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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  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 Making of a Battlemail Saga
  • ClownBaby

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  A Proudfeet tale
  • rei_jin

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  ~Entry 20 - The Great Staircase~ (I asked an artist at the college to paint this for me from memory, I think he did a good job!) The time had come. Things in the Underdark were getting really rough. There are these creatures, we call them "thralls". Some of them look like goblins, or hobgoblins, and a few look like orcs, or minotaurs, or even giants, but they do not behave like them. Magical abilities, toughness that I've never seen before, and a ferocity like a rabid dog without any ability for language... these mark the thralls. And they're spilling out of the deeper parts of the Underdark into the area where the umberhulks lair, near the Kuo-toa. It would not take much for them to move into that area, and, eventually, into Oscura or even to the surface. Vick and others had seen the movements, as had I. And we were concerned. So a trip was planned, and mounted. Joined by Vick, Shesarai, Diadne, Thau'lira, Syclya and Rubo, I led the way as we went to areas I had heard of, yet never seen before. The great staircase, it is called. I know if you follow it far enough, and don't lose your way, or your nerve, you can go from Oscura to Norwick, or back the other way. Nevermind the illithids along the way though... I took point. I've never taken point on such an important and dangerous mission. Spells were piled onto me, such that I've never felt so empowered before. And we needed every single one. Hostile magics flew through the air, axes and arrows used in anger against us... and deeper we went. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. After defeating what must have been the thirtieth or fortieth thrall (how many of these things are there?) we heard loud footsteps coming from below... a thrall giant! Tumbling about its feet, I was able to keep it from the others and, eventually, break its legs and snap its neck. But that was not the most dangerous foe. Far from it. The floor below contained a horror I have heard of before, but had not seen. A squid head. An illithid. A mindflayer. It blasted us with psionic energy, like a scream in our minds... but that was not enough to distract me. The damn thing seemed like it had coated itself in magic, so there was not much I could do to it, but dodge it? Punch it? You bet. The most satisfying moment of the entire trip, was when my fist hit its head hard enough that I heard its skull crack, its tentacles writhing one last time before it fell to the ground, dead. After we gathered ourselves, I looked through the next door... and saw that we were outclassed. Victory was possible, but only at too steep a cost, so I called the retreat, a call that Vick supported. We made our way out successfully, defeating even more thralls as we climbed, but we saw the light again, and were glad of it. But that trip... it unlocked something deep inside me, and I have crossed the threshold. The mastery that I have sought, of the way of the Hin Fist. I have it. I am ready for you now, Linam the Swift.
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  The Days of Autumn
  • Robyn

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  The Letter When the letter from The Court finally reached me, I was beyond excited. It arrived by courier from Spellweaver, and I tipped him well for his troubles. Then I opened the seal and read it. It started off well enough. It was written in my native tongue, and thanked me for telling them of Gaeleron’s downfall, and marking the location where he was buried. Being an Elder, they’re considering relocating him to a proper spot for his final resting place. A shallow rocky grave on the side of the Long Road does not befit a man of his life and service to his people. When I read the next section though, a cold knife slowly twisted in my stomach. The bottom line is that no, I would not be assigned another mentor. Whatever agreement and arrangements I and my family had with Gaeleron died with him. I was welcome to return home, apply for service to The Court, and perhaps when I’m older and have proved myself, future considerations may be forth coming. I was duly reminded that service as a Warden was only given to those of exceptional skill and ability, and few even out of the elite were chosen. I threw the letter into the fire. I’ll make my own destiny here in this cold land without them.
