Tales By The Fire

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  Whispers in the Woods
  • Robyn

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  smiles Thank you. In war there are many people, even small unsung heroes like Myrrha, that die vainly on the battlefield for little purpose other than showing they fought because they cared for their friends. At the start of this finale, I told myself I would give each character I played "just one more death". Myrrha was one of them. When she died last night from a critical hit from a crossbow, it was kind of sad, because I felt sorry for this little displaced creature with no home I can only hope I did her fictional life justice, even in death.
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  The Fall from Darkness
  • aeolderr

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  I'm pathetic, I really am. I'm letting my heart get the better of me, and it's driving me to misery. I shouldn't care, I really really shouldn't. There's no reason I can't let what is just exist, and not simply enjoy whatever happens to be within arms reach; but I can't do it, I want more. I find myself longing, craving, and then I see myself in the mirror..and sigh. I know what I am, I know what I've done. If I was to ever find love, it would have to either be someone as disturbed as me or someone who knows nothing about me. That thought hurts me, I have to lie to find love, not that I've ever worried about it before. I guess it isn't really love I care about, it's a man. I don't know why, he doesn't even try really, but I feel something for him. A defender nonetheless, probably couldn't even kiss him in public, and he certainly would leave me if he knew even half of what I do on a regular basis. That brings me to my next point, apparently I'm married. According to some custom followed in a land I don't even live in, because I gave a gift to one of the barbarians I'm his wife. I admit, I liked the sex and attention, but I don't really want to be married. I guess I'll have to kill him then, if the war doesn't, being a widow wont be so bad. Just another little half truth to tell, the same as I'm a knight, or I've lost a daughter. I met a woman following Loviatar, who I admit got my blood boiling quite a bit. It's a major turn on for me to see women who enjoy pain, not men as much for some reason. I get more of a sadistic pleasure from abusing men I guess, rather than a sexual one. Anyways, by the end I know I could never care for her. The pain only builds up to a certain point before I'm ready to move on, and that isn't the way she thinks. For me, pain is a tool for pleasure, not pleasure itself. Speaking of boiling blood, continuing my string of sexual activity, I got to seduce and watch the murder of a young Ashald. The vampire known as Lillia is truly an enigma to me, she fascinates me, and I disturb her. She is powerful, there's no denying that, and she clings to vaguely felt feelings of humanity..when in truth what humanity is left is so far gone as to leave only a monster. I think she sees me as a living reflection of what she has become, I'd be scared too. Regardless, our victim was a young nephew of Rath, Nathen Ashald. It was so easy, simply approached him and gave him the ever practiced story of my lesbian partner and I wanted to experiment with a man. Not sure if that story ever really comes true, honestly, every time I've heard it used someone gets robbed or killed. In this case, he was killed, and I got to watch her feed. It was..odd. There was so much power in her that he was helpless to resist, and I think that killed it for me. He just stood there and died, rather than the thrashing a body does when you drown it. We've had bad luck on our missions lately. The latest sailing trip found us being robbed by Five Points Raiders, no way we could beat the Valarion and the Rain's Fury together. It still pisses me off how easily we were beaten, but I guess that is the price we paid for setting off without most of our crew. Outsiders certainly don't replace them. I think the people of Norwick are trying to get us killed, I really, really do. We had been hired to destroy a caravan to the N'Jasti, simple job really. We were approaching by stealth, invisibility and sneaks, we can do that surprisingly well. Halfway through, in the middle of occupied territory, Maya charges up on her horse shining like a beacon! Then she follows us trying to talk, asking what we're doing there. Is the woman really that stupid? So now we had to kill a few more patrols come to check up what the disturbance was. Fine, we get on with it, a vague plan to escape to Norwick after the strike. The strike actually went well, the keg set off without a hitch, the bridge shut off with a stink cloud from Mercy to slow pursuit and then the escape began…The escape is where we faltered. Some went north, some went south, some got held up by Norwickers, some even went back and forth between our escaping people multiple times. The end result was half of us fleeing North for reasons I still don't understand, and the other half of us waiting in Norwick for the ones that fled North. I think I would have been ok if I hadn't started worrying so, I was weak and I admit it. We got back eventually, Tiain smuggling us back across the pass. For someone who shows as little emotion as her, I don't think i've ever questioned that she cares for this crew. She even got us back after some idiot Norwickers decided to tag along..as if we needed more chances to be spotted by an army. I guess everything's fine though, we're all alive. Well, except for Gurt getting killed by the Renegades, but they will be dealt with in time. For now I suppose I'll just enjoy my time with my Defender. Who knows, maybe he'll even take a liking to me. i'd enjoy that a lot until I eventually end up chasing him off. Such is the nature of my life I guess, and part of the price I pay. ~Taria
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  Fair Warning
  • BetaPhi

