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Topic: Save The Princess, Save The Wyrm
Subject: Kobolds? I eat kobolds for breakfast.
That was that then. No point in dividing and being conquered now that the enemy was already running at them like a rusty brown wall of hands and feet. Of course these kobolds weren't the real enemy. There was no way the dog-faced horned little monsters could have come up with the red dome. They were too stupid for that. They were too stupid to understand they would all end up dead.
WIthout thinking, the big ranger grabbed his bow with one hand, drew handful of arrows from his quiver with the other and struck them a couple of inches into the ground sharp head first. Readying one, he took quick aim at a kobold on the edge of the charging group and let the arrow loose. Not waiting to see if it hit or not, Brandr picked another arrow and another enemy.
"Brandr, you there?", called Peter as he prepared to face the wave of the little monsters. As an answer to the priest, the ranger's front and middle fingers released the bow string for the second time with a self-explanatory "twang". Once again Brandr's hand shot for the remaining arrows on the ground while he made a quick estimation of the situation.
OOC: If there's time to fire more arrows and if his "physically more vulnerable" buddies aren't in immediate danger, he'll keep on using the bow. If Crow or Derry needs melee help, Brandr will charge to either with his swords at the ready instead.
Posted on 2010-01-27 at 08:20:52.
Edited on 2010-01-27 at 08:45:11 by Raven
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: Now look here!
Brandr does not hit people accidentally! I thought I made that very clear! 
Posted on 2010-01-26 at 06:04:41.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: Blood for the Blood God!
Whoops wrong game, wrong world, wrong system.
Al, is there any time for Brandr to loose a couple of arrows before joining the melee?
Posted on 2010-01-25 at 19:06:28.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: Yeah
Just did the same. 
Posted on 2010-01-25 at 09:20:52.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: Nice one, Alacrity
Hah. No guessing needed whether we've been seen or not now. And here we were trying to come up with a plan (or two) and you go ruining it all for us. 
Oh well, it's magic and mayhem time then!
Posted on 2010-01-25 at 08:58:30.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: Yup
I've also sent you some private email to your hotmail account, oh glorious DM. Let me know if you got it.
Posted on 2010-01-24 at 09:58:38.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: Yeah well
Oh well, let's let Alacrity sort that out for us. What we've posted are just things we wish to happen - they're not necessarily what will be.
Nice post anyway, Keeper. I'd love to answer it, but I'll let the DM handle it. And Brandr will for sure accept the "apology", he's not one to anger easily even if he might have been a bit disappointed. He does however hold personal honor in high importance. 
Posted on 2010-01-24 at 06:20:07.
Edited on 2010-01-24 at 06:26:04 by Raven
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: whoops
Tann, you sneaky you!
Posted on 2010-01-24 at 04:51:42.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: :)
Yes, that one I tried. But it's macros don't work on a Mac. Oh well. Perhaps I'll just use virtual paper and pen instead.
Thanks for the effort, though!
Posted on 2010-01-23 at 19:33:48.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: Now were getting somewhere... or not :D
Nothing personal Keeper. You're playing your character and I'm playing mine. Brandr can be difficult at times.
Posted on 2010-01-23 at 19:22:13.
Edited on 2010-01-23 at 19:22:33 by Raven
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Topic: Save The Princess, Save The Wyrm
Subject: Say what?
"…old divide and be conquered plan…" "…accidentally attacking each other in the heat of battle…" Brandr felt like shaking his head and asking Noctus to repeat himself. Had the fancy swashbuckler just insulted him in front of their companions? They were a group of people trying to work together for a common goal, but they came from different backgrounds and naturally had different views of the world. But the syl's words not only questioned his intelligence, but what's worse - his skills as a warrior.
Shaking his head slightly all traces of a smile disappeared from the huge man's face. "Noctus, my friend." The stress was on the last word. "I will let that go because we've only worked together for a short while and you apparently do not know me or the ways of my people well enough." The eyes cold blue gaze caught the sylvari fighter's eyes. "Were we up north in Vidarak land, I couldn't leave such an insult pass unpunished."
"I do not attack anyone by accident, be it friend or foe. Not in any situation. As for being divided and getting conquered… You maybe somewhat correct. Should there be a huge force inside, four people might not be able to hold them off in the hallway shown on the map. But I doubt six would fare little better."
Still looking directly at Noctus, Brandr continued: "However, being able to engage the enemy from two sides and possibly catching them unaware of the rear attack would be well worth the risk. But I can't force you to do as I suggest. If you all wish to go through the front door, by all means do so. I'm still going to circle around to the side door."
With that, Brandr set out towards the east end of the building, slowly and quietly and using the trees as his cover.
Posted on 2010-01-23 at 19:21:01.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: Hmm...
Gboy... Yes, that's a nice thing, but it's not exactly what I'm looking for.