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  Dozer Mantleborne Correspondence
  • Kerby

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  Burning Scrolls - The Writings of Diadne
  • Robyn

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  Flamerule 28th Fenris and I encountered a dwarven gentleman named Ash yesterday. He was witnessing a wizard’s duel, and Kossuth chose to spare him. He was a survivor from the Dwarven Hold just north of Norwick. His wife and children were killed in the attack. He had nothing left and was likely content to die and see his family when the fireball came hurtling toward him. Instead he was spared, and was escorted to a Temple of Kossuth. There he pledged his faith. He chose to start his life anew rather than dwell of the losses of his past. What was just recently two, is now three. What I find curious and heartening is that he felt the need to be here. He felt drawn to this area, almost as if Kossuth guided him. Here I am looking to build a temple of stone, and Kossuth sends an old Dwarven builder to me. Which leads me to my next predicament … Who will head this temple? All temples of Kossuth are headed by a priest whose title is the Eternal Flame. I am not a priest. I don’t pray for power. Kossuth has given it to me, but it manifests itself as arcane. This is likely to be a sticking point with the other Eternal Flames who are going to push their own candidate to be the Eternal Flame here in Narfell. However, I am one of Kossuth’s Chosen, a Keeper of the Eternal Flame. This is irrefutable. Any priest of significant favor could cast a commune spell and be assured of this. Having a priest head the temple is tradition, but nothing in carved in stone saying this must be done. I am going to build this temple, and I will lead it. (the following is written a little later in the evening as an addendum to the journal entry) A divine spark was given to me many years ago. This manifests itself in two ways. The first is that it allows me to direct a divine flame. I don’t even have to cast it. I just will it to happen and it does. It drains me considerably and I can only do it once before resting, but I can do it. I’ve tried to use this spark to bless and heal others, but without success. It’s remarkably destructive in its nature. The second is that I have received power from the prayer of others. They have to be extremely devout for it to happen, but it does. I’m going to have to explore this further. Perhaps I will find answers at the ruined monastery.
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  The Many Paths - Garen's Notes
  • LustJaw

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  There were a number of adventurers lingering in the commons on the day this tale began. Kethro, Ting, Willow and finally the master craftsman Z. Folk have often spoke highly of the craftsman’s character and at the first mention of his need to find ore within the gnoll territory, all present offered assistance to his cause. I was keen on joining their efforts not only to observe them all in action, but I had at that point, not crossed blades with the dog men. Their fearsome reputation was often mentioned in hushed whispers, more so with the bodies of adventurers carried back from their wood. I was curious. As I was untested in his eyes, Z thought it best to detour his original route into the cave dwellings of the gnolls instead, so as to take my measure during the trip. I do not blame him for taking such precautions, as I am sure it was very much for my own safety as well as theirs. The failings of a single individual can mean dire consequences for the whole, especially in deathly hostile territory. -- In hindsight, the lone raven flying above head should have been an obvious omen for what was to come. It’s keen eyes tracking our movements through the woods and into the mouth of the pass, while we remained oblivious to its intent. As we gathered and prepared for a fight with the gnolls, a shadow loomed over us, extending from a large and brutish looking gnoll standing high upon the cliff edge. Tribal markings lined its face and body, and it looked down upon us in pure contempt. Without prompt, Ting immediately loosed several arrows into it, but it seemed to hardly notice the shafts sticking out from it’s thick fur. With a resounding bellow, it stomped a single clawed foot down upon the ground, with enough force to shatter the rockface below. Loose boulders and dirt came crashing down just before us, blocking off the route into its territory. Curiosity piqued, and perhaps with some measure of stubbornness to get at the ore that was now barred from us, we took a detour through the path towards the old gypsy camp. The lone raven above circling above head once more. The large gnoll awaited us as we neared the ruined gates of the path, standing on higher ground still. It swung its massive axe into the walls of the ruined structure, the decaying wood shuddering and finally splintering