Tales By The Fire

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  Scarred Flesh and Life
  • RedMenace

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  Nothing has changed yet everything is different. I do the same things, go through the same motions, but now do so with an added layer of listlessness. I awaken and find no reason to get out of bed. I stand by my door and see no reason to leave my tower. With Durion avenged there is little reason for me to do anything. Every time I look at her all I can see is my failure. She tells me was is not my fault, she is too kind. It was my crusade that led her there, my hubris that caused that battle and my weakness that let it happen. It was my fault. Previously I wrote that my greatest fear is fire. I have had the epiphany that that is not true, it is people that frighten me the most. When living in the wild there are many things that can harm you. Bears, wolves, monsters even some plants. These things are dealt with simply, you either avoid them, ward them away or kill them. When interacting within a society however the only thing that can harm you is people. People can harm you through their negligence, people can harm you through their incompetence, people can harm you through malevolence. Mugged on the street, tripped while walking, poisoned by a mixing accident, crushed by a construction mishandling, all the actions of people. People can also harm you in ways the wild cannot, through words they do not realize cut deeper than they do, or words said specifically to put down. Then there is the unavoidable fact that I myself am a person and that I sometimes wish myself harm. I do not like scaring myself.
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  Ethuil - path of a pure archer
  • Maverick_tO

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  One wild wolf is one too many. But this one is a relatively short story. Most of the elven outpost was out on an orc hunt, but sufficient enough defenses in case of a full attack. There was a disturbance out in the woods near a small plot of berry bushes. I was sent out as a scout to identify the issue. Turned out to be a wild wolf having a go at one of our encampment's bunnies. The bunny staying out of reach with its fast speed was just getting angrier and angrier. Well.. I grabbed the attention of the the wolf with a well placed arrow just in front of it, an arrow with a spark of lightning. Not enough to hurt it if I accidentally hit it, but certainly enough to get its attention. Quickly followed up with making a lot of noise and running off into the woods. Darting this way and that to keep ahead of the wolf, I started whistling and looking for something the wolf might want to eat, further into the forest than our domesticated bunnies. Spotting a deer that had perked up and was looking to see if we were coming it's way. Drawing my bow on the run and placing a whistle-spot on the head of the deer I loosed a single arrow, dropping it. Keeping on the move from the wolf, I change direction and ran as fast as I could to the dead deer. Grabbing a thick branch and swinging myself up into the tree I was able to catch my breath and watch the wolf prowl around the tree before getting bored of me and feast on the fresh venison. I made a friend that day... Calming it with my whistling music enough to come down when it was full.
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  Dalton's Way
  • tpickles

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  A tin mug sailed just to the right of his head. "Ah, get away from those books. Never going to teach yer arse anythin." Calm and doe-eyed, the missed target raised from his desk and turned, "Yes father" which was more inserted as the assailant took a breath to continue with his verbal portion of the assault, "Need to get up out of this house, go off and do something! I'd been makin' axes by your age" A finger pointed steadily at the target while it's wielder swayed drunkenly, "and...usin' 'em too mind you! You've ever raised yer fists boy?" Scratching his head, "Well no father, I don't rea..." but was cut off by his father "Don't really do anything do ye Dalton!" The boy's face shifted towards a grimace. Glaring now at his father. He may not have done things out of the house but he had in books. He'd learned from those things without wasting all the time getting to and from that the writers had. He'd...a smack interrupted his thoughts "Always in there aren't ye? Come on out here with the rest of us. What's your move?" Dalton's brow lowered, "I'll join the order" which prompted "Ah those ones? Throwing fists and sticks ain't do nothing with an axe coming down on you. Bah, least it'd get your sorry arse out of my sight". His father then walking over to his spent ammo, picked the mug up, dusted it off and walked back towards a keg he kept in the corner of the room to make himself another drink.
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  Morgan's Journal
  • UnholyCalls

