Tales By The Fire

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  The tale of Ting, Ania, and Frank
  • Frank The Fairy

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  ((Ok I've edited a lot of the previous posts in the story to make it a little clearer. I'm going to drag this out of the closet and finish it hopefully. I know I promised this before but I'm really going to try hard at it this time))
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  Janus SilverOak, Elven Druid
  • acake

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  The roar sounded, scaring birds into the clear sky for miles. The small caravan on a road through the woods was well armed. Ten men surrounded the covered wagon, swords and shields at the ready. Lord Des inside was confident as he sipped his heady wine. “No fool druid will dare to harm us, m’lady!” He reassured the drunken courtesan, who had persisted in annoying him with the rumor of the mad druid. Fifty yards in front of the caravan, a black panther stood on the road. It roared at the caravan. After initial surprise, the sergeant belted out, “’tis only one druid, men! Have at it!” The order had not reached their ears before the monster of a bear charged out of the woods by the road, roaring fiercely, madly. It crashed through the men, sending them flying as the wagon felt the full force of the bear’s impact. Wood and sawdust splintered into the air as the panther closed, quickly disemboweling the guards who hadn’t been hit by the bear-dozer. The courtesan screamed as the bear climbed on top of the wagon, now laying on its side. A huge paw extended into the wagon, claws piercing the drunk noble’s fancy clothing. He was lifted out by the huge bear, held face to face with a roar that deafened him, and a maw of teeth that threatened to swallow his head. And then they did.
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  Evec Baudelaire's Journal.
  • Evocaur

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  Blackwood Memories...
  • Nilla

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  The Journal of A Lost Soul
  • DnD_Freaky_Geek

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  ((Hey, thanks for the help, perhaps I will keep on writing. These posts though, involve (mostly), things that have happened to the main character IG. Many of these things are interesting, but I'm mostly heving trouble with new ideas because my char is such a loner that things don't (too often) happen around him, though when they do, they are usually very deep and personaly for that char…(go figure) so, I suppose I'll keep on writing then as soon as I get more Ideas, and I'll break up the posts more, writing does give my a lot of joy, though my style is usually one of three things, somber and schzio, schzio, or dry with with a somewhat happy balance between the latter and the former...so I really need to work on the happy blance aspect I suppose. For now then, I guess these stories are just "on hiatus". I'll probably write more too, so be on the lookout. Oh, and seriously, did I go too far with the second post?)) -DnD_Freaky_Geek :tux: "Soylent Green is people!!" Thorn to Hatcher
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  Walking Wood Walker Works
  • Pyrus

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  Rolert's Adventure
  • Hinhater