I can of course put everything down in a document like in your example, but I'm after an excel sheet or pdf to edit. With pdf's the problem is that I don't have a full version of Acrobat available and the fillable shee versions I've found can only be printed, not saved.
Bromern's sheet right here at the Inn is very nice too, but it's just a bit too complicated for me.
Eol: Lurk away. You seem to have caught Olan's attention better than I did. Thanks for the info!
Posted on 2010-01-23 at 18:39:33.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: No Danamar sheet yet
Darn. Wasn't able to send you the sheet before weekend. I'll try to get it completed tonight or tomorrow, depending on how this flu evolves. Bromern's sheet, even though I was familiar with it before, proved to be more complicated than I remembered.
Should any of you have a 3.5e fillable sheet, I'd gladly have a copy.
Posted on 2010-01-23 at 16:22:09.
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Topic: Save The Princess, Save The Wyrm
Subject: Let's move!
Brandr was actually somewhat surprised to find that his simple idea had been successful. On the other hand, not knowing how magics truly worked, he really had no reason not to believe that digging a tunnel under the strange red dome would make a difference. He thought it obvious the magical field of energy would end where it met the ground, just like it did… Or when the big ranger now put his mind to it, he found he hadn't really thought about it at all.
As the group crawled through the small tunnel to the other side, what they met something Brandr had not expected at all. All was quiet - very, very quiet. To a man of nature it was all too quiet to be real. The only sound he could hear was their own movement and breathing and it made the situation strange. It was so unnatural that a lesser man might have been scared of the silence. And even the warrior, whom the locals would no doubt call barbaric, felt a creeping wave of cold crawling on his back. And to add to the absence of sound was another oddity - the redness. Everything was red in a most strange way… And then he noticed the birds and squirrels…
Then started again the thing that always did in a mixed group of adventures coming from various backgrounds - the democratic offering of ideas, thinking and thinking about what to do next. Each more politely than the other suggesting an option. In dire straits it would get them killed. Now? Now it might too even if not right away. Brandr was not a stupid man. Even if he looked somewhat barbaric or simple in the eyes of city dwellers and had been called both many a time, the tall blonde man was not quite that. And yet, he didn't wish for intelligent conversation right now. Now he felt like sitting duck and wanted to move.
The big man took a quick look at the map and then turned his eyes on the manor. Though not a strategist, Brandr felt that the entrance hall of the castle might prove to be too tight for them to fight efficiently if need be. Neither did he - just like Derry - have any doubt, that should someone be on the watch in the mighty building, that same someone would most certainly have noticed them trying to get through the barrier. It was another matter though to catch them digging a hole under the red sphere however. It was hard enough to see well through the thing and the apple trees had probably given them some cover. They had not necessarily been seen to enter yet, though at the moment they could only assume they had.
Turning to his companions, Brandr checked that his swords were loose in the scabbards and spoke: "I say we split up." He nodded to the priest of Therassor and continued: "You're carrying too much armor to sneak in unnoticed, Peter, so you'll have to go through the front door. But you'll need someone watching your back. Why don't you take Ela, Derry and Noctus with you and we'll circle around the back with Crow? We can all get fairly close to the front door under cover of the trees. It's not fool proof, but better than nothing. After Crow has checked the main entrance, he and I will try to stay unnoticed and continue to the side door with our backs to the wall. Just give us some time to get there…" Brander looked at the syl rogue for affirmation. "Count to… say… two hundred before you enter?"
Posted on 2010-01-23 at 10:26:08.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: O.o
I really hate that table. Geesh! 13k gold? A 6th lvl character wouldn't really have to work much for the rest of his days with that much money.
Posted on 2010-01-22 at 07:49:01.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: Hheh
Posted on 2010-01-20 at 19:13:42.
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Topic: Fave Music for Use in Tabletop RPG's
Subject: Hmm..
It's been a while...
But I'd say Clannad, Enya, Jethro Tull, LotR for sure. Depends of the type of game of course.
Posted on 2010-01-20 at 13:57:06.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: Yeppah
Actually that was Gboy.
I would've initially said no, there are no elven sub-races on Audalis. But then I started to think if I'm sure or not and I'm not. So I sent Olan a question to make sure.
Posted on 2010-01-20 at 12:43:39.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: Yay
Thanks and thanks. Not the best of backgrounds I've come up with for a character, but quite ok I think.
Ok, ok. I give up. 3.5e is just fine. I'll have to rethink the levels between the fighter and priest sides, but there shouldn't be anything major to change. I love the idea of two warriors with healing abilities.
Posted on 2010-01-19 at 17:37:58.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: Hmm... Would this do?
Here's a background for my character. It's a somewhat tweaked version of a character I used to play in another game years ago. The game died short and Danamar's virtual life was short lived, so I thought he would be great for this game.
Let me know what you think, YeOlde.
Also. In 2nd ed terms, would the multi-classed equivalent of a 6th level be 5/5? Experience point wise that would be close. That's if we are going to use 2nd rules.
