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Topic: A new D&D game?
Subject: Yes!
I haven't played second edition in a long time and was looking forward to a return to it. I'd love to get a character concept percolating, I just ask what you're thinking for starting level and alignment. I'd rather not fall in love with a concept, only to discover I was barking up the wrong tree. In the meantime I will pour over the 2nd edition books and reacquaint myself.
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-07-12 at 21:57:48.
Edited on 2011-07-12 at 21:58:34 by Dragonblood
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Topic: Back in Action
Subject: Huzzah!
Glad to see you're well and back again! I hope life returns smoothly to its happy rhythm of trying to fit the inn between the chaos of work and real life.
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-07-12 at 21:51:36.
Edited on 2011-07-12 at 21:52:26 by Dragonblood
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Topic: Loaded Dice #72 - Can We Just Get on With it?
Subject: Good stuff
I'm just glad to see that Loaded Dice is running more consistently again! I think the players themselves are looking better than they ever looked, particularly Steve in some of the close-ups! One spelling error I noticed was towards has been spelt towares in the first panel. Otherwise great stuff! Thanks for keeping us entertained.
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-07-12 at 21:49:30.
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Topic: Kaelyn outta commission
Subject: Get well!
I'm sorry to hear you're having health issues kaelyn, I hope you get better very soon and can get back to playing with us here on the inn and more importantly living a happy healthy life. Please keep us posted on your condition if you can.
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-07-03 at 22:04:47.
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Topic: A new D&D game?
Subject: One more with interest
Well even if I was too busy with games I probably couldn't resist this. If you will have me, I too would like to reserve a spot in your crew of adventurers/victims. I've also been fascinated with audalis for awhile and almost ran a game there before I was lured into playing. Here's to hoping this game comes to fruition!
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-07-02 at 17:38:10.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: What's up?
I don't mean to be pushy or anything I'm just eager to get this game going past the opening hook. Should we start doing some rping or something to keep the ball rolling? I'm just worried it'll die before it even really got going.
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-06-29 at 21:54:46.
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Topic: Updates from Kaelyn
Subject: Looking forward to it!
Glad to hear it, I eagerly await Tuesday!
Hope the vacation went well and they aren't working you too hard as payback.
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-06-26 at 18:14:33.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: Hurray!
Glad to hear it! Personally, I haven't had any time to get out to somewhere with internet in the past two weeks so its nice to hear that I haven't missed too much in absence. I'll refrain from adding my fluff post I'd suggested earlier if we're just about to move on anyway. Looking forward to it!
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-06-23 at 20:32:10.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: hm
Well I may see if I can't cook up a little fluff post just to keep things moving, maybe something that might lead to some roleplaying while we await Kaelyn's return. With such a strange variety of characters, I just can't wait to see how they interact. Oh and by the way my CD point for this latest update goes to Phelan for giving us a glimpse into Vicente's past, thanks for the fun read!
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-06-13 at 21:01:57.
Edited on 2011-06-13 at 21:02:21 by Dragonblood
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: Hm...
Let's just hope the whole thing doesn't literally blow up because we're still pretty close to it!
I suppose we're not really waiting on Kaelyn considering he doesn't have much to update yet - this seems a prime time to do some role playing. I guess it's kinda hypocritical of me to say of course because Joseph will not be the first to start conversation, the same goes for Vicente I gather. Well I'd love to fire up a conversation between the characters I just won't be the first to do so, don't mean to pass the buck but... there you have it.
There's been some great reading so far, I'd say. Phelan, your latest post was a great read, some nice insight into the character without giving it all away. I look forward to finding out more about him!
Oh, one last thing that doesn't matter much at all - Joseph's actions were to wait until everyone had evacuated the building then he went to go retrieve the man from the backroom but saw that Atharam was already heading in that direction so he went outside. It seems Joseph and Vicente acted almost identically. 
