process exactly what he was seeing. His dark eyes seemed to tick like a clockwork machine driving cogs, and his thick, voluptuous lips quivered as he began to realise what was happening.

“Daither!” he shouted! “Gods, you’re okay! We have been worried sick!”

Before the boy or Altim could even begin to respond, the man was already ecstatic.

“Martha! Martha, it’s Daither!” he called back into the small house, and the female voice responded almost immediately.

“Oh Gods!” she cried, her voice somewhat muffled by her distance. This was immediately followed by the sound of running footsteps and sure enough she was at the door before long, practically in tears. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “We have been so worried!”

Daither looked at the man he had come to know as Mitlamai, finding an unexpected and newfound strength in the short time they had shared together –a strength that was surely the work of somebody imbued with the very wisdom of the Gods themselves. The boy stepped in front of Altim, finding the courage to let loose his tunic. He breathed in deep, puffing his chest as a sign of strength, and without hesitation made his feelings very clear.

“Ma,” he said. “Pa, I don’t wanna’ be a soldier.”

“Daither… look-“ said the father in response. “All the boys in the village are going to become soldiers. I was a soldier. My father was a soldier. That is just how it works around here. You would be making your mother and I very proud,”

Daither looked to Altim for strength, finding it in his deep, mystical eyes.

“But Pa!” he pleaded. “If you were worried sick from me runnin’ away into the forest, why would you want me to be sent off ta’ fight?”
The boy’s father had no response. He just looked at his wife with an expression of defeat and understanding. He had a point. Both parents knew it.

“Remember this,” said the boy, mimicking perfectly the words he had heard before. “Altim's wisdom wasn’t realised through sub-subservience. He pursued ‘is dream without putting enmity between ‘imself and ‘is elders. I wanna’ tell stories, and I wanna’ sing!”

He looked up to Altim and smiled. “Ma, Pa, this is Mitlamai,” he continued, gesturing to Altim. “He saved me in the forest!”

The father looked Altim up and down and nodded.

“Go inside, Daither. Him and I need to have a chat,”

Daither looked to Altim once more, and hurried inside. His eyes told of all the thanks he could give for his help.
The father stepped from the confines of his home and shut the door softly behind him. He came close to Altim, close enough that he would have almost been able to feel the breath upon his neck.

“Mitlamai, is it?” he asked softly. “You seem like… well, an interesting type. A travelling bard?” The father continued to look Altim up and down. “You seem like the trustworthy type. I don’t know why, but I like you. You must be blessed by the Gods or somethin’.”

The father finally stepped away, giving Altim some breathing room.

“Ya’ know, i’ve heard rumours that the Great Fire up in the Bastion has gone out. Put out by a great wind, I heard. The God Guard legion is going crazy trying to figure out how it could have been put out like that after sixty thousand years,” he shook his head.
“Look, point is, the guards are all goin’ loopy trying to figure out a way to fix it. For the first time in forever they’re distracted. And you know, i’ve heard some serious stories about the kind of things in there. You could live like a King for the rest of your life off of some of the artifacts in there.
Anyway, to the point. Me and a few of the boys where thinkin’ that maybe we could get in there, take a few of the treasures for ourselves. We could finally get out of this village. We could get into the city and we’d never have to work again. I’m thinkin’ maybe you want in on it, eh? A cut of the profits? Because we need somebody to distract the guards and, for some reason, I trust you. I think they will too.”

Quest Notes for ravenDivinity

Moral dilemma time! You have the option here of joining the father and his comrades in attempting to steal relics from the Bastion (hopefully you can find the violin there!) or you can attempt to go it alone in a more legal fashion. Feel free to take control of the NPCs as you see fit in either situation. Though in the case of the former, being captured would surely be very, very bad. Though it could also prove very lucrative. Who can say if the guards would actually let you in on your own merits. Hmm. And hey, you can always kill an NPC where you see fit. Totally free form!

P r i c i a

The monastery was not as Pricia would have remembered it. What was once verdant and alive was now little more than crumbled, dilapidated ruins of its former glory. As with a lot of things from her lifetime, time had taken its toll. But that was to be expected; far more disturbing things lay within the puzzled disrepair of stone and vine. Within was little more than an unnatural umbra, a darkness so completely encompassing that not even the brightest of lights would have been able to illuminate the path against the inky, sticky blackness. Footsteps would fall, and even their echo would be consumed by shadow in a way that should not have been possible. This was not shadow of the corporeal world, but something else entirely.