And attributes... Fixed amount of points? 4d6 - worst / stat? What rule should we use in creating the character?
As for companion books, I was thinking Skills&Powers. But if the rest of the group aren't familiar with that one, I'll skip it as well. It tends to allow heavy optimization of characters and possibly let's people create too powerful characters.
DANAMAR AMARILLIS
In the year 318 ER Alanmir and Iliana Amarillis witnessed the birth of their second boy child. They along with their friends and family considered the child a gift from the gods. When Danamar was born his parents were already approaching their fifth century and having a child at such an old age was quite rare even amongst the sylvari. The child’s birth was a blessing in another sense as well. For nearly a century before Danamar first saw daylight, the couple had lost their son Thaniar, who had disappeared while searching for lost ancient artifacts in the ruins of Faelth’nor - a legendary elven fortress near the Chakran Mountains. Great festivities were raised in Danamar’s name. Alanmir and Iliana along with their kin and friends celebrated his birth for two full weeks in a row.
The Amarillis family is a lesser branch in the tree of Londelirinen nobility. Traditionally members of the family have held important administration or religious offices in the sylvari kingdom. Alanmir and Iliana were no exception to the rule. Danamar’s father had been a very skilled and experienced officer in Rimen'arrana, the Riders of the Storm until his retirement from active military service some 45 years after the birth of his second son. Mother Iliana was raised and trained from a child to serve in the temple of Kith-jora and she has served her goddess with honor for 300 years so far.
Despite their important roles and positions of power in the administration, the members of the Amarillis family have traditionally been restless and willing to travel the world. The death of Danamar’s brother during an expedition was not exactly a rare fate amongst the young members of the family. Many left their homes to find adventure and regrettably few ever returned. Alanmir and Iliana were afraid Danamar might follow his brother’s example and face the same destiny. Therefore they decided to travel with the child themselves and show him as much of the world as possible to silence the call of adventuring.
However Alanmir soon felt too old to be constantly on the move and wanted to return to Londerlirinen and settle down again. But the bug had already bitten his young son, and before even reaching adulthood Danamar wished to go out into the wide world and explore its secrets and mysteries. The old fear of losing their child reared up its head again and once more Alanmir and Iliana found themselves looking for a solution to the problem.
During all the years they had been away, the old soldier’s merits had not been forgotten, and the people in charge of running the nation were well aware of his trips outside the sylvari lands. Therefore when the border town of Quevin in Coria was established in 430 ER and a volunteer was needed to represent Londelirinen, the name of Alanmir Amarillis was raised on the table. The idea of permanently living outside the syl society in a human country did not seem appealing at first and almost felt like a punishment. But Alanmir, always looking for the positive side of things, saw it as an answer to the dilemma they had. Now his young son would be able to see foreign life, but still stay at home with his parents.
Alanmir received a position in the Council of Quevin and was nominated as the commander of the town’s militia. Therefore the training the father had given to Danamar had a clear continuum in the Town Guard. In his youth, whenever his father had the possibility, Danamar studied the way of the sword with him. Alanmir was not one of the chosen few, who possessed the skill to become a Bladesinger, but he was an exceptional swordsman nevertheless. The father’s fascination with the blade quickly overtook the son as well and his enthusiasm and skill showed great promise to become a mighty warrior himself.
The next decade was a new kind of learning period for Danamar. He studied the life of humans and sylvari and even other races - how they mingled and struggled through everyday problems. The young syl found the younger races most interesting, especially the humans. There were considerable differences in the concept of a family between his kin and the Corians. Unlike a sylvari family, in which both sexes where considered perfectly equal, in most human examples, the man seemed to be the stronger - more dominating part. But what fascinated Danamar the most, were the children, particularly the number of them.
During his service in the Guard, young Lord Amarillis made a few good friends of his fellow human militiamen. He was invited to visit their families and often returned the favor. The affection between the siblings in the human families woke up a yearning in his heart and soul. He was naturally well aware of the fate of his deceased brother, and knew his parents were way too old to have another child. But secretly, when he was alone, Danamar imagined a little brother for himself. One he could teach all he had learned - show all he knew. But that was not to become reality, at least not as such.
The young syl had never considered himself a true believer or a religious person as a child. His mother of was a devout follower of Kith-jora and his father’s belief was of no less fervor. But his fellow soldiers in the local militia swore in the name of Therassor, the God of Just Battle. The elves had a different name for the human god and Danamar’s father had often told him of Nim’megil or White Sword. Though Alanmir always considered the Forest Father the greatest of all the gods, he respected and followed the dogma of Therassor. The honor and dignity that was justice had a great effect on Danamar. More than often he found himself in the local temple listening to the preaching of a human priest and accepting the words into his heart.