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  I saw Smoke. I guess I was expecting something more. For all his reputation, for all the chaos he caused, I suppose in my head the figure appeared larger than life. But the reality is he was just a man… well a man that was made of smoke and had a weird god complex but a man none the less. And while he put up a hell of a fight I couldn’t help but feel empty as he died, I’d never been wronged by Smoke. I’d been wronged by the people he’d wronged, maybe, but I’d never even met the man. And as they surrounded his limp, defeated body and butchered it, I wondered how it had reached that point. How did Smoke do it? Why? Well Isolde certainly rambled on about this and that, mistakes, obsessions. The man himself said it was for research, but I still don’t quite understand it. It still doesn’t make sense to me. By all accounts everything he did was… nonsensical. Why start a coup? Why turn some random person into an enchanted killer? Why anything that happened with the Silver Host? Well I guess it doesn’t matter. He’s dead, and soon enough, he’ll be forgotten. People forget, it seems, no matter how many times their lives are threatened. I can’t blame them for that, sometimes I wish I could forget. Now I don’t know where I stand, though I never particularly do. I don’t like the Autonomists, first I thought they were stupid, then I thought they had a point, then I realized they don’t. But I don’t particularly like the royalty either, the only thing I hear about the King is that he’s nice, which to me is a bland, rather uninspiring trait for a leader… is he at least good at ruling? Nobody ever tells me these things. Herald Fisher, well they say he’s good, but all I see is a man blinded by his own bloodline. I suppose I am overly cynical, or a prick, it depends on how you look at it and how eloquent you speak. At the end of the day I don’t have a place to stand. And I guess I no longer care. Smoke is dead, some mad diviner is out there and he’ll die too. There’s an old demonbinder skulking about and I don’t understand what he wants. There’s dragons, always fun, and a cult of dragon worshipers which is a nice thing to have as well. We’ve got some sort of… war? A war with a place I’ve never heard of before, it seems to be brewing, and a town got slaughtered. Surprisingly none of this bothers me as much as my sarcasm indicates it does, it’s all very normal. And I think that bothers me, that it doesn’t bother me. It feels like the threats never end. Well it’s not like I have much in me. If Helm doesn’t smite me for a sarcastic line gone too far, or some thug doesn’t shiv me in the back of a dock alley, I’ll be lucky if I can keep fighting for much longer. I’m tired, not exactly physically, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep going forward. It’s hard to find the drive to fight when you don’t care. It’s hard to stand for a cause when you start to lose interest in that cause the moment anyone in it speaks. It’s hard to defend a place you hate, and protect people who never wanted you to protect them. I wonder if I was a good guard. Probably not. I think I was an asshole, I think I still am, I will be until I die. I tried my best though, even when they made a mockery of the uniform I loved, even when they put some Defender above me. Even when the man who gave me hope turned out to be a lunatic whose “coy quirks” turned out to be insanity. I still tried, and that counts for something. Or maybe I’m just saying that because I have to hold on to the hope it counts for something. It’s true I probably tried for the wrong reasons, and I tried hard for the wrong thing, but I suppose one could argue it’s better than never trying… well… I don’t know. Maybe it’s not. I find it hard to remember all the people I’ve met in Narfell. There sure are a lot of them. They’re all pretty annoying, honestly, and some of them are downright nonsensical, but I suppose most of them are good people. Garen, he is an interesting fellow, I’ve never seen the place he hails from but if they’re all like him… well shit they probably don’t emote much. But he was willing to die in the place of another, and I respect that, it’s not an easy thing to do. Jonni… I don’t really understand why the Ceruleans hired a man who can’t use the Art but hells, I’ve seen stupider decisions, at least he seems to want to do the right thing. Sometimes I think that’s all you really need, a man who wants to do the right thing. On the surface Nate is a man I want to punch in the face, but he’s got depth to him I think. I think Nate plays a far bigger fool than he actually is and I think he’s far more observant and cunning than I gave him credit for. Or maybe I’m giving him too much credit. Either way I still want to punch him in the face. Who else? Erurk. Erurk is a psychopath, and he’s going to start eating children, mark my words… Erurk’ll be the death of us all. Speaking of psychopaths, Vick Blake is an oddity, I can say with confidence “Vick Blake is a good person” so long as I follow it up with “and also a really bad person.” But Vick, I think he defends the city in his own way. I mean I still wouldn’t let the guy house sit for me but… well. If Isolde gives one more overly dramatic speech I’m going to side with whoever we’ve come to kill, I’ve never seen someone so intent on making everything into a big deal. That’s bards for you I guess. But she’s a good person. Rey’s an idiot. That’s basically it. But again, at least she’s trying to do the right thing… I think. I don’t actually know now that I think about it. And I’m sure there are others I’m forgetting. Other heroes of Narfell and petty adventurers alike I’m forgetting, but whatever. I think they come and go, really. Well all in all I suppose I came to Peltarch because I wanted to do good. Have I done good? I guess it depends on who you ask, I certainly don’t feel like I’ve done anything, I’ve just been around when others have. And in a way I think that’s all Helm wanted me to do, right? To make sure what they wanted to do… is done. And to stop them being killed by some crazy cultist or demonic cube of slime. If I look it at like that I suppose I’m proud, I hope Helm is, because if he isn’t I’ve put a lot of effort into a particularly dead end, eh? Soon I’ll leave, I’m sure. There isn’t much of a place for me in Peltarch anymore, not because others haven’t tried to make a place for me, but because ultimately the place itself is something I cannot accept. And as things change, not often for the better in my eyes, I find myself straying further from the place I swore to protect. But I don’t think it’ll collapse just yet, soon maybe, but not just yet. Without me it’ll continue to exist, and it’ll continue to change. I don’t know how it’ll keep changing, and I fear the end result, but it’ll change no matter what. I hope something good comes from it. Soon I’ll leave… but for now, I suppose I’ll just take it one day at a time.
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  The Days of Autumn
  • Robyn

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  Aftermath Smoke is dead I could leave it at that I suppose, but such an important event in the city’s history should be remembered. The task force that went to the demi-plane worked well together. There were two groups. One main forced tasked with ferreting Smoke out and hunting him down, and the other to support them with magic to ensure he didn’t escape. Far Scouts, Defenders, Autonomists, and even former Silver Host were there. We all did our part and had our moments. Mine was making a clutch shot which knocked a deadly wand out of Smoke’s hand. The surprised and furious look on Smoke’s face will be forever in my memory. However, for me it’s not what happened during the mission. It’s what happened after that’s so important. For all the calamity, death, despair and sorrow that Smoke left in his wake, I can’t help but see all the good that’s happening around me. Don’t get me wrong. The lives that Smoke destroyed left a scar forever in Peltarch’s memory, but the healing is bringing the city together. Something that may not have been possible without the inflicted wounds in the first place. As a exited the Mermaid bringing two bottles of wine and enough meats, cheeses, and pastries to feed half a dozen people, I looked around me at the celebration. I saw Erurk talking to Tiller. His contribution and deeds finally making him King’s Guard. Berlinne and a former Silver Host knight named Laswell were regaling stories to a group of city guards. A group of armed Autonomists were celebrating with adventurers and defenders. All around me were the signs of unification, and I can’t help but think that without the tragedy of it all, that this kind of camaraderie would never have taken place. How ironic. I missed meeting the king and spent the remainder of the afternoon with Gom. The food was eaten. Two bottles of wine were drained. In as much detail as I could remember, I used spoons, forks, a half-eaten cheese pastry and two corks to provide an after-action detailed report. I knew that would be Gom’s thing and would help in his healing process too. Although his career will be forever tainted, I hope that someday that will heal too. As I was staggering home, I overheard General Del’Rosa announcing his retirement and that Williams will be taking his place. Rey will be promoted to Captain. I was in such a state that I didn’t want the General to see me, but as I passed by I wondered if I would be promoted in their wake. I’m not sure how much it matters to me in the grand scheme of things. I don’t measure my success in rank, but in the joy of those around me.
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  Fabian, the Reinhard's Legacy
  • Preacher

