Tales By The Fire

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  Tales by the Fire XP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • Voight

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  Is this still a thing by any other DMs? If not, this should be deleted.
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  Summoner's Stories
  • Fraoch

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  Salute
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  Forums vs Wiki - Where to post.
  • morikahn

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  No one has replied

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  War Stories
  • Caoimh

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  The huge Peltarch Siege Ballista firing at enemy positions during the eastlander war:- "General Lavindo stood upon the platform, gazing back calmly at the already battered eastlander positions. He uttered four words… "Death to Peltarch's enemies". In a moment of firing the long hours of preparation and surprise was ready to be unleashed upon Peltarch's enemies, and in that moment the eastlander positions became as ash, weapons, bodies and the ground itself became as one. And death followed after..." Extract from the Memoirs of Barrim Asbravn.
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  Stories of Kanen Hightower
  • Kanen_Hightower

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  And what a mark, what a mark. To this day i still think of him and regrett that i didnt return to the servers when he still was alive. I hope i left half as much of of a mark on him as has left on me. I had to stop playing cause of RL though… can't bring myself to read the rest(the parts im not in) of it since i always planned having my toon return to the server and turn his life upside down again. :x :x :twisted: oh well once again i come here to pay my respects. Much love to all of u who ran this server and played with me while i was still hooked on this. Morgan Hearst, Attentus Vernet, Vinessa, arUlric... and many many more. It was and hopefully still is for all of you who still play. Pure Magic. love, Cila Denòere
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  The Days of Autumn
  • Robyn

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  A Little Bit of Awkward I started teaching Thyr’qara how to use the rapier the other day. I promised that I would meet her every other day on the tournament grounds, and thus far we’ve managed a few lessons. What’s entirely awkward about the situation is I know she really doesn’t want to learn what I am teaching her. She’s attends the lessons with punctuality. She’s on time. She takes to heart what I show her and goes through the motions of learning. But I can tell even after a few lessons that she will never incorporate what I’m showing her into the way she fights. So the question is, why the lessons? It could be boredom. It could be loneliness. Perhaps it’s a desire put a little bit of elegance and culture into her life because mastery of a rapier, unlike other weapons, tends to have that connotation. But she doesn’t want to master it. She just wants to understand it to pretend. Perhaps she thinks her gentlemen crush will be impressed? If he slept with her, he probably already knows who she is. Speaking of awkward, I was commanded by The Herald to attend a party. Isolde bought me a meadow dress or rather, what Peltarch culture thinks is a meadow dress (it’s not), and I went and felt completely out of place. Rey and Morgan got naked and enjoyed a hot tub with others. I drank too much and lost my emotional filter, which was embarrassing. It was a meeting between Royalists and Autonomists disguised as a party, and even today looking back on it, I am clueless why The Herald wanted me there. Yes, let’s throw a naïve shepherd girl with a singing sword in a room full of drunk people. That’ll produce diplomatic results!
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  Blue Raven's Journal
  • Kerby

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  I must thanks Selune tonight at the shrine for the reminder that I am suited better for the path of creation, than that of destruction. Helping the dwarves of Aura Runedar collect the coal and stone needed from the goblin mines is where I can do the most good. It is as straight a path as a beam of sunlight. Being able to head up a crew of dwarven miners... even with their joke of telling me that the dwarven phrase they nicknamed me wasn't beautiful legger... but donkey knockers, I must admit, had me laughing as hard as I ever have. What a picture we likely made, with all of the coal dust on us, the only things shining was the white teeth of our smiles. It is this rude nickname that made me realize it was their rough way of accepting me. Well... that and perhaps the cart of ale casks I had dropped at the edge of town to be tapped and drank by the coal mining crews returning with their loads.
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  Fabian, the Reinhard's Legacy
  • Preacher

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  Chapter 7 Hands tied He sits by the fire and stares quietly at the dancing flames that fade, exhaling slowly while various thoughts cross his mind. One of his attendants enter the room, bringing some bandages to care his burns before he gets some good rest. J: "That witch got you for good sir. She has turned into a threat it seems lately." F: "Don’t make me laugh Jonas. I find it hard to call her a threat… If you base your judge on some minor burns then you have a long way to go still." J: "Why did she attack you sir?" F: "She is obviously scared. I may have “exaggerated” a bit during some excursion… Why does it matter to you?" J: "Just curious sir. Nothing more." Fabian stared at him a moment before he changed a bandage. Jonas gulped just before he speaks again. J: "Then why don’t you just kill her? One mage less won’t hurt your reputation. Five years have passed since we came, and most of the people trust us." F: "You think she would still breathe if I wanted to? I promised Vladimir to at least not kill her. He thinks of her as an asset for our greater goal. He says she is a sheep that can serve well. I have my doubts still but I will go along his plans for now. Besides, he has more experience and connections still in this land. It is only beneficial for me to trust his strategic mind. Though Sharrans are not to be trusted, like Cyricists. In fact those two kinds must be slain at sight. Even their smell of fear is disgusting…" J: "Understood. What is the plan then?" F: "We stick to the same plan. Nothing changes. I will keep increasing my influence and when time is best we change course to find it. The “tools” I have gathered currently are not enough… But we are getting closer, I can feel it… Its power keeps increasing day by day." J: "Then we let the witch think she is safe for now i take it?" Fabian turned at him with a content face F: "You learn fast Jonas… Yes, let her be for now. In fact, get her out of your mind. She is of no value right now. Enough about witches. Any news from Gabriel?" J: "I am afraid not sir. His Order has been doing a good job keeping him out of our reach… Though commoners speak of a blond man lately. They say he has no manners and that he looks as if he is constantly looking for someone. The description they give matches Gabriel's. Could it be him?" F: "I have my doubts. He is a scared little boy. He wouldn’t be possibly thinking of avenging my parents at this moment. And Gabriel is surely a gentle kid, rudeness is a word that does not exist in his mind. Keep looking, he must be near." J: "As you wish sir. Have a good night." Jonas closed the door behind him as he walked away the room. Fabian thinks of a memory when they were kids with Gabriel and throws the glass of wine with anger into the fire with a muttering before he goes to bed.
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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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  Burning Scrolls - The Writings of Diadne
  • Robyn