Finally six years ago, against the wish of his parents, Danamar applied and was accepted to become a novice in the local group of Warders of the Gate. He showed great promise and his devotion as well as his ability to absorb new things allowed him quick advancement. Then only 18 months after joining the ranks of the organization, the syl graduated as an Acolyte. His training with Father Berinius was over. The Battle Lord had taken the young sylvari noble under his wing and chosen him as one of his priests. He was now a cleric and a messenger with a mission to spread the truth of justice to all evil.
Danamar’s parents, though not happy with his choice, still showed their love and acceptance and begged their son to stay in Quevin. But the black-haired Warder knew the border-town was in good hands and he was no longer needed to keep it safe. So as the spring of year 448 reached Quevin, Danamar packed his gear, mounted his stallion and rode out to find adventure.
During the next couple of years the fresh priest of Therassor traveled through Londerlirinen and Coria. Wherever he went, Danamar was at first viewed with suspicion. His fellow sylvari thought he had forgotten their traditional ways and abandoned the love of Kith-jora. And despite how hard he tried, the young Lord Amarillis was not able to make his kin understand his choice. In his the sylvari had become intolerant and narrow-minded. Though he was still loved as one of the people and not looked down upon, Danamar no longer felt quite as at home as before.
Nearly two years ago, Danamar Amarillis was traveling through the southern parts of Coria near the Pardinese border when he heard the local farmers complaing about a roaming band of raiders, which had been plaguing the villages for a few months. It felt like a perfect mission for a servant of justice, and the young cleric joined a mixed group of farmers, soldiers and bounty hunters who set out to catch the raiders.
The chase was hard and long. Both sides faced heavy losses, but in the end the justice prevailed and the outlaw gang broke apart and the lone raiders were picked up one by one. The farmers and villagers returned home and soon Danamar found himself riding through the lands alone looking for any signs of the fleeing bandits. One day he came upon a scene where three bounty hunters had caught a single half-orc and had it cornered against a steep hillside. Deciding to let them handle the situation, he sat on his saddle on top another low hill and watched silently.
The orcish warrior did not want to be caught and challenged one of the bounty hunters into a duel. Much to Danamar’s surprise the mercenaries agreed. But soon it became apparent that the hunters had fooled the orc. Instead of giving it a fair fight they all fell upon him when his back was exposed. Danamar was enraged by their behavior and rode down to stop them from murdering the helpless half-orc.
Knowing the beast had taken part in atrocities and that the bounty hunters probably felt they had good excuse to mutilate it, Danamar only settled for berating them and drove them away. Saying a quiet prayer to his god, the syl was about to leave the dead bandit behind when he heard an almost inaudible and agonized cry. Having thought the creature dead, it was now his own turn to be chastised for not bothering to check.
The cleric dismounted and drew his blade planning to put the half-orc out of its misery, when the pain-clouded eyes caught his and pity softened his hard heart. The teachings of Father Berinius rang in his mind. “In a fight, the enemy - no matter how evil, must be given a fair chance to defend its life. Wrongdoers must be punished, but no more than they deserve. Should a man strike down a defenseless murderer, a murderer he would become in turn.”
There was no doubt in Danamar’s mind that the half-orc raider had done evil things, but in his heart he felt the poor being had certainly paid for its crimes on that day. Calling for the healing powers of the White Sword, he closed the terrible wounds on the torn body and sighed with relief. The Battle Lord would not have granted him the power if it had not been the right thing to do.
Nursing the half-orc, Org, back to full health took weeks of the sylvari’s time. Many times he wondered why he bothered to help an evil being, but he had quickly learned of Org’s limited capabilities to understand everything that happened around him. As they walked and talked together, Danamar found out that Org’s heart had not been tainted with evil completely. It had joined the gang for it had been offered no other choice. No other group would accept a creature such as he. During the fifth night when Org slept, Danamar prayed for his God to reveal the evil in the half-orc’s soul to him. But he felt no familiar waves of evil emanate from Org. The relief was tremendous, for the syl had for some strange reason started to like the half-orc. He saw the other as a lost child, who taken a wrong turn on the path of his life; a person who needed guidance and tuition. In a way, Danamar felt he had finally found the little brother he could never have.
The odd duo’s travels had finally brought them to Pardinal. The 20 or so months they had adventured together had not been easy for either of them. Danamar had done his best to turn the half-orc to the path of goodness and to hammer the laws of Therassor into Org’s thick skull. There had been some success, for the barbaric warrior’s behavior was no longer as chaotic as it had been, and he had learned to respect other beings… to a degree.
Many a time the syl had considered leaving his friend behind. But inside he knew, despite how much frustration he felt, that Org was not ready to take on the World on his own. The anger and pain he felt at times was nothing compared to the damage and agony the half-orc might cause to others, should he return to his old ways. And it wasn’t all that bad. Danamar had experienced great moments of joy and happiness while traveling with Org, and especially so when his friend had shown progress. Yet there was still a lot to be done.
But like so often in life, all good things come to an end. The evolving relationship between a syl and a half-orc came to an abrupt end in a not quite so glorious way. After an evening in a tavern in Portua the story of Org came to an end.