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  Chapter 10 "It is easy to love your friend, but sometimes the hardest lesson to learn is to love your enemy." ― Sun Tzu, The Art of War ― A calm night. Gabriel walks around Peltrach’s alleys under a beautiful full moon. Ahead there is a shadowy figure standing still, as if waiting for him to approach. The young man stops. No particular reason. But a strange feeling, a warm and dark at the same time. A familiar one. The figure takes some steps ahead towards Gabriel. When passing under a torch lit spot the face of his big brother appears. Adrenaline rushes fully. He did not expect to meet with him like this. He would have planned it, bring the fight on his terms. A short moment of hesitation, then he bursts. Even like this, it is still a great opportunity to complete his task. Gabriel: Why you! Fabian...! You murderer! Fabian does not move. He feels his pain and that hurts him even more. Gabriel: How could you!? YOU MONSTER! Mom and dad loved you! I loved you! I didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye to them damn you! His vision is blurred, the blonde warrior unsheathes his bastard sword and is about to charge. At that very moment, right before he takes a single step he freezes. He cannot move, something is wrong. He turns his gaze around trying to figure out what’s happening. He realizes he is paralyzed by magic. Fabian approaches him and stands a few steps away. First time since 20 years ago. Only this time instead of playing catch at the garden with Fabian, he has to fight a monster. Fabian: Why don’t you tell them yourself Gabriel? Gabriel gasps at the hearing, trying to understand but then he bursts again. Gabriel: What the hell are you talking about you-you, YOU SHIT!? They’re gone! I saw it with my own eyes. You carving the blade through mother’s chest... Fabian: I don’t expect you to trust me. But the truth is mom and dad are alive and I am going back home to save them. They were always alive. We... no, you were fooled... All this time they have been imprisoned by some people who seek greater power in Impiltur. Our family just happened to be in position of power, a leverage for them if you wish. Gabriel: Why should I believe you? Give me a reason... Fabian: Take a closer look around you Gabriel. If I wanted you dead don’t you think I would have done it by now..? Fabian blinked saddened at this thought. Gabriel noticing this weird reaction from Fabian, looks around to notice his group of mages having surrounded him. But it is not enough reason. No, after what Fabian had done. Gabriel: NO! I know scums like you brother... It’s not possible. You sure have some kind of those genius "master-plans" of yours, huh? What is it this time? Make me go back and fight my Order and then kill me? Huh...? Tell me! Fabian realizes Gabriel won’t reason with the chance of a change of character, of faith alone. At that moment he gets more serious, hoping to shake Gabriel’s mind. Fabian: I will ask you a single question brother. Then it is up to your judging how the future of our parents and our people will change. If there is this little, tiny chance I for once telling the truth and our parents are alive, would you make a leap of faith and help me save them or you would give in to your hate and let them die? Gabriel was surprised by Fabian’s question. A fight inside him takes place. Instinct against justice. /It cannot be right… Something is off… Why do I feel like he is telling the truth? He can’t. He killed them. But still, something is off… What if they are still alive…? / Fabian notices Gabriel’s behavior and signals the mage who has paralyzed him, to end the spell. Gabriel moves instinctively with a blurred vision and draws a vertical scar along Fabian’s left eye. Fabian’s luck states present once again. Even though the slashing was not successful, it was enough to mark his face forever. But it matters not. Not now with how their lives have come to be… Fabian eyes Gabriel and nods. Fabian: Now it is up to you. Here and now you hold our future in your hands. You choose. I die and you earn peace of mind or you take that leap of faith one last time... Gabriel shakes his head disappointed by how their meeting goes and points the tip of his blade at the dark haired monster, still. Gabriel: Very well. I will take this leap of faith /brother/... But rest assured. Either saving our parents or not you will die by my hand in the end... I am not buying this change of yours you claim. I know very well how good of an actor you are... Fabian: A fair deal Gabriel. Thank you for bearing with my presence still. I will make sure to not let this chance go in waste... With that said we have to plan our next moves. And train as well. Both of us must get stronger. We will only have a single shot against them. They are not the type that you can take by surprise that easily. Not to mention they will be waiting for us... Gabriel: Train along with you? Heh, that would sound like a joke for a long time now... Hmm... Actually it is not a bad idea brother... I /apologize/ in advance for any wounds or rough behavior I may demonstrate during our training… Hurting you in training is not my intention... Lead the way Fabian. They exchanged an amused glance as Gabriel said and left to rest. The following day would be a new start, even temporary...
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  Diary of a Life Reborn
  • Kallethen

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  Entry 81 Hello Lorie, Sorry for not writing in this diary for a while. I left it at your Leena's house when I got hit with wanderlust again. I keep thinking that I should bring it with me, but at the same time I feel that leaving the diary behind gives me another reason to come back home. I mean besides my friends and family. I arrived back to Narfell and by luck it happened to be a happy occasion. It happened that I was just in time to attend the wedding of Nate Windgate and Isolde Garibaldi. The pair make quite a lovely bardic couple. Their vows were wonderful songs sung to each other. And the cake! I have never seen such a masterpiece before. It defied gravity, I tell you. The one downside was that seeing the happy couple made me feel a bit melancholic again. Another happy couple. Yeah, it makes me think of the early days when I was with Andu. Or the intense nights spent with Kiana. And especially sitting on the cliff with Thorn. Even though Thorn and I weren't a couple, I still wish we were. I'm on my own in the end. Oh, I know, I'm not truly alone. I've got Leena, and Tojan, and the Circle, and friends. But still. It'd be nice to have that burning love again. To feel that sense of wholeness from being with special someone. I suppose I need to stop with the wanderlust first though. Good night, Lorie. Give Jerrick a hug from me.
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  Roy Bin
  • IFC