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  The flames of the bonfire whipped merrily on the shore of The Scar. Diadne stood within, the lantern at her feet. The ceremonial clothing had long since burned away, and she stood with arms outstretched, fingers splayed, hair blowing in the fiery updraft. She looked up at nothing an onlooker could see. Her mouth was parted, and her eyes stared blankly into the heavens. Her irises glowed brightly with divine magic and despite the heat, her body shivered slightly. The flames took a form of their own, and Diadne was caressed by their touch. As the night settled across the land and the flames sputtered and died, Diadne collapsed to the ashes at her feet. Mirtul 6th The communes have become more … intimate as of late. They are soul bearing in ways difficult to put on paper. It’s as if my entire being is laid out before him. I no longer even feel the need to ask any questions. I find myself counting the days each week until the lantern is ready again. I have sacrificed certain physical pleasures for this, and I’m coming to realize how little I’ve actually given up. My life as a servant to the temple and courtesan in Thay are shadows of my current existence. However… Last month I was in Eltabbar, and a child ran up to me asking for coin. He looked at my holy symbol, regarded me innocently and said, “blessed be the flame which warms my house and cooks my food”, and held his hands out. I looked into those innocent eyes and dirt streaked face, and my heart went out to him … and then sank as I realized I would never have a child of my own. I could adopt. The orphanage of Peltarch is full of children looking for someone to call mother or father, but to stare into the eyes of your own flesh and blood has to be one of the greatest joys a parent could have. Yet, I never will.
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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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  Scarred Flesh and Life
  • RedMenace

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  When I was a child, I would spend much time fantasizing about my parents. Perhaps they were not the simple folk they seemed to be, perhaps my father was the long-lost scion of a noble elven house who fled his duty to be with my mother. Perhaps my mother was a powerful mage, who discarded her life of adventure and glory for a simple, peaceful life with the man she loved. I must admit this is something I still do, but it is tempered with the bitterness of wisdom. If they were truly old heroes, they would have lived. I find myself getting angrier more often and more easily. A Story. Once there was a foolish child who walked into the woods alone. She went deeper and deeper as the sky grew darker and darker. The child found this exhilarating, the sense of danger and adventure overwhelmed her sense of self preservation. Soon the child found her way to a wolf's den where she was beset and mauled to death. The child fed many wolf pups and gave them a taste for elven blood. This story is true. Despite my disillusionment with people I am endlessly fascinated by societies. What is it that makes people rally around rulers? Why is it that commoners happily remain on the bottom rung of the social ladder? I have come to believe that there is a comfort to it, not just with a sense of familiarity but also a belief in law. If all goes accordingly then commoners should feel secure, as the law discourages action that would find their simple common lives disrupted. I find it no surprise that the people who step out of the societal system show great disdain for the law. Others do not share my fascination. The people whose company I enjoy continues to dwindle and the people whose company I loathe continues to grow. I wonder if Sha’riel felt these things when I left. She must resent me for it. Once there was a foolish child who walked into the woods alone. She went deeper and deeper as the sky grew darker and darker. The child found this exhilarating, the sense of danger and adventure overwhelmed her sense of self preservation. Soon the child found her way to a wolf’s den where she was beset and mauled. A travelling hunter heard her scream and killed the wolf and saved the disfigured child's life. The wolf’s pups starved to death. This story is also true. Fear is a feeling I am accustomed too. I have many fears, anxieties that barrage my thoughts on a regular basis. There is none so crippling to me than my fear of fire. I remember very little of my life as a child, but the night I lost my arm remains as vivid and horrible in my mind as it was in the moment. I remember the pain of flame on my flesh, I remember the nauseating smell of my burns and I remember the screaming of my parents as they realized that there was no escape for them. I beat back these memories, do not dwell on them, I have made multiple mental exercises to distract myself from such things. But when I am surrounded by flame, when my nose is filled with the scent of burning, when no matter what I do I feel the heat against my skin, the memories return and I am unable to force them out.
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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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