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Topic: Trilogy restart recruitment.
Subject: Interested in returning
Hi Trilogy,
It has been a while but I would be interested in returning to Trilogy although I see Lothor, my previous character, has been taken over. Would you be looking for me to create a new Character or take over an already exisitng character.
That's if you'll have me back?
Brundel
Posted on 2019-01-19 at 11:21:49.
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Topic: Murder in Baldurs gate recruitment
Subject: Brundel is back!
Hi Guys I have decided to make a return to the Inn! I would love to play in this game, if you'll have me. haven't seen much of 5e, but I am sure I can pick it up.
Glad to be back.
Posted on 2015-11-15 at 14:26:12.
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Topic: What Evil Hides in the Hearts of Men...
Subject: A Strange Town
Blair did not sheath his weapon after the fight. His adrenaline was still pumping and his senses felt heightened. Each strange echo, of which there were many, made him jump and turn to face the sound. The others seemed more relaxed but still edgy. Little was said as the group ventured through the fog, or if there was Blair did not hear it. Before long they reached the palisade wall of Crandel. A gruff voice made its way out of the mist surrounding them,
"Right then! Who goes there? State your business!"
Blair was the first to respond. "We are seeking refuge away from the suffocating mist which surrounds us. I fear I would not sleep left outside with the eerie sounds and the power of my imagination. "
"Fair enough. Ye may enter the town of Crandel, but cause no trouble." The guard replied.
As the party got closer Blair asked the guard for the most reputable place to stay in his humble town. He told him there was but one Inn - The Nicked Shill. Typical it's always about the money isn't it. I could do without these distractions. Blair thought to himself, hoping there was no dice being played inside.
The streets were unpaved and made of hard packed earth. The street was clean as were the houses with dim lights which lined the sides of the path. It gave the feel of an honest, humble and hard-working town, no different to many others Blair had been to before. The people were always welcoming and would love to hear tales about the adventurers quests.
The lights of the Inn shined through the fog around them, casting a spooky glow around the building. They could hear the loud conversations of the townsfolk inside before they entered. As the door opened and the mismatched party armed to the teeth and armoured for battle stepped inside the hall went quiet. Loud conversation was swapped for muted mutterings between the working men. Blair and the others were left standing dumbly in the entrance whilst the eyes of the townspeople judged and speculated. Soon they were rescued by a bar maid who greeted them with a smile and showed them to a free table, in a corner away from the rest of the inn's guests.
The party made their different orders. Blair had the pork and a tankard of ale, he was in the mood for getting drunk. Since the atmosphere seemed less than friendly he guessed that there would be little opportunity for a game of dice, even if there were the betting would be too low for Blair to feel the adrenaline he so craved.
With a quiet tone Blair voiced his concern. "This town is not the usual hearty and welcoming place most of its ilk are like. I am worried that there may be more to find out about the shamblers on the road."
The conversation rose and got louder, slowly, until it regained its former volume before the party had entered. At the opposite end of their long table the party began to notice the shifting stares and uneasy glares which were given from the two strangers sat down there. It was clear they were no farmers or labourers. They wore weapons much like the party's own and the woman wore a mysterious pendant which gave the illusion it was not just a flattering piece of jewellery. When she tilted her head at a particular angle the lights of the lanterns reflected silvery scars on her face, Blair had to stop himself at gasping at the sight of them. The scars marked what would have been an otherwise attractive face, however the scars perhaps added to her attraction, giving a sense of danger and mystery.
The meal was plain and the mead was weak, but Blair enjoyed it all the same. It was better than spending a night in the mist.
At the protests of her companion the mysterious woman approached the party once they had finished eating and the plates were cleared. Usually Blair would rest a hand on his weapons if another traveller approached, in this case he decided not to, her intent seemed innocent and pure.
In an accent not dissimilar to Blair's own she enters a conversation with the party. "Well met, fellow travellers. I do not recall seeing you on the road, so I would think that you did not come from the west. Any news from the east?"
Blair beckoned her closer and showed her a seat. He wanted to talk quietly with her so as not to alert any eavesdroppers.
"It would appear that the unnatural fog which surrounds this place harbours some creatures of the grave. We were attacked a few hours ago by a group of undead monstrosities, led by what can only be described as two giggling aberrations. Fortunately we have with us men of the holy orders who were able to turn the lesser minded creatures. It is a shame that they were once people, but there is no hope for them returning to their former lives. Tell me have you encountered anything similar to the west?"
(OOC: Insert Answer here.)
"Does this village not see strange to you? It is unlike most other villages of its kind, it feels uninviting and wary of outsiders."
(OOC: Hope that the dialogue is okay with everyone. Blair is very trusting and open hearted.)
Posted on 2015-02-16 at 06:10:04.
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Topic: What Evil Hides in the Hearts of Men...
Subject: The life of a peasant.
The slobbering monstrosities closed around Blair and the rest of the party. Their weak groaning eerily mixed with that of the hysterical giggling of their leaders created a scene even Blair's nightmares could not create. Nevertheless Blair stood firm next to Danon despite the chattering of his teeth and the shaking of his hands.