under the force of the singular blow. Wreckage blocked our path, denying us passage once more. There was talk at this juncture on whether we should once again attempt another route in, through the spider infested woods, but Willow was certain we could overcome the wreckage before us. She attempted to clamber up the large pile of rubble, but found herself tumbling back down, if somewhat harmlessly, due to her heavy armor. Some quick problem solving had Ting effortlessly climb the wreckage with her elven grace, anchoring a length of rope at the top, allowing us easier attempts at the climb. The small victory of overcoming this simple obstacle was cut short as a multitude of gnolls came charging at us, a mix of armored warriors and their younger ilk; teeth and claw bared. I grit my teeth, finding the nerve to charge forwards, shield at the ready to meet their weapons in close combat. Z matched my steps, the two of us making up the frontline of our little group. I leaned back just enough to avoid an axe swing aimed for my neck, teetering at the sudden change of balance, I swung my axe out instinctively, biting into the side of the gnoll warrior. Gripping hard into handle, I pulled the gnoll towards me, both to steady my footing, and for my enchanted shield to meet it in its face, sending it reeling backwards into its companions. That was a distraction enough for Kethro, who slipped out of the shadows to cut it down with a dervish of swings, his kamas simply an extension of his arms. The gnoll’s stunned companions followed quickly in death between Ting’s arrows and Z’s blade. -- The light had faded by the time we made it past the bulk of the gnolls and acidic fumes conjured by their leader. The canopy of the trees darkened, drowning out the last vestiges of light from the setting sun. A short distance away, the hulking form of the gnoll leader stood, backed by a tree filled with jet-black ravens, their countless eyes turning towards us in unison, glinting a menacing red. There was a wrongness to them and at the time we attributed it to demonic influences. How wrong we were. It raised it’s head towards the night sky and bellowed a deafening warcry. The ravens scattered in a whirlwind of feathers as the gnoll charged us. I met it in midstride, my shield arm raised before me. It was a practiced maneuver, I would be the distraction while my companions dealt the killing blows to its undefended flank. Graced with the enhanced strength and protections of Willow’s blessings, my enchanted shield held against the first blow, and the following one. Sparks showered across the forest floor as raw strength met magical force, neither giving into each other. Finding no satisfaction at striking metal, it made several attempts to run past me, ignoring the constant assault of Kethro’s and Z’s blades to make a beeline towards Ting and Willow. And at each attempt, it would again find me standing between it and my companions. Its frustration led to rage, and rage led to something all together alien. The tribal markings along its entire body flared a deep crimson, veins and muscles began to stretch and grow in sickly proportions. Tendrils of steam escaped it’s bared teeth as it looked down upon us, now standing 20 feet tall. Again, it swung it’s axe, and again, I attempted to block it with my shield. The shield held, my arm did not. I recall the pain vividly, the shattering of bone against the sheer weight of the monstrosity’s strength. My confidence wavered, Z calling for me to retreat, as they continued to press their attack on the gnoll. A second blow struck my shield, the pain dropping me to my knees. My vision swam as I feebly attempted to raise my shield in a desperate defense. A hand rested upon my shoulder, Willow’s. Healing energy poured through and into my shattered arm, mending and steadying my shield arm as the third blow came down. I grit my teeth through the familiar sensation of tearing muscle. It would be a race then, between my companions or the gnoll in dealing the death blow. -- The gnoll fell first. Ting sent a constant stream of arrows into it, to the point it was more pincushion than humanoid. Kethro found openings to tear into it and finally Z with his flaming blade, cutting burning chunks out of the gnoll. I had somehow survived the constant flurry of axe blows, mainly due to Willow’s guardianship. My shield arm still shook from the forces of the gnoll’s strikes, blissfully, the pain had dulled part ways into the race of survival, but now all was numb to the touch. With the death of the gnoll leader, the woods grew darker still as frost crept in. Snow began to fall as we hurried to start a fire and make camp. The smoke drew attention, this time of the better sort, as the familiar faces of fellow adventurers stepped out from the tree line to join us in our camp’s light. -- We would soon learn that the gnolls had worshipped something before the demonic influences had corrupted them. Something stronger and far older.