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  Picking up the Pieces
  • Teah

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  Growt offered to help find Pops today. He spoke a little too loudly near a torch trying to defray suspicion from me too. So sweet, I just wonder if everything for him is carefully planned. I sometimes catch him looking at my legs. I guess having grown up around dwarves that is to be expected. I'm worried about pops. I know now if they get him to the crossroad he'll let himself die. He wont let them jeopardize the sisterhood home. It doesn't help that the tribe is starting to plan his funeral service. We've found the warehouse where the wood is being taken, but having gone inside I could find no entrance to where the gnomes are. The men working there all seem terrified of the torches. This is partly how we realized the gnome was speaking through the flames. I watch the warehouse as much as I can, but still I am not sure if I will find them in time to stop them. **** some days later*** Where to start with this tale days old now. Pops is returned to me badly damaged, but back. I only hope he recovers… It was like jumping into what I would imagine a mouth of hell looking like. All flames and melted raw dirt and rock. Still Meyiel, Reilash and I jumped. The flaming coach was attempting to leave Peltarch. We couldn't catch them in the sewers, but we managed to get out of them to the surface. They were hampered by the bridges somehow and one of their flaming horses was killed. This slowed them enough to gain on them some. Then near the high ridges south a force of hobgoblins had broken into them. I don't understand why the hobgoblins attacked. The coach was broken though. The gnomes fleeing on foot their last mount dead in the water. A large fire elemental leaving slushy wet foot prints in the snow and scorching the wood of the bridge. A gypsy guard pointing south and shouting about the elemental having killed his companion. Quick promises to return and help the guard, a healing song sang. The man calming a bit now than he no longer dripped. A rush as we made ourselves unseen and fell on them. The casters first, no the elemental. Free Jerr worry about the rest when he was free. They were both casters anyway. The fire elemental fell quickly to the mages spells and then like a pack of snarling wolves we fell on the gnomes. Two against 10 or was it 8 of us. They fought hard. In the end though their bodies lay dead only briefly before bursting into flames and becoming piles of ash on the ground. The few things that withstood the fire I gave to those who helped me, after we'd free pops from the sack they'd carried him in. It was a terrible sight though. he was wrapped head to toe in bandages. The bandages weren't soaked in any healing salve, oh no, they were soaked in oil. Oil so that when he burned he were burn longer and more painfully. We didnt' know that at the time. At first people didn't recognize him. all the flesh melted from his bones. he did not recognize us either. The heart wrenching agony of seeing someone you love so badly beaten and not being recognized. He didn't realize he was safe. I think the image of him trying to crawl away in the snow will haunt me for the rest of my life. We half carried him to the camp, pausing in the icy waterfall outside to help rinse away the bandages and the oil. They had been bound tight enough to stick into what was left of his flesh. There was no way to remove them without the ice cold water. Shivering and blue, I couldn't feel my fingers or my hands. Their tips white, but not painful before we'd gotten the last of the bandages off of him. Yet he did not feel the cold at all. It was soothing the ice. I guess that was a blessing. The gods know it took me hours to warm back up and the pain in my hands from that water. Nothing, nothing at all to his pain though. I shouldn't even write it here. We carried him to a cold fireless camp outside of William and Raver's home. He couldn't bare to be enclosed. He fears greatly catching a flame with someone too close. I'm not sure what the business about catching afire means, but it cannot be good. I love him so much. I'm so glad he is back, but at what cost? I feel responsible for it all. He has told me not to, but still. Well this is the facts anyway written down for now. Maybe later the rest of the story can be told. Is it enough that he is alive?
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  A Peek Over Benji's Shoulder
  • MexicanCookie