As a mindless one the shamblers begun their attack. Blair waited as the other, braver, members of the party stepped forward to meet their assailants face to face. Blair saw his opportunity and stabbed his sword forward. His inexperience with the weapon meant he missed, but his dagger struck home and he congratulated himself with the second wound of the fight he had inflicted. His fear and doubt was now lost. He was focused and concentrated solely on dispatching the horrors which surrounded them.
Swiftly, the grizzly warband dispersed, it was surprise to Blair who had expected his greatest fight for survival. The others had dealt with their leaders and due to the divine fervour which some members of the party possessed the undead had fled. This gave a few seconds for Blair to reflect on the events of the past few minutes whilst each of them regained their composure.
When they had first saw the ragged, limping group of unfortunate travellers he had pictured in his mind some unfortunate refugee families fleeing from the most recent crisis which had enveloped their lives, such was the life of the peasant. He had imagined their feelings, experiences and hopes these were forever lost now victims of a dreadful monster. Their lives of love and hope had been traded to wreck death and despair. He could only hope that a similar fate did not await himself.
Posted on 2015-01-28 at 15:05:24.
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Topic: What Evil Hides in the Hearts of Men...
Subject: Three Stages of Death...
Blair was pleased with his shot and a smile crept onto his face. The bolt had sunk into his ghastly foe and he was sure he had felled at least one of the aberrations before him. He was wrong. The undead figure groped slowly forward not even registering the pain which the few inches of steel must have surely caused. His smile changed to horror as he realised what he was facing.
His companions had not fared quite so well. Ta'Arms had frozen on the spot when the jaws of the giggling monstrosity closed in on his flesh. The others rallied around their comrade. Blair given the courage by the heroism of his party joined their defensive ring. He slung the crossbow over his back and drew his dagger and short sword, choosing to dual wield. He was hoping to use the dagger as a defence to ward off any sharp claws or teeth.
He stood in position hoping that he wouldn't die in the miserable obscurity of a dirt road in the drizzly weather. His father had said to him that a man's legacy lies in three types of death. First his soul dies and everything he once was is erased when the brain shuts down. Second is the burial, or decomposition of his body, the final farewells of his friends and family. Thirdly is his legacy the final stage of death is the last time his name is mentioned. He had no friends or family to speak of and his fame of the circus had long since dried up. This could very well be it all three deaths in one foul stroke. His brief imprint on the world wiped out by a group of undead and their hysterical leader.
(OOC: Blair chooses to dual wield using his dagger and short sword. I think this is on his sheet it was a while ago though! He will fall into position around Ta'Arms on one of the flanks, possibly next to Danon.)
Posted on 2015-01-15 at 14:47:49.
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Topic: What Evil Hides in the Hearts of Men - Q&A
Subject: Count me in!
Yeah would be great to get back to the Inn!
Posted on 2015-01-14 at 13:47:21.
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Topic: Relistan Q&A- Original Thread="DM Looking for Players"
Subject: feats
I have joined the game and you should feel about to view my sheet now. I wish to keep the bonus feats. The sheet is not finished but could you give it a once over for me and perhaps fill in the equipment as you feel appropriate don't worry if you don't want to I will do it when I get back.
Thanks�
Posted on 2014-07-22 at 14:04:44.
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Topic: Relistan Q&A- Original Thread="DM Looking for Players"
Subject: okay...
We are now friends!
Posted on 2014-07-22 at 13:53:20.
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Topic: Relistan Q&A- Original Thread="DM Looking for Players"
Subject: myth weaver's
Hey I am about halfway through my character sheet but how do I share it so Axio can see it?
Posted on 2014-07-22 at 07:24:56.
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Topic: DM Looking for Players
Subject: I would be interested
Hey, I would be interested in joining the party (if you'll have me of course) I have been toying with the idea of playing a disciplined caster druid/mage/sorcerer or perhaps a hybrid using the dead level system you mentioned.
Thanks
Posted on 2014-07-20 at 18:31:01.
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Topic: Brundel is Back
Subject: No problem.
Thanks Hammer.
No worries Tann it's often the way.
Posted on 2014-06-25 at 18:06:48.
Edited on 2014-06-25 at 18:06:59 by Brundel
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Topic: Brundel is Back
Subject: Brundel is Back
Hey Guys I had to leave the Inn due to work constraints.
Now though, I have found myself a lot of free time. Therefore, I will be looking for a new game to begin, or even rejoin an old one.
Posted on 2014-06-25 at 15:37:22.
Edited on 2014-06-25 at 15:37:40 by Brundel
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Topic: Xanthia: An attempt at a novel
Subject: Prologue
Four hundred years the monarchs of Xanthia had reigned. Their subjects had largely been happy, with only a few, quickly dispatched, rebellions in Xanthia’s long history. Now though their ancient reign had finally met its end.