The orcish warrior had been drinking heavily against the good advice Danamar had offered him. Things had been going well for weeks between them and Org had not gotten into any trouble anywhere. Therefore the sylvari cleric had not worried too much of his friend’s drinking although the half-orc was getting intoxicated fast. Despite his heavy build, Org didn’t have the head for beer or moonshine and the situation soon got out of hand.
The bestial temper of his father’s side quickly surfaced when a local thug called Org a pig face. It took only a heartbeat for the half-org to break the man’s nose, hand and both knees, and Danamar only had time to get on his feet when something hit him on the top of his head and the syl priest lost consciousness. When he finally came to, Danamar found himself surrounded by the Portuan city guards with the barkeep yelling and pointing this way and that.
A wave of sadness flushed over the syl as he was picked up from the floor by two of the guard and when his eyes caught a familiar shape lying on top of a broken table, he knew Org was no more. A heavy dagger was still stuck hilt deep in the half-orc’s back and a pool of dark red blood covered the floor all around him. Although he had always feared and secretly known the coming of this day, losing a friend - no matter how out of the ordinary - made Danamar sick.
The warrior priest was quickly cleared out of any charges the keeper had against him. A number of people spending the evening in the tavern had accounted the events to the captain of the guard and said the sylvari had nothing to do with killing. Danamar was released immediately, but the captain suggested him to visit other establishments from then on to keep out of trouble. The man Org had assaulted had bled to his death as well, but Org’s murderer was never found.
Posted on 2010-01-18 at 14:06:03.
Edited on 2010-01-18 at 16:23:09 by Raven
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Topic: Not Really a Game, But...it COULD Be
Subject: Danathaniel, sylvari paladin of Kith-Jora
“The gnolls are getting careless”, muttered the pale, handsome sylvari to himself in his song-like melodic voice. There was no emotion on his face, no smile or grin of satisfaction. He merely stated the obvious and knew he was nearing his real prey. The tracks were clear. Branches of trees and bushes had been torn from their trunks, leaves had been crushed beneath the running feet and clear imprints of the boots were visible on the soft floor of the forest. A blind, running dwarf, could have followed the gnolls now. The riding syl merely slowed down somewhat and leaned from the back of his magnificent stallion to observe the ground.
They were scared now, no longer obeying their master’s commands, no longer trying to stop the one that was hunting them down. For two days he had now followed the murderous beasts and the one leading them. More than half of their number were now dead. The slowest ones had been left behind to delay the syl, to hold him back. Some had fought valiantly while others had attempted to ambush him. The fools. Ambushing a sylvari in a forest? Trying to take him by surprise? The blessing of Kith-jora, the Father of all elves, had allowed him to sense the evilness of the creatures from far away. The power given to him by his god had let him foil the simple plans of the simple beasts… and he had cut them down without mercy.
The smoke rising from the chimneys had been a positive surprise to the syl. He had never traveled through these parts of Coria before and knew next to nothing of the area. If his estimation was correct, as it in most cases was, he still had at least a two days ride to the capital city of Coria. The smile on his face had frozen quickly as he got closer to the village. Ravens and other birds feeding on carrion had n been circling above the hamlet and there had been far too much smoke to come from merely a few fireplaces. A familiar, but terrible smell accompanied by a gruesome sight had awaited him instead of laughing children and mooing cows…
Counting the mix of paw and shoe prints the gnolls had left at the village and its surroundings, Danathanil had come to a conclusion that a score of the beasts had attacked the poor, defenseless farmers. Mangled and mutilated corpses of the slaughtered people had greeted the silvery-haired elven warrior when he had ridden into the village. The bodies had still felt a little warm to touch, though most of the blood on the ground had already dried. The gnolls had beaten him to it. They had robbed him the chance to relax and enjoy the company of the simple, but kind villagers. They had left no one alive… but the murderers were not long gone.
After a closer inspection, Danathanil had become certain the gnolls had not attacked the place on their own. The attack of the beasts had been too well coordinated. Although gnolls certainly weren’t the most dim-witted of the humanoid races, they surely were not gifted with enough intelligence to come up with such tactics as had been used in the attack at the ill-fated village. Someone or something had done the planning for them and guided them through the attack. Though such a thing was not unheard of, gnolls rarely accepted anyone but the strongest of their clan to lead them. And yet, this time their master had been something completely different. All the animals in the village - barns, stables and fields had been slaughtered too. Most were just hacked to pieces, but some, man and animal alike, showed no other signs of violence than a single gaping hole in their chests. Their beating hearts had been ripped from within them by a single strike of a powerful set of claws.
The handsome sylvari hadn’t had to look far to get a confirmation for his suspicions. Here and there had been small circular areas completely devoid of life. It was as if someone or something had sucked the life force of all the plants around him. A feeling of great sadness and sorrow for all the lost lives - both man, animal and plant alike had filled his heart, only to be replaced by a firm decicion to punish the evildoers. Danathanil had quickly returned to his horse, checked his equipment and set off after the monsters.
