Vigfast

Starless

I should have some time to post tonight, managed to fall asleep at 18.30 last night.

Starless

I feel as though the Green Knight and the Dark Prince may have shared an enemy at a time. Perhaps something can be arranged?

@Dead Cruiser

Definitely, they certainly have a similar obsession with killing all manner of undead.

It might provide some interesting answers as well as to how the two can or might get along, considering one is an undead vampire and the other a knight tasked with slaying unnatural creatures.

Randomly brainstorming, perhaps, if they've fought a common foe there is some level of respect (something like, technically the Green Knight would simply try to slay the ancient vampire, but given evidence of his "goodness" perhaps he's willing to let it slide).

Feel free to send me a PM if you have some ideas, just so we don't kill the thread with back and forth ideas.

---------

Edit: I extend the same offer to anyone else, the Green Knight's travels have assuredly seem him encounter many a hero over the ages.

Starless

@Vigfast Accepted for obvious reasons. Get that knight all up in the character tab. And then get him all up in the IC.

@Transience

Awesome!

Ah, wow, I'm falling behind! I'll have my intro post up tonight.

@Corvidae

Fear not, for I am even further behind (just posted my CS in the character tab).

Starless

The Green Knight

"But if thou art so bold as all men say, thou wilt grant me in goodly wise the games I ask."

The Green Knight

N A M E / A L I A S

Sir Otto Oddmund Ormsson (though his name has long since been forgotten), instead he is known as simply as the Green Knight.

M Y T H O L O G Y

The Green Knight by Harald Silvertongue

Inside the Golden Boar Tavern, the fire roared pleasantly, the ale flowed freely, and most of the village sat gathered in a circle around a grizzled old man dressed in shades of blue and green. Across his lap rested a well-worn lute and a foppish hat sat precariously his head, threatening rebellion in a quick flight to the soiled floor. Brazenly disinterested in the occasional glances of the townsfolk, the old man slowly, almost lazily nursed his tankard of ale. Only when he was sure that the he had the attention of the entire tavern, did the strange fellow finish the last of his ale. With a sudden start, he slammed the empty tankard on a nearby table, replacing it with his lute as he rose to his feet and released an unceremonious belch to the laughter of several children sitting nearby.

"Now, as I’ve said,” he began, offering the smile of a born performer. "I am the legendary bard, Harald Silvertongue," applause followed, and the old man removed his hat, offering a quick flourish and a profoundly alarming stumble in the direction of the fireplace. “Tonight my dear friends, let me regale you with the legendary tale of the Green Knight."

Strumming his lute haphazardly to set the stage, Harald returned to his chair, threatening for a moment to destroy the simple wooden object with his significant weight alone (food and drink were his preferred vices). With a nod of his heavy head and a tap-tap of his right foot, he began to speak in the slow, musical manner of a master bard, "The chosen of Tavra, they called him, for the goddess herself had seen fit to bless him with her many gifts. Yet once, once he was but a man of flesh and blood like you and I. A Nalmorian noble was he, the first son of an ancient house with roots in the once great city of Tarakor."

"No greedy nobleman was he, nay, but rather a brave knight, who had won his spurs on the fields of Ardare, and spent the better part of a decade fighting against the Ferothian invaders. After the war was finished, he returned to Nalmar a hero, and was given a vast swath of land by the grateful king to call his own. Tarva, the goddess of nature, was herself so pleased with his valor, that she shared a spark of her divinity with him and tasked him with guarding the endless forests that surrounded the Kingdom of Nalmar."

"Yet, he did not stay in Nalmar, for in those days the gods still walked among us and their champions traveled across the lands doing great deeds. The Green Knight was no exception and he was seen all throughout the realms, marching ever onwards. They say that he challenged all who crossed his path, testing their gifts in the arts of war, and judging whether they were worthy heroes or villains in disguise. The stuff of legends, I say to you, truly, those duels were such, but but alas, it would take the better part of a week for me to do it justice, so for now, I ask that you simply take my word for it," the bard said with a wink and a calming wave of his hands.

Tapping his lute dramatically, Harald graced the audience with a select bit of quality lutemanship, properly setting the mood for the more dramatic part of the story,"A life of strife and hardship was his, years of endless warfare were his, years spent fending off challengers were his and years of endless wandering were all he knew. However, the true test of the Green Knight would come with the rise of the necromancer Ustga and the darkness that followed in the corrupt wizard’s wake."