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  ENTRY 8 – WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU DON’T KNOW THE FUTURE I finally met an adventurer interested in the ongoings of Norwick. He was siting by the south fire when I arrived late at night. Said he was waiting for the sun to raise so he could patrol the woods. His name is Silver, a paladin of Torm. A nice dwarf, contrary to the popular opinion regarding them. I offered to help him, since this could be an opportunity to see what lies after the village’s walls. All went well. We found little resistance. I mean.... he found little resistance, since he seems to be a more than capable warrior. I did try not to get on his way and was successful at that. Chauntea’s blessings were also very useful in this expedition and so was my bow. Grandpa would be proud of some shots I took. At the end of it, I gathered enough coin to buy myself a decent sword. During our conversation, he mentioned that the undead still roam around the graveyard area and that there are vampires there. From what I remember, that was always a problematic place and I think it would be good to know what lurks around there. I am planning on exploring those crypts in the future. I cannot help the people if I don’t know to what dangers they are exposed. But this must be done with proper preparation. I don’t want to be caught off guard in a place like that. That’s why I travelled to Peltarch to buy some supplies. I also learned that the Creel situation was dealt with. Not sure how, but from what I gathered, that problem is over. However, I have a feeling that new ones will present themselves. Since the future in uncertain, all I can do is be prepared.
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  Jasmine - Letters Home
  • Robyn

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  Dear mother and father, I have shed more blood in these past few weeks than all the past few years combined. The city farmers are plagued with kobolds that raid their stores and gardens. I’ve slain many, though it astounds me the coins each of them has. It’s almost as if there were a large hoard buried somewhere, and they had divided it amongst their countless numbers. I’ve had the honor of traveling a few times with Erurk the Mighty, a large half orc with a large blade able to slay giants. He’s on quest to rid the city of its giant foes to prove his worth as a potential member of the King’s Guard. Although my assistance was meager, the honor to aid such a worthy man is great. And finally, it’s with no small measure of pride that I announce to you that I was accepted into the city guard. I put in my application with references from House Byron, and after short stint to assess my martial skills, I was accepted. I meet at their headquarters in the next ten day to receive my equipment and orders. Please give thanks to grandfather for his encouragement he offered me and the training he arranged with master Ty. I will be forever grateful. Duty, service and honor! Love, Jasmine
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  The Long Walk, a Black Lion's Tale.
  • JerrickRafe

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  Just like that, I'm back in it. I'm home, and while there's surely good news about, the rumors I had heard bits of were not only true, but under-exagerrated, of all things! It appears Holmsmeade, the one I met with ever-so-briefly before I left, is quite dead. He survived one nasty encounter with summoned fire-beasties that devoured almost all of his force, only to be waylaid by Crimson Spikes. Somehow, I find that incredibly doubtful. There's some 'adventurer-killer' still on the loose. He seems to have a special hate for those that were pitted against the Silver Host, so I'll probably be fine if we come across him, but can I leave someone alone who's out trying to kill my friends and comrades? I get justice for the fallen, but where does that line end? I'm almost hoping to run into him, but he sounds like he might be way more than a match for me. Speaking of matches, apparently what happens when you mix the saliva of Aoth, Karrick, Atel, and Me ... creates a clone-thing of all four of us blended together into a nearly unstoppable killing machine, that is also capable of mind magics, and oh yeah, has bloody wings. I mean, once it's paired with a gnome and 'science' apparently. It seems that his offer of being able to tell our ancestral past from such a sample, is used to create clones with said memory, which they speak, and then are ... disposed of. We REALLY should have asked before trusting it, but it seemed like a lark, and I had just returned, so why not? Right? We found it after it had killed two farmhands, and tried to reason with it, before Atel decided that reason was NOT the way, and hit it with some magic. Or, tried to. Which didn't go well. It took us on, and if I wasn't fully defending myself, was harming me -real- easily, with just claws. Just when I was starting to get the upper hand, it crouched, and took to the sky. Karrick can't really 'fly', but he did say he could glide, so I tossed down my sword, cupped my hands, and shouted for Karrick to jump from my hands. Karrick is a big guy, but he's either surprisingly light, or my Roar to the Lion was heard, because I heaved with all my might, and Karrick disappeared into the clouds. Oops? I mean, that's what I meant to do, after all. Give him some altitude, so he could go breathe some fire on that idiot, give him the chop, and use his experience with the wings that this newly born thing may not have had time to really master, and bring him down to us. Easy, right? Well, it started raining blood, and it turned out to be Karrick's, as he spiraled to the ground, one wing fluttering uselessly. I caught him, kinda ... more like broke his fall with ... well, me, and we both lived through it, but his wing was ... IS torn up, even after Aoth's regeneration magic. He's understandably mad at me, but really, he didn't HAVE to jump. I just offered him a way to go prove his dominance up there. Just, wish it had worked out that way. We rested and regrouped, Atel left after some disagreement when some kid tried to claim he was gonna murder Rey with a stick, and Aoth managed to tree-walk us after where the bugger went ... a snowy island further down the Icelace. There, we took it on again, and ended up defeating it, but not easily, and no truce or sparing was to be had. Autumn gave it the final shot, and I the final chop, and that was the end of -that-. Until we went wandering in search of a boat, far from home. It was then, that we met a halforc. A ranger, and a pathfinder, it seems ... who in exchange for gold and items of worth, would lead us home a 'secret' way. The better the payment, the rarer the path ... which ended up leading us to a fey wood, with puzzles, challenges, illusions, and finally a tower of Dobudaga the Mad, who it appears has multiple towers with random things in them, specifically to trap and kill adventurers. Charming, right? Isolde seemed to know him, and tried to convince him otherwise, to little effect, til he realized we only took a box labeled "Supplies" which he didn't seem to give a damn about, as we retreated. Did I mention we were walking UP said tower to get in? There was a path we were walking before that, that twisted as you walked, and you never seemed to get any close, but it made me dizzy. I closed my eyes while I walked, hoping to feel less sick, and a moment after I did ... doorknob. I walked right into it, and upon opening it, got us all through. So, with that knowledge, we walked back DOWN the tower easily enough, and got the HELL out of there. The way there was fraught with peril that we thankfully didn't have to take on a second time. Talking stone faces we had to be clever at to pass, (They liked my joke about rocks!), A Giant construct we had to defeat, even a riddle, which ... even more weird, I was able to solve. I didn't figure myself the clever one in the group, but it was certainly my lucky day! Speaking of lucky, one of the 'supplies' we got was a stone that aids in enchantments ... so I think I'll enchant my wedding ring. I plan on wearing it all the time anyway, so it seems appropriate. Anyway, I saw Fisher too, spoke to the new "voice" Kathea, and spoke to Autmn and a few others faces since being back, but the highlight there was that Jane finally got back to me, and managed to snag one of those apartments for me! Don't get me wrong, the Bottlenecks are shady as hell, but the apartment is surprisingly nice! So, now I have a place to put my stuff, a private place to lay my head, and I'm less likely to get stabbed in my sleep while snoozing at the inn. Overall, a rather disturbing return, but one that I think I can make myself a list for, and see if I can right some of the wrongs that occurred since I got back. Get the armors and stuff from Gnarl and Alvi Get my old gear from Norwick Get this stone enchanted in something before I lose it Get my Wedding Gift from Atel enchanted with mind protections. Oh yeah, mind protections. I met some , I think the word Vick used was "Psionic" creature in the Underdark, hard to kill and made a noise that put Vick on his face before we even saw it ... as it was snacking on a Kuo Toa priestess that Carol seemed fond of. That was grisly, but the beast was horrible. I don't have a name for it yet, unlike the things that came after, which Carol called "Ineffable Horrors." I put down three of them, but Carol said they 'weren't even the big ones' ... which seemed like our cue to leave. Which we did. Quickly. At least we made some coin ... which is for the best. Rent is EXPENSIVE. Alright, enough rambling on a page for now. I'll hang onto this list, and see if I can make some sense of this poor city.
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  Journal of Linus Loreweaver
  • metagod