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  Ravenblade Sword Manual
  • RedMenace

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  Ambitions of a Would-Be Firelord
  • SuspectDuke

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  {{The Scene: A low burning brazier licks the last remnants of firewood, casting a dim light that bounces and reflects from the tents interior walls. A gentle plume of smoke wafts from a stick of incense that smolders on a make-shift desk, more a crate taken from the nearby bazaar. A stack of books rests tumultuously on one side towards the back, on the other a candle burned down to the last of it's wick and wax. The soft snores and sleep sounds of a half-nude giantess behind him, he bends his back and begins writing.}} I will begin; by writing that the following is a collection of the experiences, thoughts and investigations of the Firebrand, Fenris. They serve no more purpose than prosperity. Sitting by the north-wall of the tent that makes... for now, Aruhan and my home, I can hear the shouts and cries still echoing through the crisp twilight air, from the "Rant Stand" .... or so it has been called. I have my own thoughts on the current fear pressed into the cities mind, potential war fought with the orcs. I could write about the whisperings of Gruumsh and how Orckind can never be trusted nor bargained with due to that simple fact, however. There is a larger threat to come, one that little seem concerned of... or perhaps not concerned yet feel hopeless in the face of it, I know not. I have attached, to the bottom of this page, an excerpt from 'The Prophecies of Bask." A book I obtained from the Oscuran libraries. "The Herald Comes." These three words make sleep an impossible dream, a quandary that I cannot seem to crack, I know of the coming threat, and yet feel helpless in spite of it. I have sent envoys to the Wolves of Narfell, to the Drudic Circle of the Rawlinswood, hoping.... praying for any information that might grant us the edge against the coming darkness. As of yet... no word has returned to me, and so I flick through the prophecies, hoping for an explanation, perhaps one more detail that will prove the deadly chink in the plated armor of this plot. Aruhan has been a boon to me, I did not expect to find her in my arms, albeit after a steady stream of enchantments has been cast. But now she lays, beautiful in the flickering candlelight beside me. She has been an anchor in my quest, always keeping me from being lost at sea, whenever the trials and tribulation of this singular investigation prove too much. Although... some times I feel as if I am robbing the girl of true happiness... to be with a man she cannot touch, unless various and vigorous enchantments have been cast to protect her... to be with a man that is seven summers or more her elder. However I digress, the Herald and whatever blight may track his heels is the true threat, and I fear only the light of Kossuth's flame will keep the darkness at bay. The following is the attached excerpt from 'The Prophecies of Bask.' There will come a day, when the sun shall turn dark and the skies black. A blight will follow The Herald, the trapped shall be released and the hidden shall be revealed. This scourge will be so vile, that even Lady Talona herself will be threatened. {{There is a few scratched notes dotted beside the Prophecy... "Sky-Black...perhaps an Eclipse?" "The trapped shall be released..... Oscura maybe?" "Even Talona will be threatened... so it must be different than the blight nigh a century ago"
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  Leandro's Journal
  • Dermin_Lantaional

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  So, I was there the other night, and you know what? Bam. Let me tell you a strory. I went with Kania. Wow, ACID. Is that cool? Only if it comes in clouds! I mean, acid drizzling down the ground. Dripping drops working diligently for the crops, ain’t it? HAHA. MELT. I remember someone cut off my coin purse and, oh boy. OH BOY! What was that? Did you like that? SWASH! Paff. HAHA, look at your arm in the ground DOGGO, I cut yours off with my hoe. My rusty hoe. My famy’s arm. My arm. FWOOSH THEM VIVY! ! RUST! Man that felt awesome. I mean, I was once again with no coins, but. Whatever. FUN. I think I’m carrying over ten fireball necklaces. Willow said I shouldn’t burn the doggo’s forest, but c’mon. I mean, just c’mon. COME ON I just want to burn them doggos and maybe them forests in the way, a tiny bit. Not that it’ll get hurt. I mean, there are a lot of trees and fleas and-- R U S T HAHAHA. Wait, this is fun. Wait. ! R U S T HAHAHAHA. I think it was that cloud. Man, the dust. OH BOY, is that even related? I think so, baby. Tell me what’s what falls when you hit with a rusty hoe? RUST. Bigger now: ! Anyways, the other day, let me tell you a story. I think there were like five or six hins. No wait, it was actually a legion of hins. Thousands of millions looking for coal. Kania gave them the dust, I showed them the eye and the tongue. I think we hugged one or two. Kania suggested. But they were looking for coal. What a bunch of weirdos. Yep.