The old bard practically jumped to his feet, menacingly raising his arms wide as he stood to his respectable full height. When he spoke, his eyes had grown dark and his voice carried a new sense of menace, sending several of the younger children retreating to their mothers, eyes wide with fear. "A blight spread across the lands, entire villages succumbed to disease, and hordes of undead razed cities to the ground, all at behest of their foul master. Many heroes answered the desperate calls for help that followed, but all met their end without success."

The old man paused seizing up the audience with a cruel grin and a forced cough. Showing a great amount of patience and cunning he waited until a patron waved a coin in the direction of the barmaid, who quickly provided the bard with another tankard of ale. "Thank you, my throat was a bit parched," he began, before downing a respectable quantity of ale with obvious pleasure. "Now…where was I? Ah yes, terrible times, death and the undead."

Replacing the tankard of ale on the table, the old man strummed his lute, playing the well-known first refrain of a tragic ballad whose name and verses none still knew. "Filled with fury the gods were, for the balance had been broken, and no mortal man, not even a wizard had the right to go so far. Yet, none was more furious than the goddess of nature, for Tavra abhors all that is unnatural and wrong."

The silence that filled the tavern hall, beside himself of course, pleased the old bard, and he relished in the rapt attention of his audience before continuing. "Lamenting the foolish pride of Ustga and the corruption that he spread across the realms, the goddess walked the lands in the guise of a mortal, doing all that she could to stem the tide of cruel death. Traveling across the lands, she sought the aid of all the great heroes that did still draw breath. Yet, the hearts of men, even great men, were filled with fear when faced with the monsters of the abyss and those precious few that still had courage were scattered as if by the wind, fighting endless numbers of creatures beyond the grasp of death"

"In the end, it thus came to pass, that it was only the Green Knight who answered her call. Alone, did the knight face Ustga and his undead horde in battle, near the jeweled city of Estmor, in the heart of winter, when darkness still commanded the months. Surrounded was he, Tavra’s champion, outnumbered was he, the stalwart soldier. Death loomed over him and his fate seemed sealed."

A series of anxious gasps echoed across the tavern and Harald grinned, silently congratulating himself on his talent, before resuming his role with a most grave nod, "A hard battle took place, in which many hard blows were dealt and returned; but it ended by the death of Ustga and his dark tower fell, reduced to rubble."

Loud cheers erupted, and children happily clapped their hands together, certain that a happy ending was well in sight. Harald, himself, had never been convinced by the most popular versions of the tale, which ended with the Green Knight at peace, rewarded for his duty. Alas, Harald was but the messenger, and he knew that he had no choice to obey the simpleminded desires of his audience.

"Having slain the foul necromancer and ended the blight, the Green Knight returned once more to the wilderness. Some say that he lived his remaining years in peace, dying a peaceful death in the forest he guarded at the impressive age of two hundred and fifty years. Others claim that the valiant knight suffered a mortal blow in the battle against Ustga and that his story ends with his noble death."

"Yet friends, I say to you with certainty, none of these other stories are true. No, for the Green Knight did not cease his wandering, he did not quietly slip into the silent darkness of the void. He has remained vigilant for all these thousands of years, he has not forgotten us, he still lives! Seek him out and if you are worthy you will find him and see that he is as real as I."

Accompanied by applause and a series of rousing cheers, the ancient bard bowed deeply and holding out his hat, he collected a sizable number of coins from the audience. It took all his skill as a performer to keep from sneering with disgust. What fools, what hopeless dreamers it was he faced, happily believing that some long dead hero still protected them. Now of course, Harald considered himself a learned man, he had heard of the sightings of the Green Knights by the common folk and he had read the writings of less distantly dead men that spoke of encountering a strange knight armored in green. It amazed the cynical bard sometimes what fiction the desperate mind could create.

"What was his name?" A young boy asked with grave concern as he dropped a coin in the hat of the grizzled bard, interrupting Harald in the midst of his blissful contemplation.