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  Entry 7 I have been out again to the Kobolds swamps. This time I think I fared a little better as I was able to reach and defeat a few lizardmen. I hadn't intended on engaging them but when they saw me and attacked I had to defend myself. I was able to purchase a new shield when I returned as well as a Belt that I can use to enchant at a later time. I bought a pair of swords as well from Blue, one with an enhancement enchanted on it and another made of Silver again to use for enchanting at a later date. I feel like I am getting more accustomed to the land and the people. There are a few that I am not so sure I should be travelling with but I feel like this will be a challenge from the Red Knight to teach them better tactics in dealing with threats. A while ago I heard of a great evil that had taken hold in the Norwick Deeper Tombs. I gathered a group of adventurers and went to cleans the place. It was quite challenging for me but with the aid of others we were able to overcome the threats. We found a very large beholder necromancer that was performing some ritual in there and it took a long time to defeat it but we managed and then we destroyed all the ritual effigies that were around. On the way out Blue decided to go alone and try to push further in despite warnings from the rest of the group, I chose to stay behind along with Yavie to go and make sure she was ok. We found her and were able to convince her to leave but not before the dead began to rise again. We were outnumbered and overwhelmed. I tried fighting as many as I could to try and distract them long enough to get out but I was unsuccessful and I fell. It seemed they were saved by someone known as the 'Adventurer Killer", I was brought back by him as well even though I have heard he was a mass murderer. I was too groggy to focus on him to see if his heart was tainted or not and he left. His interdiction gave us the time we needed to escape.
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  "Finding a Balance of sorts" - A journal of Leena
  • JerrickRafe

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  I'm playing Wizard Chess in the dark. Every time I think I'm getting close to the source, that new taint, the buildup of whatever is going to bring the Balrog back, it fades like mist between my grasping fingers. I've begun returning to Peltarch to hang out and see who's doing what, in hopes of tempting it out with my absence, however temporary, or learning what others may have seen and heard. Frankly, it's been getting on my nerves. Is he just playing the long con, making me stress out thinking he has a way to come back early, so that he can torment me the entire 100 years he's banished? Or is he a real threat? Either way isn't good, but I'd prefer him just being gone, even if that means he can keep trying to mess with me from beyond the veil. Of course, I know it's coming back. The Spirit of the Rawlins said so, so at this point, I'm just daydreaming. Unlike my last jaunt to a Dreamscape, which was clearly slightly more than a dream. I don't know what possessed me, but after a brief meeting with a member of the long-defunct Phoenix Guild, I went on an adventure prompted by the notorious Derek Underhill. At this point, why not, right? We succeeded in being "Entertainers" in a strange place full of doors, where I danced a waltz with a strange Tiger-faced man, we delivered scones to a grumpy dragon, too. It was rather bizarre, all told, but then we walked into a room where Mielikki herself stood. She told me that the time for Secrets and Distrust is past, to accept aid, and that she loved me. I know it's not the "Randy deity 'visiting' mortals" kind of love, she meant. It's the love a creator has for their creations, the love a parent has for their children. A love and respect and affection kind of love. I almost burst into tears on the spot. Awkward. It makes sense that a God or Goddess can make their presence known very easily in a dreamscape. Whatever rules govern when and how often they can appear, speak, influence, and still keep that tenuous balance between the other Gods, apparently left enough room to send a very potent message to me, and the rest of us, so I suppose it's right that I extend the hand of peace to the Phoenix, let Aramuil's tainted legacy no longer represent my feelings on the group, and join forces to help combat the things to come. Osprey filled me in on their charter, as a measure of good faith, too. I don't think I'll be able to join such an organization, for reasons of my own, but that's a life a Druid is used to anyway. We have our calling. I'll go visit their chapter house soon. There's some introductions to be made, I think.
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  A Squires Tale
  • Scout-Hen