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  -5- Rolert, Ragrin, and Dolition ran down the halls their swords out. They found the bell and other armor clad Slaughtered Duergar preparing for war straightening there lines. Then they heard it, far away but they could here it clearly. War drums at least thirty drums and the Duergar the SD fought had one drummer for each ten men. Three Hundred Iron clad Duergar. This was going to be a fight. They had one day to prepare. And also try and find that Duergar scout. Now Dolition was worried, but was not afraid. They had a day to put the battlefield in their favor. So they went to work, finding the Scout, Digging trenches in the main cave, putting light spells around the caverns making holes for Duergar to fall into, Traps, and much more. They would work non-stop until the drums where an hour away. Then would eat, make love to their wife’s, and be marry until the battle came to them. They found the scout no more then five hours. He was quickly executed away from anyone. (As is the dwarven way) They worked, and worked making the battlefield fit for them then it came down the five-mile tunnel leaving the main halls of the SD. Drums and war chants. They left the battlefield. The young one’s to sleep, the older to drink and eat, and the ones with wife’s to pleasure them. Out they came as refreshed as they had been in twenty-four hours. Making a tactical barrier of shields in front with taller humans behind them with Greatswords. Behind them where axe throwers and crossbowmen. Then a wider spread dwarven line so the ranged fighters could escape into the ranks if the front starded to crumble are die. This line was filled with Greatswords men. After that it was just a loosely packed army of Dwarven and Human soldiers. While this was going on Healea’s Shock Troopers would Flank the Duergar while they climbed through the Trenches one troop on each flank. They could see them across the main natural cavern. (It was as bright as outside from all the light wards) They saw them start to break as soon as they touched light scrambling closer together, They knew this would happen that is why they set two trench systems the first a few yards from where the Duergar stood and where a Battalion of Battle Ragers waited to fight. As soon as the blinded Duergar began jumping into the Trench systems, the Battle Ragers came screaming out Greatswords in hand. Slashing at the back of the jumping Ranks soon to die from sheer numbers. For there were only ten of them three hundred of the Duergar, Slashing, cutting, killing they were doing there job. As the Duergar that had not jumped into the Trench system yet heard screams of death they became closer together. Which in turn was going to make it easier for the “surprise”. For up above them was one Battle Rager on the roof of the cavern stood there with a rope cutting knife in hand waiting to let loose a roped up boulder the size of a decent sized cottage. Then he cut it falling down with the boulder smashing a good forty Duergar underneath the boulder. With half of their flank just gone, and the front line being massacred in a trench the Duergar were already down to about two hundred men. But they finally heard the death yells of the Battle Ragers being dead and with that the not as blinded yet more waved Duergar pressed on running over the trench just to learn no more then thirty yards from the enemy another trench. Many of them just thinking of turning and heading back the leader refused that option by bowing down a runner. The Duergar pressed onward into the trench, and to there surprise no Battle Ragers. But they heard something else two charges from the east of the trench and the west, and a march command from the Duergar’s north. So here they where having the brute of the army heading towards the Trench, they being attacked on there east and west flanks by the best the SD had to offer, and last but not least the army finally getting there and raining a barrage of bolts upon the blinded Duergar. In the back of the Trench the Duergar there where going to take there risk and run. But the others had no choice but to die they being pushed so close together that they could hardly moved panicked many tried to beg for mercy from the Shock Teams massacring the flanks. Many tried to get on to the other side of the Trench to start to fight the well-shielded army, only to be decapitated by the huge, strong barbarian swings. Many ran, only to be bolted down by the crossbowmen. After no more then thirty minutes of real battle all the Duergar save three were dead. With SD losses of no more then twenty this was indeed a huge heroic victory. Rolert stayed with them for the next few weeks. But it was time for him to leave, He headed back with Ragrin saying hello to Brudoc (his best friend) before he left. It was good to head back to Narfell. THE END
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  Relinquish.
  • Flom

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  0.4 _-Early birds and worms, Part II. "Err, my prices huh?" It's not that hard, you dolt. Just make up prices. "Er, about 40 gold a trip. Dependin' on the danger and length and all that…" I smile, shifting my gear. She chuckles, then grins, commenting, "Wow, you won't ever be making any gold that way. It's way too steep." I chuckle as well, then furrow a brow, thinking. Mercenaries... Can't be that hard. All you do is do what your boss tells you to do, and then you get payed. Not that bad at all. Plus you get to smack stuff around. Heh. So we get to talking. I was right. This girl in front of me ain't no bonny lass, no sir. She's experienced, she obviously knows her stuff. She tells me of how she worked for some well-to-do preistess called Rith Phoenix Feather. She also tells me her name: Kaywen. "Kaywen? I must say that is a charmin' name, mam." It really is, you know. "I'm Alan Schek, small-time mercenary and bounty hunter, at your service." Fibbing's so easy once you get the hang of it. Besides, I'm not exactly 'fibbing' per say; just stating the truth a bit early, is all. Yeah, that's right, I've decided on a job finally. Going to be a mercenary bodyguard bounty hunter... thing. Whatever. You get the drift. -The B.S. Mercenaries. So me and Kaywen stroll over to Jiyyd's pub. We buy ourselves some ale and keep talking. She had her own mercenary organisation once, she called it the "Blue Shields" mercenaries. So yeah, we keep talking, and seen as how we're both mercenaries… (Hey, I'm not lying. I'm one now, arn't I?) We decide to go into business together, chatting at that smokey table in the Regal Whore inn. "But..." After a long chat of vague things, she speaks up, wiping her mouth from the downed ale. "Hm?" I furrow my brow, listening, leaning on my elbows. "I gotta teach you how to use that greatsword of yours better." She grins, I chuckle. "Sure thang, you can teach me tomarrow mornin' or something around those lines." She smiles and nods. "Good."_
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  Tales of a Warrior of Tyr
  • Shadow_Dragon