Vasavus Coln, the new ruler of Xanthia, studied the great city’s walls. It was the moment he had been dreaming of since his boyhood. A city state, conquered by him for the glory of the Shah Empire and now he was to rule it. He could give this city a new hope, a new beginning, the start of a great history. They would love him, his name would go down in their lore and legends. He would become immortal, his name forever an echo in the corridors of time.
His horse’s hooves squelched on the flooded flatland as he progressed down the small rise in which his general’s tent had been pitched. As he looked back over his shoulder even now his servants were dismantling the grand tent in the splendid black and silver of the Shah.
A passing downfall of heavy drops in the form that Vasavus and his thousands of soldiers, attendants and camp followers had got accustomed to during their brief time in the unpredictable country fell around him. Swiftly a junior officer, recently joined from the Capital, trotted his mount to Vasavus’ side and held a parasol over his head to stop the esteemed general from getting rapidly soaked.
“A truly stupendous day for the Empire, sir.” Said the junior officer, dressed also in silver and black, with the traditional sharp features of the Shah upper class, just like himself.
“It is true Vuisen, the emperor will be pleased. However, there is still much work to be done before a real congratulations is in order.”
“Oh… sorry sir I did not mean my congratulations to be premature.” Said the young officer, looking down at the ground.
Vasavus sighed. “The fault is mine comrade, we should be enjoying this moment, not speculating the perils of the future.”
With that a silence ensued and gave time for the pair of officers to take in the carnage that took place to those born in the lower castes to them.
Bodies littered the large grassy plain before the city of Xanthia’s vast, high walls. The uniforms of the dead were barely recognisable, such was the carnage of blood and mud on the once beautifully farmed plain. The white short-haired stallion that Vasavus Coln rode had blood stained flanks as his grand procession weaved their way carefully to the city gates. As the group of generals, nobles and diplomats of faraway lands entered the city they looked little better than the veterans, and conscripts, who had fought hard in the hours of battle just minutes before, such was the devastation of the farmland. Vasavus could scarcely hide his disgust of the stench that filled his nostrils, but did his best to keep his face set, not wanting to betray his weakness to the spluttering Vuisen next to him.
“Learn from this young Vuisen. Only go to war when you are finally sure that there is no other solution.” Vasavus began lecturing the younger officer. It was one of his favoured past times. “It is widely perceived by those in the heart of the Shah. The families that never leave the glorious and illustrious capital that war is a thing of glory, of beauty even. This may have been your thoughts too, I trust that this experience has changed you. The stench, the blood, the ravens, the flies, the shit and the death. Remember that someday you will order men, with hopes and dreams, with families and enemies, with courage and fear you will order them to their death. They will be buried in mass graves with no care who is on which side, no grieving wives and children beside their grave, only a letter the same as any other man’s death letter. A successful leader is not one who ignores this it is one who embraces it.” Vasavus finished and took a deep breath, the stench of death once again burning his nostrils.
Vuisen looked visibly shaken by Vasavus’ words and by the assault an hour old battlefield gives you on your senses. As if to accentuate the idea of the horror of a battlefield the audible crunching of bones from behind as the four hundred or so entourage came over the battlefield uncaring and jovial. The day was won.
Vasavus entered through the city a broad smile across his face. The populace should be in wild fervour, he had freed them from their oppressive rulers. What he found however, was of stark contrast. Silence.
Through the southern gate, from which Vasavus entered, was the living environment of the mass working populace of Xanthia. From what Vasavus had read, and been lectured about, the plaza in which his powerful, bloostained horse was now stepping into was normally the place of formal celebrations and one of the largest marketplaces on the continent, yet today it was empty. The crowds Vasavus had been expecting to be lining the city’s streets were non-existent. Instead he was greeted by locked doors and barred shutters.
At least in its tranquillity he could take in its beauty. The floor here was not the dusty, littered roads the rest of the outer city was famed for. Four hundred square metres of marble, laid precisely into a mesmerising mosaic of black and white stone leading into different spirals all entwining and overlapping with each other. It would not take long for his architects and builders to rip this up and replace with something more suitable.
This wonderful, yet too creative, piece of architecture did not sustain Vasavus’ previously ecstatic mood. He felt his anger rising, this was not what he had dreamed of over the last few years of campaigning in this drab, uninspiring land. He turned to see some of the foreign diplomats, some from the struggling Coth Empire and others from all around Shah’s ever growing colonies, smirking and looking at him with a sense of pity. His anger rose quicker still.
As he continued through the roughly paved and mismatched streets the rain still hammered around him and Vuisen, who had so kindly surrendered his parasol, was dripping from head to toe. He had to commend the young man for his lack of complaining and self-sacrifice, his estimation of the man had gone up.
It was nearly dusk when the procession made its way to the last regiment of the defeated army. Old withered veterans and young boys, some had only saw ten summers others looked like they had seen a hundred, stood guard at the gates to the inner city. Vasavus did not fear them, his guards were close behind and they were the elites of the Shah, sworn to protect him.
Begrudgingly the guards parted and opened the creaking iron gates to let him through. The younger members of the guard stared up in awe at the gilded plate work of his armour; the older guards however stared at him, fierce hatred in their eyes, some even hawked and spat on the floor. Perhaps this would be harder than first thought.