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-06-07 at 16:03:59.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time
Subject: huh
The rhythmic work of muscle sheeted with sweat beneath the blazing flames, forged through furniture to find an escape from the fire. The mangled pile of wooden limbs and planks were torn from the door and scattered along the taproom floor leaving but a door easily yanked from its place. The cool air snaked in, hungrily seeking out smoky lungs as clouds of smoke chimneyed out. The limp body, once flowing with the life and magic to draw forth eight would-be heroes from across the planes, now hung like an oven roasted rag doll in the arms of an armored men. The figure, fashioned like a knight, emerged from the smoke and flame, rescuing the corpse of their caller, bathed in the breeze that wandered across the outdoor world.
Joseph watched the man disappear through the doorframe. This man of steel is smarter than the soldiers I have come across in the past - simpletons who think strength is found in sword and shield. Joseph, himself, had eyed the body mourning its flaming mausoleum, but his desire to save the beasts had restricted him from saving the evidence. If I do not agree with the philosophies this man has built an existence of righteous warfare off of, at least I may rely on him for some measure of prudence. Joseph thought to himself.
Joseph’s eyes fell over the nest of wood and flame they had been transported to. The one woman who’d been called to join them in saving Nomachron had wisely escaped through the window. The knight had exited with the dead body that had united them. The man who had remained calm and collected through the entire ordeal also had found freedom.
That left three men and two animals. Joseph noticed that the other armoured man, who had brought the horse now stood as an ushering directing the party out the door. Still inside the room, the elf that had been perplexed by Tristessa’s presence had finally lit a lamp. Exploring the hallway was another man Joseph remembered. There was a moment’s pause. He did not wish to move until the horse had found safety but the man who had hurried down the other exit from the room was in danger. He looked to the Paladin at the door. The man would not be careless enough to leave his beast in a burning building. Just as he thought it, the warhorse was sown out into the open air.
They moved almost at the same time, Joseph and the armored man both took steps towards the door the man had disappeared down. Joseph stopped and allowed the knight to bring the man back to safety, he had to ensure Tristessa’s safety anyway. Joseph plucked up his quarter staff and let out a low whistle. As the druid guided the wolf through the front door he saw the elf following the plate-mailed man. Why it would take two to bring him back to safety, Joseph could not understand but it was not his concern.
Wind licked over his sweaty, smoky skin and Joseph sucked in a long breath, his hands buried in Tristessa’s fur. Now that he was safe from the blaze his mind began to race to catch him up with how he had been brought here. It seemed now to be such an impulsive decision to put foot through portal, trusting completely the disembodied voice that had asked his help in saving Nomachron. Scurrying back into the past Joseph now felt the full hit of the crushing depression that had encouraged the decision. Decay and destruction had stolen Belia, the face of hope in his life from him. The bitterness and loneliness of this realization flooded through him bogging down limbs. He felt exhausted and angry suddenly, the idea that he had moments ago been tossing furniture with vigor seemed absurd, he had such little energy now.
Joseph turned his eyes to the small circle of people who had been brought together. Why these seven. What’s so special about us? Joseph wondered. He knew he had some greatness written into his fate but he had not expected to be called to save the world so early in his life. Was he strong enough for such a task, he certainly did not feel so now. Perhaps there had been some mistake? Was there any chance somewhere in the world an armour clad man who bore a shining sword and sought the salvation of the planes had the same name as he? Unlikely, Joseph thought.
So what now? Did he stay with this random gathering and try to answer the confused questions that must be pounding through everyone’s brain now or did he go? He had no reason to stay with these people. He’d been saved from the swamp, perhaps he could continue wandering from here? The nomad’s brown eyes shot across the land before them. The copper spigot was obviously a road stop between two cities because only a stripe of highway was drawn across the hilly back of the land.
Glancing back at the inn, he considered the barrels of alcohol that were likely behind the bar and Joseph realized if the fire lit upon those kegs the entire building might serve as one devastating bomb. Moving away from the inn he looked out on the wild laid out before him. A deep pain shocked through his heart and caught itself in his throat. He knew that this must be an invitation from the Gods. If he did not accept, his desires may never be realized. His solitude and his wandering was a mighty sacrifice to be begged by the gods and it left an empty, angry feeling in the pit of his belly. He would rise to meet such a challenge then. Whatever they asked of him, he would give, so be it.