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  Benji's second attempt at a commercial invention Some notes are written here before the diagram. _Now look Mr./Mrs. (client's name here). I know you're tired of having to go back to your temple to buy more holy water every time you have to cure a disease or smite a demon. With my new invention you won't have to! Look! It's easy to use. Just fill it up with some water. Any kind will do. Then bless it right here with your magic. (point to tank) Push down this part here and BLAMO! Your average big nasty Balor's face is melting because he just got sprayed with holy water! Astounding I know! (negotiate price)_
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  The tail of fox
  • Adric

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  Things have gone… no... become complicated, a War has broken out and destroyed my favourite place to haunt, I liked Jiyyd... Times are hard but finding time is harder. Maybe I should just go home... but I can't, can I? Just up and leave these people who could use my help? Do they even want my help? I now hand around Peltarch Got some new outfits, one's a deep black with blood red trimming, makes me look like some sort of evil priestess or something, it's fun to smile and wave at people saying "have a nice day!" got a lot of funny looks. The other outfit is green and... well it's different. Now all I need is some gold, went and spent it all I did... oh well... Oh and I spent a week as a fox that was weird, but I'd love to do it again. -FOX
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  Featherflights
  • Vortext

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  I am sure you know of the troubles in the North, In Jiyyd, or rather, what was once Jiyyd. A great many innocents are now within my realm. Refugees without shelter, or much food. I cannot guarantee their safety. Norwick has many threats upon us, and I am in constant fear that my flock, now doubled in size with the Jiyyd and Hin refugees, is in grave danger. Using the age-old paths of the Featherflights, I ask you this giant favor. Can I send the women and children of the realm here to your land where they might be spared the cruelty of Bugbear, foreign invaders, or evil that possibly and likely awaits them? I will send along with them whatever provisions I can. I only want the innocent to be safe. It is a great responsibility that has been thrust upon me. You know me as a warrior, and one that would sooner seek the death of my enemies, but this new role, as a protector, is one that I swore to my God himself. First for Dwarven-kind, but now I believe for all souls in need. A great storm is on this land and I do not have the shelter to keep everyone safe from it! Will you, can you help?
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  Tales from the Redcloaks of Asbravn
  • Darkpowder

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  Map of Asbravn from D&D Gamer
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  Rhyn and the Six Dwarves
  • Tigrelily

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  The Veil of Deceit ~Prose of the Judicator
  • Oddba11

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  Under lock and Key. (keesy's ramblings)
  • eladrial skeksis

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  Oh, how I doubt why I am here! I tried so hard to justify my reasons for ebing in Jyyid! For even taking up space at all. Yes i Search for someone who is long dead, Somoene few would remember now. But wouldn't anyone want to know the truth of someone's life instead of the lies they were brought up to believe? It wasn't her fault. She was harshly misjudged. Maybe her spirit is watching me now, trying as I am to know her. but no. A fey I met today, nice as she seemed , was determined upon finding out what I was trying.. and to turn me from my task. I only spoke to her about it because I had heard they had long lives. I have no response to the letter I left at the camp. I can't yet go out into the pass there to the broken wall, where she is buried next to her .. Husband? I don't even know if they lived long enough to Marry. There is at least one other grave there with hers as well. The name Valis is on the stone, and I wonder at why he is next to them. I nearly joined them as fodder for the creatures in those woods… I went to unlock the box I found under it the first time I visited the headstone... But there it remains . Therein I hope will be a journal or.. something... Anything. The Fey made me doubt everything. what do you want me to do? leave you and your secrets lie? Do you even care what mother and the rest in OUr village think of you anymore? Or are you free now? All these thoughts. And to find out Jerrick is married. Why does it all have to hurt like this? I finnally someone who is willing to be my freind, and I dared hope.. more.. And even he hid truths from me. I told him everything. Then I met her. I found out from others that all of her past partners are dead or missing. It's not my place I know. And besides. It was the fey who told me that. I don't know what to think of such creatures after witnessing Jerrick's efforts to save people turned into trees by malign fey. Ben was kind today, and another woman ; Ashe, who seems new to the region as well. We talked much about certain skills Ashe and I have , and she taught me something wonderful and secret. I hope to see them again. I think I need more freinds here. Jerrick seems too busy now. It was nice to talk to someone who is a deft with her hands as I am! I could almost forget the disdain with which Pretty E treated my ask here.
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  Deja Veiwz checkerboard.
  • Madjus