As the gates opened he was finally met by a welcoming party. The lesser nobles, and courtiers and come out in their finest silks to welcome their new leader. As he passed they smiled and gave similar welcoming gestures. He did not smile back. His face held a firm tight expression, he would have to strike some sort of fear into these potentially ambitious nobles. They would have to respect him and he was not willing to give any compromise, they would bend or break under his rule.
A hundred metres in front a raised dais had been hastily erected and five figures stood there, obviously awaiting his company. Brast was there all in black as usual, the uniform of the inquisition, the man who was really responsible for the fall of the city. His two most acclaimed Hands stood behind him, Ethok and Crosk twins born into the same life of hatred. They were monsters of men both reaching over seven feet tall and broader than any man he had seen. Next to the three men garbed in black were, the high priest of the Pentathon, the five gods of Xanthia, dressed in even more outrageous and flamboyant colours than he had been warned about.
Vuisen dropped back and let Vasavus approach the stage alone. The rain had begun to ease off, but the smaller drops that kept falling were still a nuisance and he shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. The nobles lined the sides of his straight route to the dais and the finery of their attire increased the closer he got to the stage. Vasavus also noted the smattering of priests in the crowd, there were always five of the priests grouped together and their garments were always filled with gaudy and flamboyant colours. This seemed a strange custom to him, for the Shah had no gods only the belief of working towards a greater good for all.
He reached the dais and dismounted gracefully, trying to avoid the blood that stained his horse’s flanks, still wet and running because of the now misty and drizzling rain. Vasavus let out his first wave to the crowd and put a terse smile across his face. Some of the nobles cheered, but most just whispered into one another’s ears, making their first impressions known to those around them.
Vasavus reached the steps to the platform and mounted them. He nodded abruptly, to Brast and the greeting was returned their place in the hierarchy was as equals, yet Brast was Vasaus’ man. The next man he met was the flamboyantly dressed priest, they grasped forearms and Vasavus lent in to whisper into the priests ear.
“I hope you have redoubled your praying to your gods. There is a great change ahead and I am unsure the Shah Empire welcomes heathen gods.”
The priest was rapid in reply however. “Do you really believe that it is man’s right to choose the gods?”
With that the priest broke off the traditional greeting and smiled broadly, lifting his arms he called out to the crowd below them.
“Lords and ladies alike. It is with the utmost pleasure that I tell you that the gods came to me last night each one of the pentathon. They told me Xanthia would become a place of turmoil, a place of change, a place where they may smile upon us.” The priest’s voice changed now, instead of booming loud, it seemed but a whisper, yet it reached every ear. “With this promise of hope they also forewarned of those who would become unbelievers. Instead of smiling upon their worshippers, they would turn to anger and hate. A lifetime of ill luck and an eternity pain await those who turn their backs upon the gods. That was their warning.”
Suddenly, the priest turned and made for the steps leading off of the stage. Surely he must know he has condemned himself to death, yet he has no fear. Curious. Vasavus thought. More importantly however, he must rescue the situation. The war would no longer be fought with sharp swords and sturdy armour, it was a war of tongues and gold.
“People of Xanthia, is it not true that the your gods send messages to their prophets, but it is those prophets who must decipher that message. I urge you to think about the high priests words. Would he not be against a change? He was showered with gold, given good meals and a comfortable living and all he must tend to is deciphering some hazy dreams. The Shah wish to welcome you to our empire. It is a chance for you all, to reach new heights of power, wealth and pleasure.”
There were murmurs of approval throughout the crowd and Vasavus was content for now. At least the priest’s unexpected act of martyrdom was not a total disaster. Now it was time for the speech he had been preparing for years, when reaching this moment was but a thought in the wind. Now it was happening.
Posted on 2014-01-30 at 20:26:48.
Edited on 2014-01-30 at 20:27:17 by Brundel
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Topic: Xanthia: An attempt at a novel
Subject: Xanthia: An attempt at a novel
I am in the process of attempting to write a fantasy novel. I intend to post my efforts here, or at least snippets of my writing.
Set in the city of Xanthia (and maybe the kingdom which it is set in). A new force has invaded, the Shah empire, they are ever expanding and warlike. they pride themselves on their efficiency and engineering, they believe in strict rule and a world where people are born into a caste, they cannot break out of their birthcaste and each member of society is set to do a particular job in order to keep the Empire running, whether this be a builder, a waste collector or a politician, diplomat, or even part of their intelligence network.
The story focuses on two main characters. One is lazy and workshy and a native of Xanthia. the other is a true believer in the ways of the Shah and believes wholly in their ethics and policies.
Both of these young men are quickly enveloped into two rival factions of Xanthia. The strict dictatorship of the Shah empire and the more liberal and freedom seeking of the Sevari Brotherhood. Both find themselves escalating in these power systems and are forever intertwining with each others lives, yet they do not know this.