Joseph turned back to see the silhouettes of his new party members against the blaze of the copper spigot. So where would they turn now, what did the road hold for them? Many questions faced the newly formed group and Joseph would do what he could to contribute to answers. It seemed likely that he had seen more of the natural world than any of the others who were with him, perhaps he could recognize his surroundings from the poetry he’d read, or maybe his travels had even taken him near here. He looked over the landscape seeking out any familiar signs. What little Joseph could offer was at the service of the Scarred Lands.
((OOC: Knowledge (Geography) check to see if he recognizes his surroundings))
Posted on 2011-06-03 at 19:05:50.
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Topic: Wikipedia Scavenger Hunt
Subject: on it
Okay my random article was DC Comics Presents.
From there this is what I did:
1. Rex the Wonder Dog
2. German Shepherd Dog
3. Dog
4. Poodle
Let's try... Instant Noodles
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-26 at 19:25:51.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: Cheers!
Thanks Clockwork, I'm flattered! I look forward to watching Savan develop, and our amiable enmity. 
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-26 at 18:40:18.
Edited on 2011-05-26 at 19:19:55 by Dragonblood
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Topic: Iron Age QA
Subject: update
Currently Shield Wolf has no internet, I believe he's not sure himself when he'll get the next opportunity to update. Looks like it's the waiting game for us. :/
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-26 at 18:34:11.
Edited on 2011-05-26 at 19:20:55 by Dragonblood
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: Great Reading!
I thoroughly enjoyed reading the latest two posts, thanks for the fun reads after a long work day, it did just the trick.
I'm going to give my CD point to Tek, the insight into the character in both his posts was wonderful, not to mention the writing was also a treat. Good stuff! 
Looking forward to the update!
Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-26 at 00:20:22.
Edited on 2011-05-26 at 00:20:57 by Dragonblood
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Topic: Absent Wolf
Subject: darn it
Just found this thread, needless to say I'm disappointed and looking forward to your return. I hope the lack of a computer doesn't originate from or foster other inconveniences or problems for you. Can't wait for Iron Age to get going again!
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-22 at 19:45:26.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: cd points and such
I wasn't sure whether a well-written post was enough to warrant CD points but now I will await everyone's second post and consider giving out a CD point.
Looking forward to Wednesday!
-Dragonblood
ps. Skye, as I returned from a one-night camp this morning I grabbed myself eggs benny on the way back into the city. Yourself?
Posted on 2011-05-21 at 21:19:16.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time
Subject: fire
The world of rotting wood and marshy waters was peeled away as Joseph stepped through the portal that had formed in front of him. Painted over the delipadated jungle was the warm world of an inn, cleared out to host the spell. Why must men always meet indoors, caged in by the walls and roofs of their pathetic structures? Joseph thought as he tore through Belia and into the new environment.
The few moments his deep brown eyes had to cast themselves over the environment showed him that he alone had not been called. Something hard and painful caught in his throat as his mind flashed back to the image of bodies beaten, broken and mangled, faces once known and loved then ripped and torn into unrecognition. Joseph would not falter within again and find frienship in others, he and Tristessa were companions alone, he would cure the world of its dark disease with these others and then forget them.
Joseph had no time to rest in this new decision however as the portals which had brought him through to the bar shredded themselves apart flinging the force of wild energy across the room. Joseph dug his feet firmly into the ground, planting the staff into the floorboards for support and burrowing his hands ito Tristessa’s scruff. The body of the wizard who had brought together this party was whipped across the space and smashed into the floor across the room as flames bit down upon the ceiling.
One of those who had been drawn from his own world also fell to wood lifeless. Drawn from his own simple life, whatever it was, the destiny the wizard had spoken of was nothing more than death for this man. Would it be the same for Joseph? When he roamed the wild he was safe, there was so much security in the remote realms of roots and rock.
What was there here for him? This was a world of war, it was no place for a druid, a nomad who fought simply to protect himself. He was no crusader and did not seek to take the life of any. He had once prescribed to a group who had sought to kill for the greater good, had he not learned a better way since then? There was no good and evil, only life and death in the wild. Who was he to stop a predator from the prowl, the death of the prey was the life of another and the cycle of the world was beyond his own discretion.