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  Raconteuse - Caling's tales
  • sciolist

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  'So, here I am admiring the wreckage of Astolfo's love life and the plates he's set himself to spin of who and what he cares about. When suddenly the Alarum is sounded! 'Foullest murder! And at the Dolvaks, which is no surprise at all to anyone over a hundred years old. Guards everywhere, holding the crowd back, rumour rife! What has happened? Yours truly wanders out and around pst the Edge to climb the battlements and go overlook the Alley. 'Horrible. I shan't go into detail as some of you are eating, but the guards are right to hold people back. This is a Crime Scene, and I've been at a fair few of those. Fortunately, that Iron-jawed champion of Justice Sir Shannon Magistrate Sir D'Arneau appears to render order to the City. The crowd are appeased when he names his favourite Elf as his new Inquisitor! 'Nay, Sir. Not I! I am but a humble recounter of tales, and drinker of ales, and with my fine inventory of goods, a broker of sales. The new Inquisitor is the pink-haired darling of the Bardic College, Syltria. 'Diligent examination of the crime scene occurs, and it would be most remiss for me to comment on an ongoing investigation, but... 'We know who did it. 'We know what they look like. 'Their days of freedom are numbered. I can say no more on that subject!
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  Sisters
  • Jyni

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  It had been a week since her prayers and she found herself wondering if it worked. Do the gods hear them at all or are they just there to play and torment us. Many must be praying at the same time she surmised. It could be I need something to get more attention to her prayer like she had thought once before at the altar. She scoffed and shook her head trying to clear it .. “These hopes of getting help are getting me nowhere.” She needed real power, just for a brief moment, and she needed a real path to that power. She found herself rubbing the leather of her black book. She placed the book back on the stand and continued working on its teachings. She gloved her hands looking down at the table her eyes barely visible behind the helm she always wore in Oscura. It muffled her voice as she talked to the lifeless body on the table “The book has real power, methods to make one more powerful and even those must hold some sort of sustained magic until used. Perhaps a battery of some sort .. a magic battery which could hold the magic until I required it. Build it up and then release in one massive spell.” She smiled at her idea while she soaked the rags and applied them to the corpse. “Not certain this will work for you but will will try.” She wrapped the body like she had seen the mummies wrapped in the crypt. Using the solution from the book the reasoned the solution would do the same to dead skin as her would to hers. She already felt she was more durable, why that was she wasn’t entirely sure, this was a way to find out. “Ok then”. She raised her hands and cast negative energy into the corpse .. the ray glowing red illuminated the rest of the room. She struck it 3 times and nodded. “Let’s see how you are in a few days.” She threw the gloves in the fire and collected all the left over parts of the mixture she had made to soak the rags. One by one she put them into the fire and watched them burn. Certain things seemed to take magical fire to successfully get rid of so the burning hands spell she found had become very handy. She packed everything that was left and wrapped her book in its special case tucking it away. She needed to find a permanent place where she didn’t have to hide all the components, mixtures, and experiments. The Priest should be able to help there. She thought as she cast invisibility and slipped out of the room, through the doors and into the city. As she walked, nodding to the other citizens politely, she couldn’t help but to think about the Altar, The Priests, the Promises, “Where is he .. he promised to help ..” by the time she entered the cave, It was Onyx who was in full control. Wielding a two handed sword she cut her way through the KoaToa not even stopping to grab their belongings. She ascended the stairs looking back at the group who followed her laying motionless on the floor. She felt better .. putting away her sword and casting invisibility again, she entered the snake cave and looked around . In a dark corner she removed her helm, sighing a bit of relief as she did. She quickly tucked it away and moved into the forest, stopping by the water to rinse herself of the nastiness of battle. She paused watching the blood disappear into the water, clean, and refreshed, it was never there in the first place. The stream carrying all the nastiness out to sea eventually, she thought. She splashed clean water on her face and as the ripples died down she caught her reflection in the water. She tried to remember the last 12 hours, it was all a bit fuzzy, some like a dream, some parts very real. “If I don’t remember then it must not have happened” she whispered to her reflection. Smiling she rose, clean, refreshed, ready to go once more into the world and find her friends.