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  The Underdark It has not been long since my last entry, I realize that perhaps I live a life that most would consider dangerous but I find myself in wonder and worry of what evil is to be found. Today Unen, Blue, Vick and I ventured deep into the underdark at first on a regular spell crystal gathering trip, however, it turned into much more. The deeper we went the more we found the underdark is is much larger than any of us knew and I admit I was lost perhaps once or twice in the whoel adventure. For the most part I found the adventure rather thrilling though it had its points where we all felt a little scared, for instance when Unen was ambushed by three drow, that was a less than ideal situation. The next being that I believe we found the proverbial 'front door' to the drow city and I must admit although I am keen to rid the evil A whole city... perhaps is more than we can chew. We turned back while we could still after a few more skirmishes with the drow only to run into a very large Vrock. It apeared to be in command? Leading? Matriarch? of a large pack of Hooks, we had to dig in for a fight and we all performed rather well. Blue has excellent speed and with Unens singing and vicks arrows I know that I can drop my guard to assist in a quick dispatch of the danger. Perhaps the most dangerous however was an abnormally strong drow that seemed to be prowling the underdark for... trouble, I believe perhaps we where fated to meet on a narrow road. He was clearly evil, and was clearly looking for us to concede out position for him however I would not have any of it. On the basis that he was not out to kill any goodly folk I was for a moment willing to let him pass if he conceded instead however it was not to be, seconds later Unen surprised me, he made the correct call but it was not one I expected. He quickly let out a war song and said 'Go', I did not miss my chance and immediately engaged however the fight was a brutal one. I can say that we nearly all died as this drow was... strong, smart, and clearly had experience in fighting prepared to lose everyone to gain it all. It lets me realize something, though I am sturdy I am not enough to protect them as I want to I have much to learn and more to gain so that I can truly protect my friends. It's the second time I've faltered against those of evil heart in to short a time, Scott Grimm won our duel rather handily and now this Drow nearly killed me and my friends... It gives me much to think about, much to improve. At the same time I have come to realize unlike both Scott and this Drow I have true friends who will stick with me in the fight I realize this now that I do not need to fight evil alone. I have friends, allies, and my faith to help me in my quest, perhaps this is what I needed to learn. That I am not alone.
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  A Proudfeet tale
  • rei_jin

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  ~Entry 29 - A new beginning~ Since I last wrote, things have moved at pace. Reyhenna and Vick spearheaded a "cleansing" of Peltarch. Removing all those who oppose the crown, putting the enemies of the King and all who are associated with them in gaol. Smoke and a few others escaped, but at least I know that they're no longer within the system. I know Vick taught me to not be a hero, but he's very good at ignoring his own advice. And I'm glad he did. That sort of thing is someone else's problem for the moment. Definitely not mine. Instead, I've been out testing myself. Made it through the nexus all the way to Avalon, and back again. Pushed through the Underdark to get as deep as possible. Fought my way to the Elemental Plane of Earth, deep under the Bugbear mines, past the monstrous spiders. I've heard of a maze full of Minotaurs... it's on the list. And apparently there's a portal to the Elemental Plane of Fire, up past the ogres on the Icelace Beach. It's on the list now too. I want to go over the Orc Bridge, the bridge that everyone says no-one can cross. I want to fight my way to the centre of the Illithid city, and crush the Elder Brain. And I want to climb the spire of the Lost City, and scream my name from the top of it. This is my new beginning. A home will come, and it will be glorious. But first, I will secure my immortality through being the best Hin Fist monk to ever walk this realm.
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  Unen Alow - A Journal
  • Kwyn

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  I must admit dear journal, I'm not sure what is going on. I have of late been going on expeditions to far and scary places, and as such I have lost the thread of the story in our fair kingdom. It seems that things are slowly turning towards what has been suspected. Perhaps it is time to look for allies that are thinking the same thing. On Minotaurs, I am impressed at what they have built i must say, endless corridors, paths to nowhere, mind boggling directionless wandering. Put some sand and and a few drinks around and I call that a vacation. Honestly it was harrowing, but I am satisfied with the direction we have gone, I yearn to see the new and wild places in the lands, to gather what strength I can. I am happy to say our adventuring party is becoming a true group of friends, and look forward to where we go in the future. Anyways, journal, you keep it together while I'm gone out adventuring. unen nods and sets the journal down, and continues on the rug he is weaving in his room
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  Anthology of Mistakes - Hannibal's Path
  • SatansAdvisor