Harald Silvertongue laughed and spoke with a smirk on his face, "Boy, only the gods still know his name, and they don’t speak much these days. At least not to the likes of me!" With a final swig from his tankard of ale and a burst of laughter that seemed to shake the very wooden beams that supported the thatched roof of the humble tavern, the old bard strolled out into the night, smiling quietly to himself as he felt the newfound heaviness of his hat.

A P P E A R A N C E

"In the ancient stories the Green Knight is depicted as a giant of a man, a towering figure adorned with armor of metal and wood, his face always hidden beneath a great helm decorated with the antlers of a strange beast. The grim sword Foebane he ever wielded, the bringer of death to all manner of unnatural creatures."

- Harald Silvertongue, the famed Bard of the North, in the year of our Lord 1015.

"At the behest of the king and with little ceremony the Green Knight removed his helm. His black hair was long and ragged, reaching to his shoulders, his beard equally unkempt and the man seemed to have lost himself to the wilderness. Calm green eyes looked at our party with only a polite hint of amusement, lingering on each of us as if in judgment, and a broad mouth shifted into a modest, disarming smile. His noble features and the antiquated, exceedingly formal manner in which he spoke led me to believe that he must have been a member of one of the ancient Nalmorian houses."

- statements made by the legendary bard Perdan Goldenlute to the Alundo, royal scribe of the Kingdom of Telrov, year unkown.

A B I L I T I E S / E Q U I P M E N T

Abilities

"Like many mythical heroes, the Green Knight was favored by the gods themselves and Tavra, goddess of nature, was said to have given him great gifts of power so that he could do her will and restore balance to the lands."

- Enin the Priest, "On Gods and Men", year unknown.

" The favored servant of Tavra, the Green Knight was the recipient of a number of her boons:

The Gift of the Sun - The tales of old make bold claims, many suggest that the Green Knight had learned to be as patient as the ancient trees of the Nalmorian forest, no longer just a man, needing naught but the sun and rain to sustain himself.

The Will of the Forest - Unmoved by danger, impervious to the bite of blades, uninterested in the stab of spears and uncaring of the kiss of arrows, the Green Knight was as indomitable as nature, marching ever onwards.

Mastery of the Forest - Blessed with a divine spark from Tavra, the Green Knight was said to be one with the forest. The oldest ballads sing of his ability to create all manner of plants as if from the empty air, to shape even the mightiest of oaks in accordance with his will, and like his master to move unimpeded through the forests by man or beast."

- The Arch-Mage Yerlo, "The Might of the Heroes", year unknown

Arms and Armor

"The Green Knight was said to carry three mighty weapons:

The Bow of Swift Justice - A massive bow made of stout wood and covered with moss, uncannily accurate and possessing a silent bite that few beings could survive. Although the Green Knight could use the bow with ease, legend says that only one granted the favor of the knight himself could draw back the string of the bow even halfway.

The Heartwood Spear - A heavy spear carved entirely out of ancient oak and dressed in dark green vines. The spear was said to stand taller than even the Great Knight himself and was adorned with a leaf-shaped spearhead, fashioned from a piece of dark wood, perfectly smooth to the touch. Far stronger than steel, the remarkable spear bristled with arcane energies. Affixed just below the spearhead was a simple yellow banner, referred to by bards as the "Banner of Tavra."

The Sword Foebane - A grim, two handed blade, forged by Tavra with one purpose in mind, to restore the balance of nature. Far too large for any normal man to wield, the longsword was said to bring instant death to the unnatural beings which plagued the lands. Nonetheless, it is a beautiful weapon, inlaid with intricate patters of silver that seem to mimic the branches and leaves of a tree, with the hilt of the legendary sword forming the stem and roots.

Oaken Armor - In all the stories, even the most ancient, the Green Knight is described as wearing a green robe and a strange set of armor crafted out of a wood and metal. No mortal smith could have forged the steel just so, nor could the finest carpenters in all of Nalmor have bent the wood in such a manner. The exceptional armor was capable of absorbing great blows and it was said that it allowed the Green Knight to weather even the worst of storms."

- Jeyro the scribe, "The Arms and Armor of Legendary Knights", year unknown.

A G E O F L E G E N D

The Green Knight belongs to some of the oldest ages of Ansus and while his story has not been forgotten, the true man, has been buried beneath thousands of years of legend.

Starless

So, I've polished my CS and changed things up a bit (in regards to technique), I hope the general "bard telling the story of the Green Knight" thing works at least somewhat well and doesn't get annoying by the second paragraph.