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  "Finding a Balance of sorts" - A journal of Leena
  • JerrickRafe

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  An aberration to beat all others. Yesterday ... was a hell of a day. It started well, it ended well, but I can hardly close my eyes but to see that thing. It all started innocently enough. I wanted to talk with Batilde, and despite Roslyn's protests that things were, "Going to get philosophical again", the three of us decided on a walk in the woods. We had barely gotten started, when we ended up walking up on a camp of adventurers, resting by the corpse of a nearly 20 foot tall Gnoll, with tribal markings all over it. They asked me to help discern the cause of it's tremendous size, and having seen such before. I was able to quickly identify that it was ritual magic, much akin to an "Enlarge person" spell, but more of a shamanistic ritual. Satisfied, they seemed ready to move further into the woods, when a hooded woodsman showed up. He told us some things about the woods nearby, including the location of a town, and the direction of a section of the woods that NONE dare to tread, since those that do, seldom return. Obviously, with Wick, Batilde, Yaule, and myself ... not to mention Z and others who care about nature and/or the balance, the group easily decided that we were going to the town to learn more about the messed up section of woods, so off we went. The town, once we fought off hundreds of Gnolls, and freed a surprisingly spry old woman from their cage, had much to say about these woods, and warned us away, even begging us not to go in the case of some children. We left to the mutters of "fools" and the crying of children, into the apparently cursed woods. We arrived, finding an unnatural darkness, and an ominous feeling. There was nothing subtle about the wrongness in that place, but nothing specific either. I couldn't even detect anything particularly magical at work, though those attuned to the land as I am all shared my specific kind of unease, and a certain direction of the center of the wrongness. Then, the scary stuff began. It seemed like the group before us had been a mining trip originally, so I figured Z would lead, but he nominated me instead, so when we got in, I walked ahead, and found what seemed like localized rain, making a puddle between two trees. I checked it out, and happened to note that my reflection in that water made me look much prettier than I consider myself, more like Elaine, my twin. Yes, I know we're twins, but she just ... GLOWS. Her hair always falls perfect, her skin unblemished, she looks like me, but if painted by a master. Anyway, as I was wondering about that, I was pulled roughly away, suddenly aware that I was drowning. Apparently ... everyone else saw me, and Roslyn, stick our heads into the water and immediately drown ourselves, and only quick thinking saved us, as our friends pulled us out and made us cough up the water. Oh! On the way IN there, we saw a deer walk up to me, and as I pat it, it turned into a decaying corpse, and left it's skull in my hand. Shortly after that, a gypsy warrior walked up, and killed himself in front of us with a knife up through his jaw into his brain. So really, I should have known better ... A pretty flower made choking vines nearly kill another, and then statues past that were making people turn into statues too, for the looking at, before the rest of the statues turned into gargoyles, trying to eat the group. All in all, tensions were high, so I began singing a little marching song about Druids, to keep us occupied and distracted. The Druids go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah. The Druids go marching one by one, Hurrah! Hurrah! The Druids go marching one by one, a Flamestrike is brighter than the sun, and they all go marching on, to the cave, to the cave, they are brave .... I ended up signing plenty of those versed, as we fought, pushed, choked, bled, and suffered, only the knowledge, a feeling really, that if we JUST KEPT PRESSING ON, even when the air seemed poisonous, and on the verge of killing all of us, we'd get there, to the center, to the root of this evil, and be able to face it. No knowledge I came there with, could have prepared me for what greeted us. The ... "Thing" in the middle of a small, dark, clearing, was not of this world. It was not even of a known plane, and I've been to a few. I've fought demons, illithids, nightmares in the actual realm of dreams, but nothing ... nothing like this. Beyond our mortal planes, then beyond even those of the Gods, there are more places. Between places. Places that are neither fully real, nor reachable that I know of ... but sometimes, things come through it. I've heard the stories, and read the lore, but the reality of the things ... well that's just that. They do not FIT in our reality. It was unreal, in every sense of the word, except that it was there, making my mind disbelieve my eyes, and my other senses recoil at the smell, the touch, the sight of this horrific thing before me, which was ... well, I'll try to describe it. When you gut an animal, inside are squirmy, wet, squishy bits, and they're connected by membrane, soft or springy tissues, some of them just stretchy and strange looking. You'd never guess we had all that inside us, from the outside. This ... was as if some colossal creature was turned inside