Deep within the ruins, once where a great fire used to burn in honour of Goethia was now a carbonised stain upon the uneven rock floor. Above was the gently swaying body of the Priest who tended the flame. Once proud and dedicated to his goddess, but now hung from the creaking monastery ceiling by a wiry thin rope that had frayed and crusted from years of decay. Whether he inflicted such a fate upon himself was unclear. Perhaps he was driven to madness? Or perhaps he simply needed to flee from a foe that could not be outrun.

The central chamber of the monastery, whilst remaining relatively unchanged from how Pricia would have remembered it, was illuminated solely by a single shaft of thin light trickling through a minuscule crack in the natural rock formation that supported the old carved structure. At the far end of the room was a chest embroiled with silver, with beautiful carvings upon its wooden surface of heroic acts and depictions of the unyielding force of nature. Beyond that were two pathways, both winding and seemingly impossibly thin. Too small for any human to fit through… But not too small for a follower of Goethia bearing the Mark of the Wild…

But such thoughts would have to wait. A sound could be heard deep from one of the pathways. It was like the sound of bones grinding on bones, and a ghostly murmuring accompanied it. From the darkness emerged two creatures, tall and spindly. In the shadow they would be hard to make out, but as they raised themselves to full height after squeezing through the tiny crawlspaces, it became apparent what made itself known. Two skeletal creatures, with skulls deformed to look like they were grinning with evil delight, began to prowl, circling the room. Empty eyes locked upon a creature of the flesh that had entered the monastery after so many years of silence.
Bearing armaments of jagged bone, they snarled and squealed. Somehow.

It was time for them to bloody their weapons once more.

Quest Notes for Invisible

Oh yes, it’s combat time. You are free to take control of and wipe the skeletons as you see fit, you are, after all, a hero of legend. You can choose to fight or flee, whichever seems more appropriate for Pricia. Upon a victory, you are free to explore the monastery. Will you cut down the priest, perhaps? Will you open the chest? Maybe you will find out what is on the other side of those tunnels. It is all down to you. Get killing.

K i ’ i r a

Nothing.

There was nothing beyond the small hill. Save for the cold remains of a camp that had been abandoned days ago and more hills rolling into the horizon, and a thick line of trees sprawling into the distance in every other direction. Ki’ira had followed the map perfectly; to the letter, in fact. But there was nothing: A few torn down tents and a few empty barrels exempt. But there certainly was nothing to drink. The rain had truly begun to settle in, and the thick must of petrichor had filled the air for some time. The heavy pitter patter of droplets upon the ground had become almost deafening, undoubtedly so for one whose hearing was as honed as Ki’ira’s. Her newfound clothes were to become sodden and waterlogged in no time at all, though it would hardly matter for one who could conjure flames at will. It was a grim, depressing situation, and would be for anybody stricken by such.
In the distance, thunder had begun to crack, and distant bolts of lighting illuminated the horizon in scintillating waves through the thick far-fog that had washed in from the ocean, like streams of fireflies weaving through smoke.

For a moment, through a brief interlude in the thunderous roaring, Ki’ira would have been able to discern a sound in the distance; one that sounded distinctly… human.
From the treeline emerged a host of robed figures, hooded and acting with purpose. They seemed to be more capable than the bandits Ki’ira had relieved of their clothes some days prior; as they wielded not knives but masterfully crafted bows with savage arrows knocked. Beneath their dulled green cloaks was the timeless crest of the royal family upon chainmail and padded leather. They were men of the King.

“Halt!” one shouted at her, struggling to make his voice heard above the storm.

There would have been ten rangers at a glance, all armed, and all with their weapons ready to fire upon their target should any sudden moves be made.

“By order of the King, you are to relinquish whatever arms you may be carrying and submit. You have been charged with theft and intimidation!”

Quest Note for rivaan

You are totally being arrested. Looks like the bandits decided to report you after all! You can either submit and be taken willingly to the nearest city for *ahem* imprisonment, you can fight (which will be interesting given the number of arrows ready to fire), or you can flee. As always, you maintain full NPC control during your response. Respond how you see fit.