The Green Knight

The Green Knight

"But if thou art so bold as all men say, thou wilt grant me in goodly wise the games I ask."

The Green Knight

N A M E / A L I A S

Sir Otto Oddmund Ormsson (though his name has long since been forgotten), instead he is known as simply as the Green Knight.

M Y T H O L O G Y

The Green Knight by Harald Silvertongue

Inside the Golden Boar Tavern, the fire roared pleasantly, the ale flowed freely, and most of the village sat gathered in a circle around a grizzled old man dressed in shades of blue and green. Across his lap rested a well-worn lute and a foppish hat sat precariously his head, threatening rebellion in a quick flight to the soiled floor. Brazenly disinterested in the occasional glances of the townsfolk, the old man slowly, almost lazily nursed his tankard of ale. Only when he was sure that the he had the attention of the entire tavern, did the strange fellow finish the last of his ale. With a sudden start, he slammed the empty tankard on a nearby table, replacing it with his lute as he rose to his feet and released an unceremonious belch to the laughter of several children sitting nearby.

"Now, as I’ve said,” he began, offering the smile of a born performer. "I am the legendary bard, Harald Silvertongue," applause followed, and the old man removed his hat, offering a quick flourish and a profoundly alarming stumble in the direction of the fireplace. “Tonight my dear friends, let me regale you with the legendary tale of the Green Knight."

Strumming his lute haphazardly to set the stage, Harald returned to his chair, threatening for a moment to destroy the simple wooden object with his significant weight alone (food and drink were his preferred vices). With a nod of his heavy head and a tap-tap of his right foot, he began to speak in the slow, musical manner of a master bard, "The chosen of Tavra, they called him, for the goddess herself had seen fit to bless him with her many gifts. Yet once, once he was but a man of flesh and blood like you and I. A Nalmorian noble was he, the first son of an ancient house with roots in the once great city of Tarakor."

"No greedy nobleman was he, nay, but rather a brave knight, who had won his spurs on the fields of Ardare, and spent the better part of a decade fighting against the Ferothian invaders. After the war was finished, he returned to Nalmar a hero, and was given a vast swath of land by the grateful king to call his own. Tarva, the goddess of nature, was herself so pleased with his valor, that she shared a spark of her divinity with him and tasked him with guarding the endless forests that surrounded the Kingdom of Nalmar."

"Yet, he did not stay in Nalmar, for in those days the gods still walked among us and their champions traveled across the lands doing great deeds. The Green Knight was no exception and he was seen all throughout the realms, marching ever onwards. They say that he challenged all who crossed his path, testing their gifts in the arts of war, and judging whether they were worthy heroes or villains in disguise. The stuff of legends, I say to you, truly, those duels were such, but but alas, it would take the better part of a week for me to do it justice, so for now, I ask that you simply take my word for it," the bard said with a wink and a calming wave of his hands.

Tapping his lute dramatically, Harald graced the audience with a select bit of quality lutemanship, properly setting the mood for the more dramatic part of the story,"A life of strife and hardship was his, years of endless warfare were his, years spent fending off challengers were his and years of endless wandering were all he knew. However, the true test of the Green Knight would come with the rise of the necromancer Ustga and the darkness that followed in the corrupt wizard’s wake."

The old bard practically jumped to his feet, menacingly raising his arms wide as he stood to his respectable full height. When he spoke, his eyes had grown dark and his voice carried a new sense of menace, sending several of the younger children retreating to their mothers, eyes wide with fear. "A blight spread across the lands, entire villages succumbed to disease, and hordes of undead razed cities to the ground, all at behest of their foul master. Many heroes answered the desperate calls for help that followed, but all met their end without success."

The old man paused seizing up the audience with a cruel grin and a forced cough. Showing a great amount of patience and cunning he waited until a patron waved a coin in the direction of the barmaid, who quickly provided the bard with another tankard of ale. "Thank you, my throat was a bit parched," he began, before downing a respectable quantity of ale with obvious pleasure. "Now…where was I? Ah yes, terrible times, death and the undead."