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  To Blame I know I’m not to blame. The wedding was ruined by things beyond my control, my father, Atol, and the Dark Enchantress all have wills of their own and all decided to come. I couldn’t have known what would occur, and I couldn’t have stopped it. That doesn’t comfort me much though. Because of who I am, our wedding was ruined; what should have been a bright day for me and Merydian turned into a nightmare. Because I’m Talgrath, my father, though in illusion form, showed himself and threatened to take our first child. Because my father came, the Dark Enchantress showed up. How am I supposed to make this right? Merydian seems inconsolable, but I can’t just stop being who I am, I can’t just stop trying to do good things; nor can I just suddenly not have the father I have anymore. How can I stop a man who seems to be able to reach out from the grave to ruin my life? How am I supposed to protect my family from who I am? I’ve tried so hard to keep the dangers of my life separate from my family, but it appears the dangers are now leaking into my private life. I’ve devoted my life to learning the ways of the blade, becoming a powerful warrior, what am I to do when my blade is useless? How do I fight a foe that appears to be immortal? All I can do is pray to Tyr, I suppose, and see if my friends can’t help me. At the same time, I can’t help but wonder about the past, something I generally try to avoid. I’ve always thought that looking back at one’s past was a waste of time, but I find myself curious as to what really did happen in the past. Who was my mother? Where was I born? Rufus said that my father used to worship Tyr, what happened to my father to twist him so? What the hells happened to mess things up like this? Who or what’s to blame for all of this?
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  The hardest path...
  • Nilla

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  The Silver Light Chronicles
  • Archon_Prime

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  A letter is sent to the Tejan-Revendor Estate, Cormyr _To the office of Isendillur Tejan-Revendor, Family Elder I write you this letter, so you would know that I still live. I know that I have been missing from the family for some years now, and I would like to bring clarification to my current situation. I currently reside within the land of Narfell. Although I have considered returning to Cormyr to rejoin the family, I eventually decided against it. However, seeing as I still am a member of the family, I believe I am entitled to my now-deceased father's holdings and assets. I understand, however, that these assets may already have been divided among others of the family, yet I must stress its importance. My father's holdings are, after all, mine by heritige, and I should have access to them as such. In the event that my holdings have already been divided or sold, I am entitled to proper compensation. I will accept no excuses on this matter, as the family law is perfectly clear on this. My fate may not have been confirmed for some years, but I do so now. Please send information regarding this matter as soon as possible. Yours truly, Elorathall Tejan-Revendor_
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  A serenade goodbye
  • Tori

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  This is my first proper journal entry since we have parted ways with Leoorin and Belgeon, for which I am glad, at least I can write in some peace. Adotiln is a kind man, but in his presence most of the time, it does become very tiring. He means well but the way Tyr is meant to ‘guide’ him, it sounds like he doesn’t have much freedom. It is admirable what he does though he seems tied to his faith more I could deal being with. But again I’ve never truly felt the urge to follow a god that closely, I know Selune watches over me but she would not want me to give up my freedom as a paladin would. We are now in Arable, and it is a beautiful city, full of life and humming with people. And not to mind the odd pick pocket! Adotiln has insisted that I stay at the temple of Tyr for a while but I would feel more comfortable at the Shrine of Selune. I am still with out my voice, and I can’t always carry a ink and paper with me; so Adotiln has helped me to come up with a few signs. Just simple words but I am getting more fluent at using them with him. (below are a few simple outlines of hand signals, like water, food, yes, no, please, thank you, how are you? ) Often I am left with out anything to do, and one of the monks sometimes throws a broom and other things at me, in a simple title, I am the cleaning woman. It is boring and I feel somewhat angered I am left to do this silly work. At least, it is something to go but it is horrible when I have to scrub the steps. But, I do get paid for this work, and soon I should be able to a passage on a boat or carriage back to my home. I have written to mother, and I pray she gets the letter in good time and that she isn’t mourning my supposed death. (There are a few blotches of ink, like someone has dropped the quill) Adotiln has just told me of something very interesting, a theory perhaps. He thinks that I have lost my voice to Shar, when I was half way to death, I was in a void, and to leave there something had to be sacrificed, and my voice was the one thing to go. At times it is frustrating not being able to get a point across, but I was no bard who cherished a good singing voice, my voice wasn’t my lively hood so I don’t feel cheated. Just having been that close to Shar does still scare me deeply, having liked the emptiness of my mind, I understand how others feel against a Sharren now, I’d never really been that concerned about one of them, but now I am. I guess it must just be another step into my faith but I think I am ready for some direction in my life now, so I will embrace the opportunities she will give to me.
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  The big stupid one, the small strange one, and the dead ones
  • elor_danna