It did not take long for him to reach the last of the gnolls and kill them in just combat. Even in the case of thoroughly evil creatures he avoided striking first and hitting them in the back. Some of them decided to come at him together, but even then they had no chance. The far superior weapons and fighting abilities of the paladin got him through without more than a few harmless scratches.
Soon he felt a greater evil in the woods ahead of him; a single creature of considerable power and a servant of a dark god. A spawn of the deepest hells had crossed the border that kept the two worlds apart and was now ready to attack the annoying syl that had relentlessy been following it for days. But like its weak servants, it was equally unable to surprise the faithful follower of Kith-jora. Where the deep blue mix of horns, oddly shaped bones and a gaping maw hoped to meet a defenceless soft little fairy, it met a ready warrior terrible in his anger instead. The lesser daemon was unearthly quick in its movements, but the battlehoned senses of Danathanil allowed him to move faster. He dodged the behemoth’s sharp claws and ended his roll behind the creature. With all his strength he drove his silver tipped spear into the back of the daemon only to receive a mocking, terrible laughter instead of a cry of pain. Its unholy magic protects it from ordinary weapons. I can only hurt it with an enchanted one. He left the spear hanging in the wound and drew his beautiful longsword. The blade hummed a promise of death to the unnatural creature and it backed away from the sylvari. Instead of a physical attack the daemon sent a telepathic attempt to control the puny sylvari just as it had done to the gnolls earlier, but this time its magic met an invisible wall of pure goodness, a power far greater than itself. The surprise was the last feeling the creature had on Antaron. As the shining blade of the paladin connected with the supernatural flesh and severed the horrendous head from what Danathanil could only describe as its shoulders, the daemon disappeared with a blinding flash leaving the syl standing alone in the middle of the forest.
Three days he rode back to Greenfield and the next three he spent burying and blessing the dead, following the rituals his mother had taught him decades ago. Unable to return life to the animals or plants, he said his prayers for them too before leaving the ill-fated village behind him.
More than a hundred and thirty years ago, Luithanal Arrnaeth and his wife Aliathania were finally blessed with a child. Danathanil was born on a beautiful and warm spring day. As far as he could remember his mother, a devoted priestess of Kith-jora, had always taken care of him as a child. His father was part of the Riders of the Storm and most of the time on an assignment away from their beautiful treetown home. Still somehow Lord Luithanal every now and then found the time to tutor his son in the art of combat; mainly in the use of the spear, sword and the bow. The boy handled the weapons with exceptional skill from the first day on and always obediently trained like his father bade him to. He seemed to love fighting and always wanted to learn more.
But even more than the weapons and combat, Danathanil loved the lessons his mother gave him. Studying the teachings of the Lord of Trees, listening to and reading all the tales and legends, ‘The seed of life’ being one of his favorites, gave him more joy than excelling in fencing. Aliathana was a strict mother in the religious upbringing of her son. Every day she would have young Danathanil take part in at least one religious ritual or chore at the temple, and every day she tested if he had learned the teachings of the previous day.
The young syl loved the nature and somehow he felt that the nature loved him too. He enjoyed watching the plants make their way through the surface of the soil, to grow and bloom, to provide food and shelter for even the smallest of beings. Observing the animals gave him no less joy. The innocence of their instinctive behavior, how cruel it sometimes may seem, was something the humanoid races lacked. Wolves and bears were not evil. They did not kill for pleasure or pain, but only to ensure their own survival. If such were the way of men, there would be no wars and no need for revenge. Danathanil tried to learn as much of the nature as he was able. His mother taught him to recognize the tracks left by different animals and how to find them in the wild. He also learned to know the ‘good’ herbs from the ‘bad’ ones; to tell which ones could be used to slow down poisons or to accelerate healing of wounds. To Danathanil his God was the same thing as the nature. When the forests and lakes of the land were hurt, so was Kith-jora. Without nature there would be no life and therefore the nature had to be protected.
It is not common, but neither is it altogether unheard of for elves to marry for other reasons but love. Danathanil’s father Lord Luithanal Arrnaeth was a minor noble lord who wanted to be certain his son would marry a maiden worthy of him. By the time Danathanil was nearing the end of his adolescence and ready to advance to adulthood, Lord Luithanal had already agreed on the future of his matrimonial life. The esteemed Lord High Magi Thaliantul was getting old and his only daughter Liaral needed to be married to ensure the continuation of his bloodline. His daughter was notorious for flirting and dating numerous young men simultaneously, but not taking any seriously. The High Magi would not have it any longer. When Lord Arrnaeth came to his door with the suggestion, he was eager to agree on the marriage of their children.