The lazy and unambitious character, Danacus, is put into a world of love and passion and a search for new feelings of ecstasy. Whereas the overly-ambitious and logical character, Bennavius, is set on turning Xanthia into another colony of the Shah where strict order and logic must be rigorously followed. One day he dreams of being emperor of the Shah empire and showing the whole world to the greatness of the Shah's efficiency.
Unknown to these totally different young men is that there actions will be pivotal in developing Xanthia as a city state.
I will be writing in different chapters mainly from the point of view of these two characters, however some other chapters will be devoted to other sub-characters who will impact both their lives and Xanthia itself.
Feedback is welcome and please don't be afraid to be critical for this is the best type of feedback!
Posted on 2014-01-30 at 20:24:16.
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Topic: Treasure Seekers
Subject: charges... what charges?
Mylos could not help but gawp, open mouthed at the immense strength of the gargantuan bird carrying a massive boulder flying far above. As they beat their wings and got within range of Areldor’s deadly fire wand, one bolt was set loose and smashed into the unsuspecting Roc and its wildly gesticulating rider. Flames engulfed the pair and Mylos could hear the screeching of the burning bird as it plunged downwards towards the sea.
Mylos whooped with joy and encouraged his fellow seeker to throw another one at the next oncoming Roc. He let loose again and the bolt of flame found its target once more and another screeching bird was sent plunging to the watery depths. Within moments the third Roc had experienced the same fiery end and surely the day was saved!
Mylos was experiencing a feeling of elation he had rarely felt before, a moment of panic had changed to a feeling of safety, much like his warm hearth at home with his parents. Because of this Mylos had not much considered the fact that the rod of fire had a limited number of charges. As Areldor readied himself once more to vanquish the flying attackers Mylos prepared himself once more for a fiery bolt surging towards their foes, but the result was anti-climactic.
This time a fiery bolt was not unleashed, but instead an unsatisfying pffffffftttttttt. The wand had finally run out and the boulder wielding Roc and rider were approaching ever faster. Finding his resolve once more Mylos took aim and waited for the giant bird to come into range before he would release his bolt.
Posted on 2014-01-21 at 21:43:42.
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Topic: Treasure Seekers
Subject: Out of a maelstrom a Gnome's Courage was born.
Mylos waited by the docks looking out into the sea, wondering what awaited him in the next port he visited. He suspected that his surroundings would be far less peaceful. The sun beamed down on the water giving the ocean a golden sheen, much like the coins he held in his palm, perhaps it was an omen.
His thoughts were interrupted when the fellow gnome Ody approached him with a small black pouch in his hand. How curious he thought to himself. The Gnome, a similar stature and build to himself, explained what lay in the pouch. Apparently at the base of the bag lay a small ball, when this is thrown to the ground an animal appears, and from what Ody told him they were fearsome too.
When the seekers stepped onto the deck of The Toothless Dragon the atmosphere of the crew had changed considerably. The smiles that had previously adorned their faces were replaced with cold, stern looks. Mylos’ almost permanent smile vanished and was replaced with his best attempt at looking tough.
The journey itself was also far different than that of their, relatively pleasant, cruise to the isle of Tagea. Night fell and seemed to illuminate the flaming torches and arrows, worryingly pointed in their direction from the shoreline of the port Eluythus. The Stout Hearts and their captain were somewhat overly calm about the alarming weapons.
The arrows were loosed and Mylos felt himself wince. He itched to find cover on the vessel, but since no-one else appeared to be taking such cowardly precautions he stood fast. The arrows’ path looped high over The Toothless Dragon and hissed as they fell into the sea, far enough away not to worry him. It appeared this was not an act of deterrence, but instead a tradition of the city and soon huge, bulky and powerful ships began to traverse their way down the River Innes. The arrows were a declaration of War.
Dawn came on their second day of travel and Mylos rose, feeling surprisingly refreshed. He strode out onto the deck, the sky today was not as golden as the day they left, in fact it was quite the opposite. The cold morning air bit through his clothes and tore into his skin and rain hammered down, the thuds were audible as the drops crashed about the wooden planks around him. A shiver rolled up his spine, to Mylos this was a feeling of pleasure and a smile crept onto his face. He had always loved the feel of the natural elements on his skin; whether it was plunging headfirst into the rivers that flowed into his homeland or stripping down to his underclothes when a storm hit, letting the gods of nature berate him, it made him feel alive. Mylos looked down at the waves crashing into the ship’s bow and decided that he would not be taking a dive into this body of roiling water any time soon.
The storm hit even harder day after day and Mylos was thankful that Captain Crayfish had kept close to the shoreline, otherwise the storm may well of destroyed the ship. If the worst did happen and the ship began to break apart under the duress of the storm at least they would be near shore and a few of them may make it to the nearest beach alive.
On the fourth day Mylos was highly encouraged by the positive relationship, both the crew and their Captain had; the weather had reached even new heights of ferociousness, yet The Toothless Dragon still made its way westward to the city of Orgstall. The crew were in a good mood throughout trading stories and singing songs and Mylos as the resident bard on the ship helped to lead some of these sing-alongs.