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  Sara Quickfoot's notebook
  • elor_danna

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  Bard's Tale: The Story of Garanor (The Dead)
  • Guest

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  I am sorry for poor Garanor, may Tyr avenge his death.
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  Thoughts of a lost Soul
  • DnD_Freaky_Geek

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  Gunnar Hockstrohm, Knight of the Divine Shield
  • gahlord

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  The following was written by Strepsiades but included here as part of this tale (I didn't ask permission so Streps if you don't want it here just pipe up and I'll take it out). Sent to the von Hockstrohm estate, Immersea, Cormyr _The peace of Helm be with you. It is with my deepest condolences that I must inform you of the death of Sir Gunnar Hockstrohm, faithful of the Watcher and Knight of the Divine Shield. Sir Gunnar served with distinction in our Order for many years, his strength of faith and commitment to duty earning him the respect of both his fellow knights and the people of the Narfell region. In all of our struggles, he never once failed to heed the call, be it for battle or otherwise. With his help, we were able to restore the temple in Jiyyd when the altar had been cursed by dark forces, and with his help we traveled to Mintas Rhelgor to destroy the cabal of Banites there. Gunnar was an example to many of the younger knights, always ready to sacrifice himself in service to a greater cause. In his later years, Gunnar labored tirelessly to establish a vineyard in Jiyyd. The magnitude of such a task cannot be overstated, since Narfell is a cold and hard land and does not take to any crops easily. To my knowledge, the grapes from the von Hockstrohm vineyard produce the only ice wine in the entire region. I have included a bottle of it along with several of Gunnar's personal effects, which should be arriving in Cormyr shortly. It will not be easy to maintain the vines without his expertise and dedication, but the temple depends on the estate's income and we will find someone to carry on with the work. It is our intention to lay Sir Gunnar to rest in the temple of Helm in Jiyyd. His sword and other such items will be laid with him. As we have done in the past for our fallen knights, we will ensure that his tomb is well tended and blessed by the High Watcher. If it is your wish that his remains be returned home, tell us and we will bring him to you ourselves. It is a long and difficult journey, but he made it more than once, and we would not deny him the trip for one last time. Please do not hesitate in asking for anything; you and your brother have already given so much to us. I pray that the pain of your loss will be eased by the knowledge that Gunnar died as a paladin of Helm, in battle, after long and distringuished service. I have no doubt that he watches the Bridge even now. Yours in faith, Sir Roland Brynmor Grandmaster Order of the Divine Shield Peltarch Narfell_
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  Westran's Journal
  • Archon_Prime

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  Star is nice, and I play a lot with her. She can pounce good to. We hunted spiders, and we did a nap.
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  In the boarshead....
  • Etherian

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  The Burning of the Journal Drelan sat in a nice padded chair in front of the fire at the Alliance Inn. The keeper had been kind enough to let him stay there through the night while he retired to his quarters, finishing off the precious few bottles of moonshine and elven wine he had left. Drelan had finally found a place that he could quietly ponder the life that lay before him. He had done everything he could, fought the good fight, and yet still as always everyone ended up with at least something they sought except for himself. He knew a bard would disagree with him and say he had gained freedom but in reality he knew he hadn't. He had merely severed the limb. He could still feel the invisible tethers as he ran his hand accross the worn journal. Perhaps he gained a few moments of bliss on this supposed happy day, but it was miniscule in the face of all lost. At least he had been able to maintain the illusion of peace of mind long enough to restore some semblence of happiness to his sister, and though he probably shouldn't have he offered the lady a drunken prayer for that small victory. All for love, just not his own. He smirked in contempt of the lectures he had been raised on how love was some beautious thing that deserved protection above all else. It didn't reward its sacrifices well. He almost laughed at the warning the old sailor had given him, more wise evidentally than any sage or other elder. He was weary, tired of the fight that he never gained ground in. He looked down at the book full of words and thoughts below him, his tool for rebirth if he should ever need it again. Good, trustworthy, reliable words, yet all for something he could feel didn't exist anymore. He threw the book into the fire its weathered pages wrinkling as the life was sucked from them and it was turned to nonconsequential ash. Drelan finished off his bottle of moonshine and set it down on the floor. Birthdays were never good days.
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  Of Runes, Spirits, Gold and Axes
  • Archon_Prime

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