Thus all was set. Neither Danathanil nor Liaral liked the idea of a marriage without love. They were still young and held high the illusion of love ruling the world. But there was no running away from the wedlock and both obediently submitted to their fathers’ decision. Danathanil had always known that the marriage between his mother and father had also been arranged, but Aliathania had kept on telling him how it was possible for two people to learn to love each other as years pass by.
Great celebrations were held for a whole week. The two newly wed were sent on a honeymoon and they were a given a small home of their own in the same enormous scarlet maple Danathanil’s parents lived in too. Years did pass by, but the two found no love between themselves. Liaral had turned into a promising mage and was working for the Tower of High Magic. She still kept flirting with young elven lords and hardly showed any affection towards her husband. But they were still obedient children of their parents and nature took its course. A seed of life started to grow within her. Finally after two years of pregnancy and on the 7th anniversary of their marriage, a baby girl was born. For a few years both young parents stayed home with their daughter, but eventually the call of their lives got stronger and the responsibility of bringing up Kayaen was handed over to Danathanil’s mother, Aliathania. Much like his father, the young warrior traveled the lands and searched wrongs to be righted and evil to be punished. But every once in a while he returned to his home to teach his beautiful daughter in the way of the sword.
Danathanil’s vocation was serving the church of Kith-jora just like his mother’s before him. Above all things, even more than his parents or his daughter, he loved the nature and spent most of his days protecting it.
Then on one of his solitary trips across the lands, the sylvari was sitting by a peaceful little brook cleaning his shining shirt of mithril chain, when he noticed something bright across the stream. Although his instincts urged him to jump up and draw his sword, his heart told him otherwise. He could feel an immense power radiating from the light, but the power was neither malicious nor evil. Instead his heart was filled with an almost unbearable amount of love. His emerald green eyes were wet with tears of happiness. His pale cheeks turned red with the heat of his blood pumping fast through his veins, and the skin all around his body was tingling with excitement. Slowly the brightness faded to a warm glow and revealed a young, beautiful elven man covered in leather, leaves and feathers. Even without the unearthly blaze of light and the Staff of Forests, well described in many great legends, Danathanil knew he had been blessed with the greatest of honors any syl could imagine. The Keeper of Seasons, Adaron himself had decided to appear to his faithful servant. The young paladin dropped his armor and rose to stand on his knees. He lowered his head in a bow and opened his arms in a silent greeting surrendering his whole being to his Lord and Maker.
No sound came from Kith-jora as he spoke, there was no movement of his perfect lips, but still Danathanil heard or felt the most beautiful of all voices inside his head. “Raise your head, my beloved son. Behold your lord and hear my words. For the fate of many may depend on them… A great and terrible evil is on the move. A mighty servant of the god whose name I shall not utter aloud is approaching the holiest of all groves. A creature neither alive nor dead is leading a powerful army towards the blessed grounds of Amantalar’men. Of all my faithful children you may be the only one able to stop the abhorrent thing before it defiles the sacred lands. You must ride fast, faster than you have ever ridden before and not rest until the evil is banished or destroyed forever. Others will meet you when you reach the holy grounds and together you shall fight and defeat the enemy… Do not worry over your four-legged friend. He shall be looked after. I will provide you with a new mount, one that does not tire and runs faster than any ordinary horse ever is able. Prepare yourself now my son, and hurry!”
As quickly as the avatar had come it also disappeared. And in the place of Danathanil’s horse stood a stallion more powerful he had ever laid his eyes on. The eyes of the magical beast shone with the same light that had radiated from the Father of the Golden Leaf, and it was pure white in color with the exception of a leaf-shaped patch of gold on its brow.
He rode fast, almost flew over the land and was first to reach the ‘Place of the blessed ground’. But only a moment later others started to arrive, and amongst them came familiar faces. Leading the assortment of sylvari was his mother Aliathania and behind her rode Liaral showing no feelings at the sight of her husband. By the end of the day more than a hundred defenders had arrived.
On the following night the fight for the sacred lands began. A small, but terrible army of evil monsters and undead creatures flowed through the forest, draining it of life as it moved. And in the lead of the horrible servants of D’hurgen, a vampire of immense power rode a beast of death. The blood-drinker’s red eyes gleamed in the night like a beacon and wherever they looked a wave of hopelessness and fear filled the sylvari. But then the unholy creature locked his horrible gaze on the young handsome paladin and met an impenetrable mind, a will of equal power to its own.
Darkness and light raised their swords in a salute and charged at each other. Neither saw nor cared about the turmoil of the fray around them. They only saw the champion of the opposite side. The syl and the vampire met in the middle of the field and struck hard at each other. They fought until the battle around them had ceased with most of the evil creatures destroyed and the fair folk not faring much better. A new day was dawning, but Danathanil’s strength was also waning. The promise of cleansing daylight drove the vampire into even more aggressive and desperate attacks and it was able to get its sword through the paladin's defenses cutting him badly. About to lose the last bit of his strength, Danathanil cried out his last prayer to Kith-jora wanting only to end the fight and kill the vampire with no care for his own being. The evil child of the night made a mistake and reached too far thinking his opponent already defeated. Instead of parrying Danathanil dropped down from the back of his mount, swung around and with all his might brought the shining blade of his sword down on the vampire’s arm cutting it cleanly apart. Then it was only a matter of pinning the creature down to the ground and waiting for the sunlight to do its work.
