The Slaying of Lord Hashnar; The Rise of an Old Paladin
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_The large group of Heros, marched into Peltarch with bulging bags hanging over thier shoulders.
The great senator Roland, hero of the common folk and holy warrior of Helm.
Zyphlin Re'cual, the reckless but brave Blue Bard of Peltarch.
Shannon D'Arneau, stoic knight of Torm and loyal friend of the Senator.
The powerful General Grag, slayer of Atol.
Lady Amissa of the Phoenix, loyal serveant of Lady Midnight.
The alluring elven songstress of the South, Silmanthenia.
Sy'wyn Blackwood, the enigmatic far scout with the pure heart.
The seductress and warrior of Sharess, Hedia.
And the dwarven master of the arcane, Tolin.
The nine heroes came into the city one by one, traveling to the theater for a small time. Shortly after thier entering however they were seen leaving one by one, a grand smile on thier face. Finally, Zyphlin returned out, moving into the commons and his tale has begun to spread like fire in a dry forest._
I will honestly say there have been few acts of Heroism like the one presented by our brave and devout Senator. Some days ago we had discovered a henious plot. Mercenary from Damara and Pirates of Hoarsgate had been hired by someone within our city to do a most dishonorable and horrendous tak; they were paid to find and violate the tomb of our great founder, King Tidus the Fisher King.
Together we brought together a fearsome group of brave souls and made our way up into the giantspire to stop the defamation of the grave and to stop whatever plot was planning to occur. We battled through feroius grizzely bears and manticores and then through the frightful Ogre Cave filled with beasts salvating for human blood. Yet as terrible as the caves were, we made it through and out into the acrid red air of the middle Giantspire. Our blades and bows tore into the ogres and giants there, spilling their blood as we tore through with a divine vengance. It was then our tumulturous journey nearly came to an end, as a noble and powerful Fire Giant came upon our battle.
We abided by the treaty between the city and the giants, but we had to continue our way through. The Giant, Kert, demanded a toll for passage…he wished to wrestle with one of our party and if they won we could pass. Now naturally, I was hoping for Grag, but it seemed the large mountain of a humanoid had taken a liking to Grag almost like a pet, patting him not so gently on the head and laughing. As such, the defender Shannon stepped up to the task.
Calling upon Torm's might he grasped onto the Fire Giant and the battle began. It was hard faught but a marvel to see for in the end Shannon, one third the size of the Giant, stopped the victor with barely a bruise upon him due to Torm's graces and his trained skill. Kert, laughing at the good time, aided our travels and riding upon his back we ventured far up into the Giantspire to our destination.
When our guide stated we had reached our destination we parted ways with Kert, thanking the noble Giant for his aid before setting off down the cold frigid revine. As we moved up through the rocky, snowy landscape we came upon two great collums filling us with forboding thoughts. Our guide informed us that they marked the entrance to the lands of Lord Hashnar, son of Cryonar the Terrible Dragon of Mount Nar.
Still, we had to press on. Our goal was within his cave and so we could not stop. We continued our way forward and came upon the main Damaran fleet. With a fury of vengence we tore into them. Grag, Rolan, and Shannon led the charge along with the hand of Tyr, Helm, and Torm. From behind Tolin was letting forth his spells decimating thier ranks while the other clerics took the flank. I stalked off to the cliffs, deftly removing the archers that sought to snipe up before coming to one of thier commands.
I came up behind him, blades at the ready, and coerced him to spill why they were here. He said they were hired by a third party to recover the artifacts of the Fisher King's tomb so as to legitimize a Senator Candidate. I bid him to be on his way and not turn back, hoping to be a bit merciful. However the mercenary would not have it and turned back to bare, halberd raised. However the man was not to smart to know his surrounding and a simple kick sent him sprawling over the side.
With the pirates and mercenaries removed, there was but one last obstacle; Hashnar. The guide showed us the Dragons escape route into his cavern so as to more saftely come upon the sleeping wyrm. Once inside however, the treachery of the man reared its head.
Darkness fell upon us and a wave of unconsiousness came over our bodies. When we came too most of us were trapped behind a thick wall of gates made of some strange sort of anti-magical metal. We were trapped...all but one.
Senator Brynmor had someone there that day looking favorably upon him. He was on the other side, facing off against our guard as he took his true form as the great white wyrm Hashnar. The dragon laughed at the Paladin, stating that we had fallen into his trap and that he would finally end the Brymor line. You see...Roland's great great great uncle faced the wrym in its youth and barely failed to fell the great beast, losing his own life. Now the brave Senator is the last of the great Brynmor line, and the Dragon wished to finish the job.
But the senator was not fooled, for Helm is ever vigilent and watchful. Calling upon the righteous fury of his holy diety Roland rushed forward to match the Dragons charge. Blades, claws, and teeth were brought together in a jumble of combat that rang out through the cavern as we sat helpless to aid. But it was not the sound of combat ringing through the caverns that we would remember, but more the scream of NOOO! as Roland's blade pierced through the soft spot between the scales of the dragon and punctured its heart...ending his reign of Terror.
And so, with the great dragon scourge defeated and realizing that the Dragon had misinformed the simple minded person within the city to cause this entire farce to occur, it was almost time to head home. But first, as all good adventurer's will do....we looked for the horde.
And what a horde it was, for Hashnar was an old dragon. However all the treasure within it did not match what Roland was to find. There, atop the horde, was ancient armor of helm...his great great great uncles. And glowing before that, bathed in the divine light, was a sword that is undoubtably unmatched within narfell. A blade that was earned through vigilence and blood and that will be weilded by one of the greatest paladins and men Narfell will ever see.
And I must say, I am honored to have been by his side the whole time and to be able to tell this story...
...and it did have its perks.
With that Zyphlin gives a bit of a smile, pulling a foriegn cloak from his normal Night Cloak around him, hands secure upon the strange velvety green fabric. With a slight bow filled with some playfulness to it and a wink, the Blue Bard made his way out of the commons and into the shadows while wrapping his cloak around him