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  Hannibal whistles a simple repetitive tune quietly as he slowly walks through the farm town, taking in the sights, sounds and smells. Norwick was a pleasant place when it wasn't besieged. He smiles slightly to himself as he walks to the outskirts of town. Dressed in a simple tunic of faded grey, middle aged and with no discerning features, nobody noticed him. Just as he preferred. He was an average man, deserving of no recognition. He was not worth anybody's time, despite what they might think. His whistling stopped as he reached his destination - the remnants of a small cottage atop a hill. The cottage had burnt to the ground years ago, and nobody of any importance had lived there. The pain and suffering that had taken place here years ago had gone by completely unnoticed by any living soul. Hannibal's smile faded as he arrived, replaced by a slightly pained expression. With a gentle exhale of breath, he walks past the charred debris to the base of a sakura tree. It was blooming. And he never missed a bloom. Pale pink blossoms littered the ground like snow, and Hannibal sat down amongst them, his back to the base of the tree. Leaning his head to rest against the smooth trunk of the tree, he let out a somewhat ragged breath and slid his worn journal from his pack. He picked up a blossom and twirled it between his fingers before placing it between pages in the journal. Taking up his quill, he began to write on the nearest fresh page. "I too often find myself alone with my thoughts. Years have gone by since I was able to put them to paper or a listening ear. A true shame, but so it goes. I must pick up where I left off those many years ago to truly put my life to paper. "I had escaped from a life of violence, only to find existence away from combat and strife too quiet. I was a combatant through and through. I had been trained to kill, both physically and mentally. I excelled at it and immersed myself in it. To my secret delight, I took to combat like a fish to water. It spoke to me, and gave me something to be proud of - something I had never had before. The emptiness I felt inside when I realized I would never again bet my life against another was soul crushing. I felt as if every emotion in me had been imprisoned, leaving a void in myself where there had once been a personality. I had taken the man I had become and tried to escape him because I feared where he would take me. I am not possessed of a particularly strong will, and it did not take me long to realize that I would waste away if I did not reopen that metaphorical box of caged emotions. I was nothing without who I had been. I fled the life of peace I had tried so hard to return to, much to the dissatisfaction of my family. I returned to those few friends I still had and we took every job we could find. The mission did not matter, and while we pretended we fought for coin, we really fought for the fight. The beast inside each of us was not satiated until we had fed it the adrenaline that comes with combat. A life of combat is unsustainable. War takes everything from those who give themselves to it. Every town and city from here to Waterdeep has the same seedy tavern full of mercenaries. Every war camp I have ever been to is full of them, too, and they come in every color. The young, smiling youths who eagerly await their first taste of combat, coins already spent on fresh gear and women. And, side by side with them, their future. Old, battered men who have given their entire existence to war - they are empty inside and will fight until they die. Their existence is meaningless, and they know it. But due to their decisions, they are doomed to follow battle until it ends them. Many of them die inside long before a blade finds their heart on the field. But do not weep for them, as that is how their story goes." Hannibal takes a break and rubs his stubble before returning to the page. "As years passed me by, I lived on the road and in those taverns. I gave my blade to anybody who would pay, and with it, my essence. Our actions, willing and unwilling, change who we are. I allowed myself to become consumed yet again by the emotions inside me that thirsted after fear, adrenaline and satisfaction. I came close to death many, many times. The medics patched me up each time, and my friends and I hid the rational fear a living being ought to experience after such behind laughter and stories. I was happy in my work, and I did not care who was harmed in it. I was a selfish man whose sole interest was the satisfaction I felt after giving myself to my basal instincts. And so I ended up in Narfell, under the employ of the Town of Norwick. They hired every mercenary who held still in those days, and my displayed lack of morals was just another attribute to my credit. Norwick changed my life more than any town has a right to, and I will always owe a large piece of who I am to it. All those years ago, while wearing Norwick's colors, I was struck down in battle. My first time. We always remember our first, or so I am told. Truth is, I only remember what happened afterwards. I awoke in a sandy desert at the feet of a tall man in a ruby robe. He looked down at me, and when I met his eyes I knew he was superior to me in every way. I sighed and awaited my fate. But when he spoke, it was not the cruelty I expected and deserved. He simply asked me what my deepest desire was. Keeled over in the sand with the King of the Nine as my only company, I finally experienced the quietness my mind never granted me in life. I had given everything to my lust for violence, and only in death did the urges subside. I was at peace, finally. It felt extraordinary, freeing and as akin to true liberation as anything I had ever felt. I no longer had any reasons to do anything. I had been absolved of any responsibility and all consequence. It felt undeserved. I was not a man who deserved peace in death. I met Asmodeus eyes and asked him what he meant. He knew, just as I did, that I had no desire. I was a shell of a man. An empty husk that hid from responsibility on the battlefield and gave in to basal wants. The archdevil shrugged his shoulders and told me that I was the type of man that deserved to be on the mortal plane. He said he would send me there with anything I pleased, in exchange for a favor. I looked around the endless expanse of sand and took his offer. I had seen death. I could always return. I had never walked the Realms with a favor from an archdevil in my pocket. Until then. I awoke in the Temple of Chauntea, thinking it had all been a dream. A much calmer dream than I usually had, but a dream all the same. I no longer felt the urge to throw my life away though. I was resigned. Weary. As I collected myself and walked out, a child with red eyes stopped me and produced a bag of gold coins. He thrust them towards me and spoke in a quiet, yet even, tone. Remember our deal. Then he left. I had made a deal with the Lord of the Nine, and had been compensated well for it. My weariness subsided, replaced with an excitement I had not felt since childhood. Years went by once more, and I spent the coins as quickly as they would appear in my pockets. The fanciest armor and the best made weapons. I plied my services in Oscura, bounty hunting for the city. I figured I might as well break in my new possessions. I bought expensive rooms and worked for the foulest people in all of Narfell. I contracted for anybody who could afford me. Not because I missed violence anymore, but because I thirsted for gold. I had tasted power, and I wanted more. And I knew I could get it. I had found a new meaning in life." Hannibal places his quill on the bed of blossoms beneath him and closes his journal slowly. Placing it in his pack, he gathers his things quietly and efficiently before running his fingers through his hair and leaning his head against the trunk of the tree behind him. He takes a small flask from his belt and uncorks it. He brushes a few blossoms off a small, unadorned stone marker near the base of the tree and pours a small amount of liquid from the flask onto the ground before taking a swig for himself. After swallowing, he scowls and leans back against the tree, closing his eyes in the remaining afternoon warmth.
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  Item Enchantment - Master Storm Dove for Blue Sparrow III
  • Kerby

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  For Safe Keeping.
  • Dragon Sai

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  The Story of Thorin Goldenaxe
  • Preacher