When the paladin awoke from his slumber, the first thing he saw was the smiling face of his dear mother. She had survived the battle, but the price of victory had been high. For among the nearly hundred dead elves, Liaral had perished too. Danathanil accepted the fact without sorrow or pain. He only felt a terrible pain inside his heart for so many of his kind who had lost their lives. Once again he realized his place was not among his loved ones. His mission to protect nature would lead him elsewhere.
Posted on 2010-01-18 at 10:29:58.
Edited on 2010-01-18 at 10:35:35 by Raven
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: Yay
Sounds very good to me and thanks for having me!
Yup. Pardinal will do. That's the info I was looking for. Regular Audalis races available? Though I'm leaning towards a human or a syl. I used to play a syl paladin (a special thing, I know) in Brom's game before, but I think he was a bit more powerful a character than the ones you're wanting. I'll see what I can come up with and send you a background.
Posted on 2010-01-17 at 19:27:24.
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Topic: Demon Wind Recruitment
Subject: Nice
Another game set in Audalis? Excellent! Always good to see "our" own game world used. I'm currently only playing in one game - Alacrity's Save the Princess. So I would gladly join another, if you'd have me.
As for characters, I'm fairly open to any type you need. System-wise, I'm all for 2nd edition, but I've played all from 1st to 3.5, so anything goes really. In my own games, I've liked to use the 2nd edition Player's Option books in character creation since they offer a possibility to create versatile characters.
A couple of questions:
Whereabouts in Audalis would the game be taking place? What level will characters be? Posting speed?
Posted on 2010-01-17 at 05:14:38.
Edited on 2010-01-17 at 05:22:15 by Raven
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: :D
All the reasons (or excuses) you need to have a schnapps or two.
Posted on 2010-01-13 at 20:38:02.
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Topic: Save The Princess, Save The Wyrm
Subject: Dig laddie, dig!
“Boswell! Jerry! Get some shovels! Try digging under the …thingie”
Brandr stood like a stone watching the two lads run towards the town to get shovels. He had no idea whether digging would solve the problem or not - what he knew of the way magic worked was very poor at best. Still, it felt like an obvious thing to try and should it fail, it would bring no harm to anything or anyone. While waiting for the kids to return, he listened to the options everyone else was offering. Ela was a Syl and according to what little experience Brandr had about her people, Syls were closer to magic than other beings. So her suggestion was probably a lot wiser than his own. Elements… The Varigads used the elements like tools to control the world and to remind the mortals of their place in the order of things. A shaman had once told him that all magic was a in a way a combination of elements. He'd understood very little there and then and knew no more today, but fighting fire with fire sounded good to him.
The big warrior was still standing motionless when the four young men came back and set to work right away without a word to the strangers trying to save their dear king. Brandr could only watch in disbelief at the ineffectiveness of their digging. It was pretty close to useless. They lacked the strength as much as they lacked the skill and they were trying to dig through the roots of the apple trees too. He was just about to offer the lads a piece of advice when the approaching wagon caught his attention. The thing was filled with strange jars and though he had no idea what they contained, the villagers obviously did. The vidar had never seen a crowd disperse so quickly. He could see the fear in people's eyes and hear some cries of warning while the locals were trying to run away.
Then Noctus started giving directions and left Brandr dumbstruck for a moment. Sure, he'd seen and heard the swashbuckler go at it before, but hells! The ranger knew he could not even think that quick - let alone offer advice to anyone. But there was one word in the stream of dozens that really caught his ear: "explosion". Now, Brandr, being from a land far far away in the cold North, was not too familiar with the concept of blowing up things. In his homeland men fought men with swords and axes - not bombs. And things like fireworks were unheard of. Sure, the vidarak brewed beer like anyone else and distilled booze they called Aekvavhit or Water of Life, and once in a while something went wrong with a big boom. But that's where his experience with explosions ended unless trembling of the earth or trees struck by balls of lightning were not taken into account.
Then Peter did what Brandr had thought of a few heartbeats earlier. The handsome priest suggested that they in the stead of the local lads would grab the shovels and started breaking sweat. Brander nodded to Peter in acceptance and followed him to the diggers. Not a man of kind and beautiful words, he simply offered one big and strong hand to one of the young men and waited for him to place his shovel in it. Nodding once more, Brander pointed further to the west and said to Peter: "Let's move away from the trees. The ground under the road would be too hard for us to get through fast enough and even still, the roots may reach there too."
Without waiting for the younger man to respond, the ranged move a couple of hundred feet away from the road with long strides and without further ado started digging.
Posted on 2010-01-13 at 20:36:56.
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