out, given 'life' to pulse and writhe and Gods Above ... screech horrifically, and then reach out with teeth and tentacles and tentacles WITH teeth, and spew forth other monsters at us, as we grew to understand that it was a living thing, a veritable infection on the land, living and growing like a cancer... becoming PART of our natural world, and perverting all it touched. I resisted throwing up, despite that assault on my mind and soul, steeled myself with spell and sword, and walked forward, cutting down the things it threw my way, shoulder to shoulder with the others who were not deterred, and got close enough to do what had to be done. Blades and spells hacked away at the thing, which thankfully didn't seem capable of defending itself past those tricks and taint, and creatures it spewed up ... so I got close, and began to chant, angrily screaming forth Kossuth's name in a plea to help us destroy the abomination, and raised my hands to the sky, even as it's creatures raked at me with their claws. My spells held me from harm, and then the world exploded in fire! A firestorm is divine fire, and even as it engulfed my allies and myself alike, none were harmed but my foes, giving up the control of the element to nature itself, to let IT do the purging, and protect it's protector. Flames ripped forth, the earth shook from the tearing of the air itself, and the creature SCREAMED, it's shriek enough to drive you mad if it had kept going ... but it was not finished. I was panting from the effort of the greater spell, being nearly at the highest level of my skill to cast, but it was not yet done. The darkness pressed in where fire had brought light once before, but I had one more trick up my sleeve, and I screamed out that if fire would not do, it could burn in the light of the SUN! I figured since all in this place was dark and gloom, perhaps letting in the thing that it so thoroughly kept out was exactly the trick we needed. Sunlight BURST forth, and the scream of the creature was infinitely more horrible, while the light form by spell appeared, flashed once, and then everything went WHITE. And then ... nothing. Nothing at all No sound, after that ear shattering scream, so loud we felt reality shake White, quiet, nothing. And then drips of water on our faces. The light dimmed, and became sunlight, filtering through the canopy, to fall upon the ruins of an unspeakable horror, something with no name, something that should not exist ... and was burned even past that mere moments later when I was asked to hit it again, just to be sure. 5 times, my mass lightning spell ripped forth, Talos seeming more than glad to hear my plea and aid me, and then there was but ash all around us, motes of dust lingering in the air from the devastation. Between Z's use of holy water, my fire, Willow's fire, blades and spells all around, and then that final burst of sunlight, it was done. It IS done ... We returned to the town to tell the amazed villagers, and even managed to get a reward, which was nice. I woke up in a sweat last night, that scream once more ringing in my ears, too ... but I'm sure that too, shall pass with time. For now ... I should probably go find Batilde, and have that talk that's been interrupted twice now. I got to talk to Yaule, and she acquitted herself well in that fight, as did Batilde before she had to turn back, so there's likely plenty to discuss. Today will be a good day, so long as I don't hear anything like that again while awake...
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  Value of Coins - Isendir's Musings.
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  Been a while since i wrote a journal entry. Met a werewolf, Aelthas - who didn't tell me how to tame my 'inner worg'. Felt left out alone after that. Well, C'est la vie - such is life. Adventured a while, killed some worgs in a team then felt Nature's Call and travelled for a while in the woods exploring. During these travels, i felt love for woods, for nature. Perhaps a Ranger awakened in me. Have to talk with Ting about that. -- Isendir, newly awakened Ranger.
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  The World According to Ting
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  Doubt.... yes and no... is bad for Ting to have doubts. People look up to Ting... and Ting just wants to do Ting things.... I am no leader am ... a specialist.... Fealar understood me..... my silence is no being rude... I am Ting... * sighs * do not take my silence nothing more than.... Ting
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  Travelling between worlds - Chea's Journal, part second.
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  Value Words. Dear Journal, ... i am travelling to Damara with a escorted caravan, seeking love. They asked me if i will pay - i've answered: 'it's fine'. They asked how much is fine - i've answered: '100gp'. Thought i'll sort meanings of the words, so conversation goes smooth. 'poor' - transaction reejected. 'good enough' - 1 gp. 'good' - 10 gp. 'neat' - almost fine, 80 gp. 'fine' - 100 gp. 'grand' - 1000 gp. 'excellent' - 10 000 gp. 'awesome' - 100 000 gp. 'perfect' - 1 000 000 gp. i've considered modifying with other words, but finally settled for numerical pre-fixing. for example: '1 000 grand is perfect', '10 good enough is good'. ... etc. This should be simple and easy to use. -- Yours, Chea Allin, travelling witch.