Day six and the storm had finally given up on its unrelenting assault upon the ship and its crew. Mylos gave a thankful prayer to all of the gods he could remember, but a few minutes later he regretted alerting the gods to his cause. Clearly, not all the gods he his tongue had mentioned were those with good intentions towards him.
A body of water, gargantuan in size opened up through the trailing fog of the storm. It swirled impossibly fast, waves of a size he could scarcely of imagined crashed into one another. Mylos had never seen a thing so wonderful, its destructive power was incredible. Time seemed to slow. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins. Only a few of the sentient beings who had ever lived in this land had seen a thing of so much wonder and although his death may be imminent he felt privileged, he was almost happy for his life to end in such a maelstrom.
His life however, appeared to be in safe hands and once more he was astounded at the competence, trust and courage of the Stout Hearts. Seemingly through the sheer will of Crayfish and his crew The Toothless Dragon dragged its way clear of the impressive feat of nature.
After a few hours of calmer weather and seas the feeling amongst the crew and the seekers seemed to be a mixture of relief and anticlimactic excitement. After several more days of drizzly rain and uncomfortable and unexciting weather the ship managed to reach the isle of Thuleya and the weather began to improve.
More land became evident the next day and there was more new sights and excitement for the young Gnome Bard. A great marshland surrounded by a few thickets of trees held stage to a skirmish between Hill Giants and Barbarian warriors. Mylos had never seen a giant before and had always thought that they were creatures of myth used to scare infants in their cots. Here though, they were clearly real, ferocious and dangerous. Mylos was so wrapped up in the ensuing battle he did not notice the Hill Giants lifting great boulders and hurling them into the surf! Mylos began to jeer and shout at the hostile giants noting some of the more grizzly insults which the crew were launching at the Giants in reply to their boulders.
Strange sounds began to be heard from the shoreline as the ship progressed closer and closer to their chosen port of Orgstall. It put Mylos on edge and after the stressful voyage he was beginning to wonder if he had got himself too entangled into a battle that wasn’t his.
After a well needed good night’s sleep and time for silent reflections Mylos awoke to the howls and shouts of the Stout Hearts, it would appear their destination was in sight. Once Mylos was dressed he opened the hatch from down below and entered onto the deck and the sound of steel on steel was carried faintly by the breeze. They were late. The battle for Orgstall had begun!
Mylos was busy, fiddling with a coin and worrying about the trials and tribulations the sudden shout by the ever aware Dagger made him jump. He fumbled the coin and bent to pick it up and he realised what the Dwarf War Cleric had just shouted.
“ORCS ON ROCS!”
Mylos knew what an Orc was, as did most of the races of Airhde, but what was a Roc. He scanned the horizon but could see no enemy upon the sea. Only when the other crew members begun pointing into the sky did he look up and see the magnificent, winged creatures. A thrill of terror went through him and he was reminded of the magnificent maelstrom he had witnessed and how he had come to terms with his own death. The fear was still there, a niggling worry, but he didn’t feel the need to run. He had friends with him, comrades of a hard voyage. He would stand fast. His bolts would fly true. So this was courage he thought to himself, the thing I have read about in story books, the feeling heroes have in the times of danger.
Posted on 2013-12-11 at 20:08:10.
Edited on 2013-12-11 at 20:20:10 by Brundel
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Topic: What Evil Hides in the Hearts of Men...
Subject: To Battle...
Blair was glad that the team had responded to En’Aranthea and had moved into their respected positions, though their weapons were still drawn. The party relaxed a little from the call of caution and as they neared the shuffling group ahead Jarenion the mage called out to the others after muttering some incantation from beneath his breath.
“It would seem, melloneamin that Galardil had the right of it, and the odious aura of necromancy hangs about the folk ahead. Mind yourselves!”
Blair reacted quickly to the mages call and drew his hand crossbow, loading it quickly. When only a few yards from the approaching undead a twig snapped from underneath one of the party’s boots and a gruesome sight quickly revealed itself.
Flesh hung off of bone as if melted away like a wax candle in front of a hot fire. The movements of the group were unorthodox and lazy, that was until maniacal laughter broke out from the only member of the group who didn’t have haunting eyes. The creature did however have pointed fangs and what looked like some sort of control over the other grim undead.
Blair steadied himself as the pointed-fanged creature began laughing and loosed his bolt, hoping to quiet the crazed creature.
(OOC: Blair will loose his bolt at the fanged creature.)
Posted on 2013-11-12 at 19:49:49.
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Topic: What Evil Hides in the Hearts of Men - Q&A
Subject: oooops
Sorry Hammer I will amend my post immediately
Posted on 2013-11-12 at 19:20:48.
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Topic: The Resurrection; or Tek has returned
Subject: Overcommited.
Sorry Tek but I will not be carrying on A single Stone.
I was really enjoying the adventure but because I thought it was fizzled I have joined another game and I am afraid I will not be able to find the time to respond actively to four different games.
Posted on 2013-11-12 at 19:18:26.
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Topic: What Evil Hides in the Hearts of Men...