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  Cogitations of Perriwig P. Doubleday...
  • ArUlric

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  @3d60f8babb: A Galloping Gastrognome’s Guide to the Eateries of Narfell: Jiyyd _The most readily accessed of the outlying towns, Jiyyd is located on the Long Road, tucked between the humps of Coldstone Mountains and the eastern elbow of the Rawlinswood. Although often unsympathetically characterised as a rural slum, Jiyyd is not totally without rustical and historical appeal. Commandeered by black-armoured militaire Legionnaires, the town’s smell and muddy-frontier appearance gives travellers a real taste of the “edge of civilisation” lifestyle. Built alongside and atop a large hill, crowned by a rather tasteless temple dedicated to the human God Helm, Jiyyd acted as the nerve centre of the campaign against the evil, and would-be world-tyrant dragon, Sharn. The captured wealth of the white dragon’s horde has apparently done little to improve the town’s aesthetic lot, however. Its crooked-spined houses, and the downtrodden and grimy look of the populace may not appeal to holidaymakers seeking luxury. The Regal Whore Inn, Jiyyd * (half a star) While the exterior of Jiyyd’s premier accommodation facility, The Regal Whore Inn, may charitably be described as unprepossessing, the interior merely aspires to that merciful description. Brown prevails, remorselessly. A hopeful investigation reports that the beer-stained carpets surrounding the central bar may once have been red, but their glory days have past. Matched with the wood-panelling, the prevailing impression left by the main bar is one of premature burial. Inspecting the smaller chambers off of the main room, one of our reviewers was startled by a gyrating clotheless female. Suspecting some sort of illicit activity, an examination of the common sleeping area confirmed our worst fears. A sort of rumpus room, its cots centred around a mound of distinctly sticky cushions. After extensive discussion, the Committee have come to the considered conclusion that the Regal Whore Inn may also be some sort of retrograde bucolic bordello. If so, its crowd showed little sign of excitement, and is primarily patronised by gloomily supping locals. A quick examination of the menu – which is the only manner in which one could examine the sparse and predictable document - disappoints. As does the stew which eventually materialises. Care has been taken to overcook the meat, while ensuring that none of its native flavour survives the process. The Inn’s range of quaffables is less limited. The beer on tap proves biddably hoppy, which is a mercy, since the rest of winelist promises either instantaneous inebriation or immediate nausea. The brave or the foolhardy may be tempted by the authentically sourced “Orcish Brew”, which my spry salesstrumpet advised me is redolent of the distilled perspiration of twenty orcs – although I confess my courage failed me, and I left the bottle sniffed – which confirmed its distinctly sweaty nose – but unsipped. In the alternative, the barmaid cheerfully suggested that I might try “Dead Man’s Breath”, also known by the more prosaic title of Crescent Moonshine. A local favourite, I attempted a thimble full. Not to be recommended. Wryly, I proposed another title: Drinking to Forget. The delicious gag apparently didn’t translate terribly well into the local parlance, as our hostess didn’t smile. For the lonely traveller intent on slumming it, or a depressed soul seeking a spot to drown his woes – or indeed himself - the tender mercies of The Regal Whore may provide. For those of you keen on your creature-comforts, or gastronomes seeking the flavourful and the appetizing, this establishment is not worth the trip. Drab stews, bilious liquors – and a venereal disease of your choice. Not so much ‘See Jiyyd on a shoestring’ as ‘See Jiyyd and get a tapeworm’. Not to be recommended. **Rats & Bats Restaurant, Jiyyd **** Tucked inside a cave system in the south-western corner of Jiyyd, only persistent travellers and those-in-the-know will find the Rats & Bats Restaurant. Having negotiated one’s way around wandering livestock, their ubiquitous pats - and at the request of local residents – please not trampling the crops – it was with a quiver of anticipation that your gastrognomes located the ghoulishly dubbed Rats & Bats. Guttering candles illuminate the cavern, warming the bare rock, while the air is aspice with atypical cooking aromas. The austere décor will primarily appeal to geological enthusiasts, mushroom connoisseurs and the robustly-bladdered, able to resist the siren squirt of constantly running water. However, the hazard that anything so pedestrian as a button mushroom strays onto one’s plate in this establishment is slight. Under the discerning eye of the owner, Ms Horbag Hurkink, who resides on the premises, Rats & Bats uses only locally-sourced, sustainably-cultivated and technically inedible ingredients. Presented in a brisk, no-nonsense style, the eclecticism of Ms Hurkink’s menu cannot fail to impress. Diced badger reposing in crispy shortcrust, crunchy bat wings flapping with blisteringly outspoken spices, and an enigmatic mystery meat lathered in gleaming spider sauce. We order a roasted rat to share, and a bowl of crispy bat wings. Delightfully, were able to select our rat of choice and observe its brutal slaughter and dismemberment moments before it arrived at our table. An awed silence enfolded the company when the rat arrived, lolling on a beany bed, its still-moving eyes begging to be devoured. The staff proved chirpy and accommodating when we sent the dish back, complaining that it was underdone, apologetically affirming the gnomish tradition that it is impolite to eat something while it was still – even partially - alive. Like the meal as a whole, the bat wings were fine but unexceptional - food that fulfils the promise of its surroundings. Sadly, the dessert choice is no choice at all. Perhaps Ms Hurkink might be prevailed upon to include a sugar-coated mouse or two on her bill of fare for sweet-toothed customers. The only major downside of Rats & Bats is that the food has a tendency to turn the customer green if they didn’t happen to racially begin in that fashion. Almost a hidden gem. Presently just hidden._
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  Magnus Fargrimm's Guide to Goblins.
  • Hellsgentlemen