Replacing the tankard of ale on the table, the old man strummed his lute, playing the well-known first refrain of a tragic ballad whose name and verses none still knew. "Filled with fury the gods were, for the balance had been broken, and no mortal man, not even a wizard had the right to go so far. Yet, none was more furious than the goddess of nature, for Tavra abhors all that is unnatural and wrong."

The silence that filled the tavern hall, beside himself of course, pleased the old bard, and he relished in the rapt attention of his audience before continuing. "Lamenting the foolish pride of Ustga and the corruption that he spread across the realms, the goddess walked the lands in the guise of a mortal, doing all that she could to stem the tide of cruel death. Traveling across the lands, she sought the aid of all the great heroes that did still draw breath. Yet, the hearts of men, even great men, were filled with fear when faced with the monsters of the abyss and those precious few that still had courage were scattered as if by the wind, fighting endless numbers of creatures beyond the grasp of death"

"In the end, it thus came to pass, that it was only the Green Knight who answered her call. Alone, did the knight face Ustga and his undead horde in battle, near the jeweled city of Estmor, in the heart of winter, when darkness still commanded the months. Surrounded was he, Tavra’s champion, outnumbered was he, the stalwart soldier. Death loomed over him and his fate seemed sealed."

A series of anxious gasps echoed across the tavern and Harald grinned, silently congratulating himself on his talent, before resuming his role with a most grave nod, "A hard battle took place, in which many hard blows were dealt and returned; but it ended by the death of Ustga and his dark tower fell, reduced to rubble."

Loud cheers erupted, and children happily clapped their hands together, certain that a happy ending was well in sight. Harald, himself, had never been convinced by the most popular versions of the tale, which ended with the Green Knight at peace, rewarded for his duty. Alas, Harald was but the messenger, and he knew that he had no choice to obey the simpleminded desires of his audience.

"Having slain the foul necromancer and ended the blight, the Green Knight returned once more to the wilderness. Some say that he lived his remaining years in peace, dying a peaceful death in the forest he guarded at the impressive age of two hundred and fifty years. Others claim that the valiant knight suffered a mortal blow in the battle against Ustga and that his story ends with his noble death."

"Yet friends, I say to you with certainty, none of these other stories are true. No, for the Green Knight did not cease his wandering, he did not quietly slip into the silent darkness of the void. He has remained vigilant for all these thousands of years, he has not forgotten us, he still lives! Seek him out and if you are worthy you will find him and see that he is as real as I."

Accompanied by applause and a series of rousing cheers, the ancient bard bowed deeply and holding out his hat, he collected a sizable number of coins from the audience. It took all his skill as a performer to keep from sneering with disgust. What fools, what hopeless dreamers it was he faced, happily believing that some long dead hero still protected them. Now of course, Harald considered himself a learned man, he had heard of the sightings of the Green Knights by the common folk and he had read the writings of less distantly dead men that spoke of encountering a strange knight armored in green. It amazed the cynical bard sometimes what fiction the desperate mind could create.

"What was his name?" A young boy asked with grave concern as he dropped a coin in the hat of the grizzled bard, interrupting Harald in the midst of his blissful contemplation.

Harald Silvertongue laughed and spoke with a smirk on his face, "Boy, only the gods still know his name, and they don’t speak much these days. At least not to the likes of me!" With a final swig from his tankard of ale and a burst of laughter that seemed to shake the very wooden beams that supported the thatched roof of the humble tavern, the old bard strolled out into the night, smiling quietly to himself as he felt the newfound heaviness of his hat.

A P P E A R A N C E

"In the ancient stories the Green Knight is depicted as a giant of a man, a towering figure adorned with armor of metal and wood, his face always hidden beneath a great helm decorated with the antlers of a strange beast. The grim sword Foebane he ever wielded, the bringer of death to all manner of unnatural creatures."

- Harald Silvertongue, the famed Bard of the North, in the year of our Lord 1015.

"At the behest of the king and with little ceremony the Green Knight removed his helm. His black hair was long and ragged, reaching to his shoulders, his beard equally unkempt and the man seemed to have lost himself to the wilderness. Calm green eyes looked at our party with only a polite hint of amusement, lingering on each of us as if in judgment, and a broad mouth shifted into a modest, disarming smile. His noble features and the antiquated, exceedingly formal manner in which he spoke led me to believe that he must have been a member of one of the ancient Nalmorian houses."