Subject: Hasty speculation always leads to trouble
Blair was in high spirits. The weather had been the best he had seen in a long while and if there was one thing he had learnt in his years of roaming the world it was that travelling in poor weather was among one of the most uncomfortable experiences. His purse was in one of the healthiest states it had ever been, even at the height of his career in the Cirque Du Pallet he struggled to make as much coin as he had now. Of course though there had been significantly less distractions whilst journeying with the party.
Blair could not wait to get to Crandel and make his already fair amount of coins double or even triple. When Blair was young and getting his first taste of gambling with his father, he had said to his son ‘The secret of being a gambler was to always be an optimist.’ Over his years Blair worried that he may have taken this advice a bit too literally over the years, but this was a small worry pushed right to the back of his mind, which only surfaced in times of trouble when he looked for someone to blame for his most recent demise.
Blair was whistling tunelessly and fiddling with the pair of dice in his pocket when the feeling of unease settled over the party. Abruptly his whistling stopped and his fingers began fiddling with the weapons at his waist. The last few months had taught him well enough the benefits of being prepared.
Figures started to emerge through the misty haze that had quickly blanketed the road ahead and only the restraint of the others from pulling their weapons stopped Blair from unsheathing his own. Soon it became apparent that the figures did not seem unnatural, at least not from that difference and Blair relaxed a little. The group was moving slowly and seemed not to notice the party before them.
“I dislike the look of this very much. Folk in their apparent state would have cozied themselves away somewhere in Crandel given this weather, don’t you think?” Stated Jarenion. Blair was alarmed once more and his hands went back to his weapons.
Rae was next to join the speculation of what these figures of the mist might be. "They walk strangely. Perhaps an illness has pressed its advantage with the advent of this fog?"
"To Arms My Friends! Yon Figures in the Mist May Be Unliving!" The usually jovial Half-Syl called out, expressing his thought that there may be danger ahead. Blair did not unsheathe his weapons, but he did check they were loose.
"Stop, my friends," Pleaded Danon. "We know not for certain the nature of these travellers. They could just be weary, or ill. To advance upon them with weapons drawn could have us mistaken for brigands. We should be looking to help them, not scare or provoke them."
Blair found himself siding with Danon and moved swiftly to help him intercept the now weapon wielding trio. “I agree, we do not know enough about this situation to jump to hasty conclusions.”
Blair stood in front of his companions with Danon and En’Aranthea. The sylvari called them to a formation, though with no weapons drawn, and Blair hastily responded to her voice, she had made life-saving decisions before now.
Posted on 2013-11-11 at 19:59:01.
Edited on 2013-11-12 at 19:24:29 by Brundel
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Topic: Treasure Seekers
Subject: Big Backpost!
The party, including Mylos were running towards the ship, hastened by the beckoning gestures and calls of the crew. As they drew closer Mylos could hear the reason why they were being rushed. A ship had been spotted on the horizon and it was not yet clear whether they be friend or foe.
As the crew, and the seekers, made it to the ship Captain Crayfish did a quick count of his crew. Nodding his head in satisfaction they were ordered to let slip. After moving away from the coast and navigating their way through the reefs and wreckages that surrounded the coastline of the island the crew and the seekers quickly realised that they were being pursued. The ship that had previously been on the horizon were rapidly catching up with them.
Mylos was busy counting the coins he had scattered about his person before he realised just how close the approaching ship was to them. Quickly, but carefully, Mylos stashed the different types of coins in their appropriate pouches and pockets grabbing hold of a handrail, he could be in for a rough ride.
Mylos had only ever travelled on the peaceful rivers of his homeland and a battle on the high sea was a totally new and unfounded experience. Clutching to the handrail as though it was made of gold coins Mylos hunkered down prepared to cling on for his life.
Word quickly got round that ‘The Stomper’ was the captain of the crew who was chasing them. Mylos had never heard of the name, but one of the crew members hastily explained while tying a knot to the handrail he was desperately clutching. His reputation did little to settle Mylos’ nerves.
In what seemed a blur and flurry of excitement a sudden gust rose around the ship accompanied by incantations from Tohmas. Mylos had seen magic being used before and what came next did not shock the young gnome.
A burst of fire shot from the newly acquired wand in Areldor’s hands. The fiery bolt smashed into the mast of the enemy ship alighting it, and the nearest crewmembers. The crew of The Stomper had but a momentary rest to fire a few arrows in reply to Areldor, but the quick thinking paladin, Jaufre, covered him with his shield, possibly saving his life.
Mylos was so busy watching the heroic effort of the paladin that he did not notice the Captains daring plan. The ship was thundering towards The Stomper the ram on the hull fully extended. Mylos braced himself once more preparing himself for the collision.
With a huge, splintering crash the two boats collided. The Stompers crew was disorganised and unready for the bone-jarring impact some of the crew went flying across the deck, some even fell into the surrounding water. The Toothless Dragon had broken free of The Stomper, who had no chance of pursuit. The mast was burning still, along with the decking beneath and the front end of the boat was taking on heavy loads of water.