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  Apoc's Request for help
  • Iria

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  Seriously Iria this is put into the wrong thread, hope a dm shifts it elsewhere for you , maybe into the rumour caravan. By the way you didn't state which day either. A specific date would be helpful please, thanks! :aww:
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  Where are all the old stories!?
  • Kerby

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  They must have left gypsy camp alone Kerby all the tales of the Great and of Lilith turning all emo and evil towards the end of her / my last time in here are still there… hope you find yours. I am still working on LIlith's book.. so I was glad to find a lot still around.. My new char Keesy can been found hanging aruond in Jyyid, mooning after Jerrick.. who she just found out is very much taken. Crush Crushed. -hugs you -
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  "I hate the name sorceress." A journal of Rhiannon
  • JerrickRafe

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  _Well it's been nearly a year since I've written. Too long, but time's whisked by in a blur, like dust pushed out the door by a broom. A flurry of noise and movement, then nothing. I've done a lot lately. Found a vampire, fought skeletons and zombies, beat up goblins, and played music for people, with varying results. One thing I have not done however, is seek out Calen. I guess I took it for granted that he'd show up like he always does, but he has not. I did see him in Norwick lately though, but he went right back to Jiyyd. Duty first. Fortifying Jiyyd and the like. He apparently thought I wanted nothing to do with him since I haven't actually gone and sought him out over the past few months… but he hasn't exactly found me either. I don't know what to think. I still like im and everything, and there's not anyone else... but, I don't know. Can I actually give him what he needs, or him me? I don't know what to think lately. I actually cried last night, until I fell asleep. I feel like a silly little girl. He wouldn't hold my hand walking to town, and that hurt. He kissed my hand when I left though... what the HELLS am I supposed to make of anything anymore? I don't know what to do now.... so I guess I'll just keep doing what I need to do. If he wants to see me, he knows how to find me. As for Me, some dwarf priest of beasts took trouble to another plane, where Trouble apparently met some God. He now glows when he's near this dwarf, some kind of protection I think. I guess it's a good thing, but I nearly lost it on the dwarf. I think I need to find some way to relax again, when even music isn't helping. Bathtime..._
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  Skullduggery of a Seedy Sneak
  • HalflingRogue