- statements made by the legendary bard Perdan Goldenlute to the Alundo, royal scribe of the Kingdom of Telrov, year unkown.

A B I L I T I E S / E Q U I P M E N T

Abilities

"Like many mythical heroes, the Green Knight was favored by the gods themselves and Tavra, goddess of nature, was said to have given him great gifts of power so that he could do her will and restore balance to the lands."

- Enin the Priest, "On Gods and Men", year unknown.

" The favored servant of Tavra, the Green Knight was the recipient of a number of her boons:

The Gift of the Sun - The tales of old make bold claims, many suggest that the Green Knight had learned to be as patient as the ancient trees of the Nalmorian forest, no longer just a man, needing naught but the sun and rain to sustain himself.

The Will of the Forest - Unmoved by danger, impervious to the bite of blades, uninterested in the stab of spears and uncaring of the kiss of arrows, the Green Knight was as indomitable as nature, marching ever onwards.

Mastery of the Forest - Blessed with a divine spark from Tavra, the Green Knight was said to be one with the forest. The oldest ballads sing of his ability to create all manner of plants as if from the empty air, to shape even the mightiest of oaks in accordance with his will, and like his master to move unimpeded through the forests by man or beast."

- The Arch-Mage Yerlo, "The Might of the Heroes", year unknown

Arms and Armor

"The Green Knight was said to carry three mighty weapons:

The Bow of Swift Justice - A massive bow made of stout wood and covered with moss, uncannily accurate and possessing a silent bite that few beings could survive. Although the Green Knight could use the bow with ease, legend says that only one granted the favor of the knight himself could draw back the string of the bow even halfway.

The Heartwood Spear - A heavy spear carved entirely out of ancient oak and dressed in dark green vines. The spear was said to stand taller than even the Great Knight himself and was adorned with a leaf-shaped spearhead, fashioned from a piece of dark wood, perfectly smooth to the touch. Far stronger than steel, the remarkable spear bristled with arcane energies. Affixed just below the spearhead was a simple yellow banner, referred to by bards as the "Banner of Tavra."

The Sword Foebane - A grim, two handed blade, forged by Tavra with one purpose in mind, to restore the balance of nature. Far too large for any normal man to wield, the longsword was said to bring instant death to the unnatural beings which plagued the lands. Nonetheless, it is a beautiful weapon, inlaid with intricate patters of silver that seem to mimic the branches and leaves of a tree, with the hilt of the legendary sword forming the stem and roots.

Oaken Armor - In all the stories, even the most ancient, the Green Knight is described as wearing a green robe and a strange set of armor crafted out of a wood and metal. No mortal smith could have forged the steel just so, nor could the finest carpenters in all of Nalmor have bent the wood in such a manner. The exceptional armor was capable of absorbing great blows and it was said that it allowed the Green Knight to weather even the worst of storms."

- Jeyro the scribe, "The Arms and Armor of Legendary Knights", year unknown.

A G E O F L E G E N D

The Green Knight belongs to some of the oldest ages of Ansus and while his story has not been forgotten, the true man, has been buried beneath thousands of years of legend.

I've half a mind to have the first post involve Harald Silvertongue, the self proclaimed greatest rapper bard in all the lands and undisputed king of wenching drinking.

Shadowrun: Magic's Blight

Jawohl, I'll have something up tonight (optimistically) or Tuesday (realistically).

Shadowrun: Magic's Blight

@Vigfast What about you?

@Ruby

I can fill a magic spot if needed or barring that provide a neo-primative troll.

Starless

I may have to modify Crow's awakening so she isn't dumped right back into the open ocean - she's not the strongest swimmer, hence how she died in the first place.

(I'll probably end up restricting her magic for a bit, since she doesn't have much in the way of equipment relics.)

@Corvidae

Aboose!!!

I demand the witch be forced to swim, reliable sources tell me that it's a matter of "sink or swim".

Ianus Congreatio: Secret societies, horror, and mystery in the shadows of Prague.

I feel slightly sad we don't have a doctor now...for no particular reason.

"Dr. Batson, so nice that you could join us."

Starless

@Transience Speaking of the passage of time and the development of society, does the setting follow classic fantasy stories in the sense that several thousands of years hasn't necessarily seen technology comparable to that of our own particular reality (i.e. essentially a very long medieval period inevitably dominates)?