Just as Mylos loosened his grip on the handrail he clutched it tightly once more as a huge creature broke free of the sea displacing a large amount of water. In one fluid movement it too crashed into The Stomper ending what little attempt of a pursuit the crew were trying to rescue. Mylos could not wrestle his eyes away from the monstrous, but marvellous, creature and it wasn’t long before he recognised the Beaked Dragon from the cavern before.
Once the battle was over the rest of the voyage was calm. The crew’s spirits were high after their triumph against the legendary Stomper, but Mylos could not share their enjoyment. After the excitement of the fight against the skeletons, his narrow escape from the Beaked Dragon and the skirmish between the two ships he could not help but feel anticlimactic, he craved for more adventure!
* *
The seekers had returned triumphant. Mad Dog seemed genuinely surprised that they had all returned well and from what Mylos had seen of Mad dog he got the impression that genuine surprise rarely registered on his hardened, scarred features.
Soon the talk got down to their rewards. Five thousand Gold Coins was a fortune in the young Gnome’s eyes. A whole generation in his village would be lucky to see that amount of coin in their lifetime let alone a week.
Later, after washing and freshening up the seekers were invited to a private banquet at the Mad Dog’s request. There they were joined by Damar the sole survivor of a similar exploring party to theirs, this put into perspective the seekers narrow escape and the reasoning behind the rich reward.
After being richly fed and lavishly treated the party were invited down to the Mad Dog’s own speciality Shoppe where specialised goods of the highest quality could be purchased. Although Mylos was reluctant to depart with his dearly beloved coins, he realised the importance of staying alive so that he could add more coins to his ever growing collection.
OOC: Shopping list
300 silver bolts
Elf Mail shirt (tailored to fit?)
5 potions of Cure serious Wounds
1 potion of Cure Critical Wounds
50 rations of dried meat and mixed fruit
(4500GP)
Posted on 2013-11-08 at 23:28:40.
Edited on 2013-11-10 at 16:24:27 by Brundel
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Topic: What Evil Hides in the Hearts of Men - Q&A
Subject: Leadership and a backstory.
Firstly, Blair has no interest in becoming group leader. As previously stated he has far too much baggage and his decision making is poor. He sees himself as a professional just doing a job for the party.
Secondly, I would be interested in talking further about Blairs possible link with Rae and Danon. They could very well of met him when he was in the deepest of his months.
Posted on 2013-11-06 at 21:19:22.
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Topic: Need stout hearted players (2e D&D)
Subject: A mage you say...
I would be interested in grabbing that final spot. I have wanted to play a mage for a while since 'A Single Stone' has fizzled out a little bit.
I could come up with a character with substance in the next few days. If you will have me of course.
Posted on 2013-11-01 at 16:43:02.
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Topic: Treasure Seekers QnA
Subject: Mylos is in
Sorry I have been a bit inactive lately but Mylos will be in for the next adventure.
Posted on 2013-11-01 at 16:40:31.
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Topic: Treasure Seekers
Subject: Back to the Boats!
The party set off, bright torches opening up the gloominess of the cavern. Mylos followed the heavily laden chest up the stairs eagerly grasping and grabbing any coins that spilled over the edge. Mylos liked to fill time by creating small games that he could play, else his short attention span often led him to boredom and mischievousness. However, this greediness and escape from boredom was soon to be his downfall, quite literally.
So engrossed was Mylos in stuffing his hands, pockets and anywhere else on his person he could find space he stumbled upon one of the jagged stone stairs causing him to put his hands out to his side. He tried to balance himself rotating his arms wildly, but it was no use and Mylos fell backwards. His body smacked down again and again onto the hard stairs until he had flown down nearly three flights of stairs. To begin with it was not the pain that hurt but the loss of nearly all his coins. As he had tumbled down he had let go of the coins he had in his hands and the ones in his pockets had spilt too.
Mylos rose and his body ached but it appeared any wounds he had picked up were superficial, mere cuts and grazes. Mylos had picked up enough of them during his youth that he could easily ignore the pain, he would tend to them once they reached the boat or maybe even dry ground.
Mylos noticed that a lot of his personal booty had bounced and fallen into the pool, ripples were still spreading to the surface from where each coin had landed. Mylos was cautious but began to approach the pool of grey water, his curiosity peeked. Mylos stood there for a few seconds staring into the murky depths. Bubbles began rising to the surface as if a creature was rising from the depths to break through at the surface. Mylos decided it was time to leave the bottom of the cavern fear overtaking his curiosity.
Mylos took the stairs two at a time keen to rejoin his comrades As he reached the second landing what looked like a Dragon emerged from the murky pool, its slumber obviously disturbed by the smattering of coins that had fell earlier. Mylos scrambled up the final stairwell on his hands and knees desperate to get out of the fearsome creatures reach.
Like most of the party Mylos was keen to leave the cavern and the Dragon, they had plenty of treasure to haul back to the city and Mylos couldn't wait for his reward.
Posted on 2013-08-29 at 11:09:41.
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What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
The Morphing Game
Return to Charadun - Recr