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  Two days later… The blunt side of the axe finds the knocked on the ground Thorin on the shoulder while he still strives to avoid any more brutal swings from the enraged Duergar. The other dwarves are being pushed back as well. Doigan is pinned down while fighting against two of them and Dafur is being kept busy by their on-guard leader. The young priest of Clangeddin is among the weakest when it comes to melee fight. He is more suited in a supportive role. The Duergar has seen through it and manages one more brutal hit through Thorin’s torso. The beardling loses consciousness on his own pool of blood. The Duergar cracks a bloodied smile and heads towards help finishing the rest. Not long after, three more dwarves fall too and couple of Duergars as well. While in the heat of battle, Dafur and the Duergar leader measure each other’s strength. Intense moment of gaze battle draws eyes on them. Both know that their fight outcome will play a crucial role on the mine control… Duergar cracks a small grin, like stating meaningfully that Dafur is weak. Dafur doesn’t give in and stands firm as always. He fears death not. In front of him stands the one who killed his brother. Duergar’s death is the only compensation… The Duergar glares at him flatly and intensely. Dafur knows that the slightest mistake means his own death, and in turn his brothers as well. “So you‘re the fark who killed my brother, huh? Not sure how you made it . . . You bribed Tymora perhaps . . .?” Dafur said mockingly as he looked him up and down. He knew the importance of the mental games in a fight more than enough in his 420 years of life. Countless foes had fallen while trying to kill him. Not once had he ever fell unconscious in battle. Doigan was gifted with his father’s toughness as well. “. . . Why don’t you come and see for yourself pig head? Your brother had the same confidence before I run my blade through his heart . . .” Duergar responded in similar manner. He sounds like a war veteran as well. Such threats seem to be a joke for him, obviously being a warrior who has nothing more to prove. Dafur realizes it may actually come to who has the strongest will, and stubbornness perhaps. Oddly it is the first time he is sweaty. Gargon Bloodbeard his name, an infamous being who will not hesitate to “sacrifice” his brethren in the name of the greater purpose… Dafur has heard of his deeds, he is not intending of dropping his guard. The two dwarves approach each other slowly, carefully. They measure each other for a long moment. Bloodbeard lower his axe almost to the ground and cracks a grin. Dafur hesitates for a moment but he takes the initiative. Bloodbeard rises his blade defensively after shoving the dust and on blocking Dafur, he manages to blind Dafur momentarily, allowing him in turn to slash him partly along his right bicep. Dafur though is fond of being pushed back and keeps pressing with an impressive focus. His hammer moves insanely fast and manages to reach Duergar’s helm, making him lose balance. Bloodbeard chuckles a bit and responds with similar speed, but stronger… He manages one more brutal hit along Dafur’s right leg this time and drop him down. Dafur feels the pain, but won’t give up. He has more than a few reasons more than anyone to kill Bloodbeard. As the Duergar is close to him, he lets his shield and grabs Bloodbeard’s axe. “There is a reason why Moradin’s children are feared in battle the most...” He cracks a bloodied, bloodthirsty grin and bashes duergar’s head with his hammer, making Bloodbeard step clumsily lots of steps away before he falls on the ground. Dafur stands on his feet and spits some blood. He stands along the edge of the underground cliff but he has the advantage now. He stares at him for a moment while his opponent mumbles something that sounds like nonsense. “Bare this in what mind has left in you… Dwarves never give up. And death in battle is the greatest honor we can have… You already lost.” Saying that though gave time to Bloodbeard to chant some kind of prayer, something that moments ago sounded like nonsense. Suddenly a searing light pierces through Dafur, leaving him paralyzed, enough for him to drop his guard. That is when his opponent charges enraged and manages one more, even tougher slash. Dafur falls down on his knee, reaching his limits and swimming in his own blood. Bloodbeard won’t speak, instead he will crack a grin before the final blow. This time though it’s his time to feel the same searing light, leaving him on the ground as well. The left for dead young priest of Clangeddin on the far corner of the battlefield had found the strength to channel one last divine gift through his enemy, giving his father whatever opportunity he can against Bloodbeard. Now the battle turns to Dafur’s favor. Bloodbeard knows that and after a mutter he jumps off the cliff into the underground river… Shortly after the battle ended with the rest of the Duergar lying dead. Mission accomplished and the dwarves gained an important advantage around with this new mine. After some serious bandaging, Thorin raises and while his brethren cheer their victory he glances thoughtfully at the river. Bloodbeard was a most dangerous opponent…
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  Robyn's Whispers
  • Robyn

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  Legacy Yavie attacked with precision. Coupled with her ferocious speed and strength, I had to rely on every trick in my book to avoid getting hit. There was a degree of recklessness in the assaults, but most importantly she had finally learned to use the rapier has it was meant to be used. Gone was the influence of the heavy weapons training. It had been replaced by her own unique twist on my instruction. She would never be a master with it. That would require set of disciplines she wasn’t ready for. But the swordsman who broke through the lines thinking this archer would be easy prey would be in for a very rude surprise. I found myself near the edge of the stage and signaled her to stop. She looked at me puzzled for a moment, still no confidence in her own skill. Despite my usual demeanor recently, I found myself smiling. “Very well done”, I said. She blinked for a moment and beamed a smile in her inimitable fashion. I took the practice weapon from her, and packed it until my bag. She gathered her own gear, and balled her hair up in an unruly knot, fanning the sweat from her neck. “Same time tomorrow?”, she asked. I looked at her for several moments thoughtfully. I wish I had her near eternal youth, her unfettered spirit of adventure, her hope and idealism. I had many of those things, so very long ago. It was time to leave those things to a younger generation. “No”, I said, “We’re done. That was our last lesson” She looked bewildered and crestfallen. “Did I do something wrong?”, she said, almost in a panic. “No”, I replied with a smile, “You did everything right. There’s nothing left I’m going to teach you” She stood there looking directionless as I gathered my things. Then we stood there silently looking at each other. Finally, I spoke up. “Walk with me”, I said. We spent the rest of the day meandering through and outside the city. I told her everything. I told her of my love for a man I could never have. I told her about the house on the hill, with apple pies made for the adventurers who would visit. I told her of murders, retribution, and false justice. I described the ease of how anger can lead to darkness, sorrow and addiction. We walked the villages surrounding the city. I spoke of duty and honor, and the importance of fighting for people who couldn’t fight for themselves. I spoke of the importance of friendships and loyalty. Finally, I spoke of the sword. I told her of Livia, Vortelli and Donar, three inseparable adventurers who lived a very long time ago. I spoke of Donar’s death at the castle battlements, of Livia’s death at the hand of Drow, and Vortelli’s anguish and pledge of service. I spoke of the Tyr blessed blade, of Livia’s service within, and the celestial blessed duels for justice. I told of a very young woman named Robyn Jahnsdotter who received that blade and became bound to its service too, wielding justice in Tyr’s name. Hopes and dreams put aside for duty and service. At the end of the day I felt relieved. Unburdened. Yavie thanked and hugged me, and we went our separate ways. I hope she carries on my fight, and inspires others to do the same. My time here is at an end.