V o l k i m i r

The morning suns would rise in a few hours. Despite the heavy storms that were wracking the heartlands, it was still summer and the days were still long. However, the morning would only bring unrest for the hamlet which had been visited by the Mortifier that night; for one of the village’s own was found upon the outskirts, entirely eviscerated, and being feasted upon by a pack of hungering wolves. The body was near unrecognisable, and the amount of blood staining the ground was remarkable for the handiwork of even a wolf pack.
The man’s family shed their tears for the loss, but thought nothing of it beyond a freak accident of the night. They suspected nothing…

The city of Ghora was still a night’s trek away for Volkimir, who would have been able to see the settlement in the basin of the valley he would be travelling down. The city lights were an astonishing sight from afar for anybody with the luck to venture into the wilderness beyond it to catch such a legendary glimpse. The city was contained within a large palisade to keep out the wolves and the bandits, but otherwise did not have many other defences with the exception of lightly manned guard towers at regular intervals across the palisade so that a watch could be kept through the night. The city itself, however, was a wonder of taverns and brothels and dirt roads that criss-crossed one another. It was the perfect city for one to blend and get their bearings…

But the road toward the city was still long, and while Volkimir undoubtedly did not fear the hunger of wildlife, extra patrols of guards had come back and forth between Ghora and the hamlet the past night in response to the aggressive nature of the wolf attack the night before.

Quest Note for Dead Cruiser

Ghora is in sight! But the remaining road is being heavily patrolled by guards in an attempt by the city to cull the wolf population following the events of your killing. You could probably sneak by a patrol, or you could kill them; doesn’t matter to me. Just beware of your actions and their repercussions. Once your reach Ghora (I assume in your next post) you could either try your hand at convincing the gate guards (NPCs under your control) to let you in, you could sneak over an unwatched region of palisade, or you could even fight your way in, but that would cause some serious unrest unless done reeeeaaaalllly sneaky-like. Once inside, however, you can go mad and get into some taverns or brothels. I know you’d have fun. Get your bearings. I have big plans for you.

E l l a r i a n

Who was the captain to argue? It was actually rather ingenious. Using the unshattered hellstones against their enemy? It was becoming more and more obvious to the captain why Ellarian was revered so, even if he detected that the legendary soldier perhaps was not pleased with his newfound role of hero. It took mere minutes for him to inspire the men, something that the captain was not capable of doing after just the first day of the siege; the men were just too weary; too broken. But Ellarian inspired something deep within them, and their newfound energy was almost palpable in the air.
It didn’t take the captain long to instruct the work detail to gather all the hellstones that had been laying upon the walls for days on end like ticking time bombs. The captain did not know what Ellarian was planning, but he had a fairly good idea.

The afternoon sunlight soon began to fade as the two suns began to fall into the horizon. The light from the Rings of the World instead took prominence, changing the sands from a blazing yellow to a mystical blueish white; like magical snow littering the dunes. It was almost an entirely different world. The sand cats had gone silent, and were replaced by the beckoning war-howls of the sub-men below who were preparing themselves for another night’s slaughter. Campfires sprung into being all along the war host, and the clamour of crude iron blades could be faintly heard amongst the barbaric screams and bloodthirsty taunts.
The seven hundred men that Ellarian had rallied were already assembled by the main gate. Some of the men were visibly shaken, but others were enthused by the presence of Ellarian, whom the captain met beside the battle group. Behind the captain trotted up three fortress workers, each carrying a full sack of the hellish white stones.

“Good evening, my l- sir,” he bowed ever so slightly, before remembering that Ellarian expressed a slight discontentedness at such behaviour. “We managed to recover about seventy hellstones from the walls. Gods I hope your plan works,” he exclaimed, as the distinct sound of charging feet could be heard through the thick stone walls, matched with a battle cry that was decidedly different from the one that had been wailed for the last hour.

“The assault has begun…”

Quest Note for harbinger

The battle has begun! I’m sure you know exactly what to do! Kill as many enemies as you see fit and take control of your men. This is sure to be awesome. Big plans await upon the outcome!