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  Life’s funny. More often “what th‘ hells” funny than “ha ha” funny. Pale blond hair blown back out of his face, Gears struggled through the snow towards the only landmark he’d been able to find: the crumbling base of a long ruined tower. Inside it two braziers flared orange and yellow, fueled by some unclear source, providing the only color in the bland landscape. The tower’s remains sat atop a hill, roofless; around it the snowy wasteland stretched as far as Gears could discern. He had wandered around for over an hour, trying to find some sign of civilization. But no smoke, path, or building greeted his eyes. None but the tower. Inside a throne sat. Gears had taken a seat on it when he had first found the tower, figuring it to be the logical next step to take in playing along with whatever power had brought him here. The wind had merely whistled through the crumbling rocks just the same as before. Frustration weighed on Gears as he trudged up the hill, occasionally slipping in the snow only to push himself back up until he reached the top. Warming his hands on the braziers’ flame, he looked around, brow furrowed. Something had brought him here. By magic, obviously. But why? Certainly not to freeze to death. Stepping out of the tower, he looked up and around, raising his voice against the ever-present wind. “Well? M’ here, now what th’ hells m’ I s’posed t’do? Heya! Whoever’s there, what m’ I supposed t’ bloody well DO?” As if on cue, a flame sproutied from the ground at the bottom of the hill. Startled, Gears’ eyes dropped towards it as it spread. In a moment it had formed the letter “F” in the common script, and kept on going. “F…I…N…D. Find? Find what? What m’ I s’posed t’ find?” Gears’ head jerked in all directions, trying to catch a glimpse of the writer. The snow kept visibility to a minimum however. The only response he received was the flames that had sprung up extinguishing themselves as quickly as they had appeared. The snow beneath them had not even melted. Gears sprinted down the hill towards where they had been, but there was nothing. Hitching his cloak closer against the wind, he growled and set off into the gray-white storm once more. Apparently there was something to find. The wind had gotten stronger by the time Gears had climbed up yet another sheer-faced hill, blowing the tail end of his cloak furiously around his ankles and driving the frigid snow into his face. He had been searching for a while now, but there was nothing remarkable. Nothing but more snow and cold. His frustration built to a head as he spoke loudly again. “If y’ want me t’ find somethin’ y’ doin’ a piss-poor job a’ guidin’ me t’ it! What m’ I lookin’ f’ out here? What m’ I s‘posed t’ find!?” No voice answered, but again a flame sprang up on the ground just in front of the cliff, and spread into familiar shapes. “S…E…L…” Gears blinked as the final letter was revealed. “Self? M’ s‘posed t’ find m’self? What, m’ on some kinda bloody self-discovery vision quest?” His derisive laughter was carried away by the wind almost as soon as it left his mouth. “S’ just dandy, but y’ know, I think I c’n ‘find m’ self’ back at th’ tower just’s well’s anywhere else.” The wind picked up to a gale as Gears struggled against it back to the tower. His cloak flew out of his hands and whipped about behind him as he tried to hold it closer. He gritted his teeth against the cold of the blizzard as it cut to his bones. And now…now he was certain he could hear voices on the wind. The same ones that had plagued his mind for a moment in Norwick. Now, as then, what they were saying was indecipherable. It was as if a room full of people where whispering different things all at once. He reached the hilltop whereupon sat the ancient wreck of the building and tried to gain some warmth from the braziers' fire. Looking angrily out at the storm which was now howling through the stones around him, he yelled out the empty doorway. “Aright, m’ s’posed t’ find m’ self! How’s me freezin’ t’ death help me accomplish that? M’ right here an’ I know perfectly well who I m’!” It occurred to Gears that this may have been an incorrect answer as a dark, clawed hand shot to where his head had just been.
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  Gabriels Letters
  • TheLittleGuy

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  _Gabriel, I can only assume that you have taken this peasents job at the inn cleaning floors in order to somehow reminess on your early days within the temple. Fine, fine do as you will for now, however donot let this job interfear with the objective. Ressume your training in the art for your services will be called upon shortly. Speak to the clergy so they may understand what it is we are trying to achieve, and make sure my garbs and room is ready when i arrive, or you can expect a taste of my temper child! Mother_
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  Bagnar's Guide to Monsters
  • Oddba11

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