"And who let that Spirit-Dammned wolf in here anyway?" The heavily accented words of an elf dressed for combat broke Joseph’s daze and brought him back to the angry immediate circumstances of a blazing fire and an enclosed space. Men always sought to close themselves into rooms and buildings. If they had met in a plain or a forest such a crisis would have been averted. Now, perhaps he too would meet the same fate of the smashed body broken on the ground. No. Then he would not achieve his goal and Joseph could feel that it awaited him sometime in the future, he would survive this too… he had to.
“I did.” Joseph responded, moving past the man, largely unconcerned with the pointless question, the chaos of the circumstance was more important than ignorant questions. An elf should know the ways of wildmen, if they did not they had forsaken the roots of their race.
But as he let out the two words another called one responded as well, “Not to be rude, but I think, perhaps now is not the best time for introductions,” At least someone else had the prudence to perceive the proper priority of actions. The same man seemed to be prepared for such dire situations better than the elf, pulling out a magically sustained fire from his cloak, deeming the actions of the elf’s lamp-lighting useless.
Joseph’s first inclination was to save the body of the wizard in case any clues were yielded but the other man was already doing so. Glancing around quickly, Joseph noted that with both warhorse and wolf the most effective exit would be the front door. That said, the only hint to the reason of their call was its location and its caller. The caller, being dead, was already being scoured for evidence. What was more important survival or understanding their purpose? The hall that lead north probably offered no exit but only evidence. Was it worth it?
Joseph glanced around the room seeking out some indication of direction, what he should do? His eyes fell on the huge, beautiful beast that stood astride the plate armoured man. This horse was a gorgeous creature and Joseph could see an intelligence in its eyes that was not found in the average steed. Without the doors opened, the animal would find its flesh burned into ash. Damn all of Nomachron, if I can save the life of one beast before I die, I have had purpose. Joseph’s thoughts raced as his feet propelled him to the door, running towards it and tossing the piled furniture out of the way.
The man who seemed calm and collected in the chaotic situation joined him at the blockage and began assisting him, announcing to the rest “Perhaps, we should get to work clearing a path out of here.” The druid silently worked aside the man, working together with him to lift any of the heavier objects and disregarding those behind him, if they helped he would be grateful, if not, he would save Tristessa and the horse.
“As soon as we get this clear someone better look outside before we leave that way. After all we wouldn’t want to go from the fire into the frying pan. Hey, does someone want to take a quick look down the hall way for another exit?” The words came from Joseph’s side and he saw that it was an intelligent idea.
Perhaps the elf or the woman, both seemed smaller than the rest, should tear the shutters from the windows and climb through, they may even be able to assist from the outside. Joseph sweated as he worked in the heat to clear their path, he had no breath for words as he exerted himself furiously to save the lives of the creatures in the inn.
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-21 at 19:11:17.
Edited on 2011-05-21 at 19:15:05 by Dragonblood
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: Cool
Okay sounds good, just wanted to make sure. So he is just wondering whether the wolf is with the group or against I can assume?
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-21 at 17:32:55.
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Topic: Iron Age QA
Subject: Yep
Sounds good Shades, unless of course we want to split up? Which of course doesn't make sense but in the logic of the characters who believe they are simply seeking out a small infestation, it might.
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-21 at 17:30:32.
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Topic: Happy B-Day Tek!
Subject: Happiest of Birthdays
Happy Birthday Tek, and (if you're still living in Canada?) enjoy the long weekend!
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-21 at 17:29:27.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: Cheers
Thanks for the clarifications Kaelyn. I'm going camping tonight but I will be back tomorrow, whether I'll be able to post then or not I'm more unsure of but I will work to put up a post before the weekend's up (Long Weekend that is for the rest of you Canadians out there).
One more question, is it clear that Tristessa was the cause of the collapse of the portals and the death of the wizard and eighth party member or was it just Savan's reaction to the wolf regardless of the situation?
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-20 at 20:51:20.
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Topic: Iron Age, Beginning of an Era.
Subject: So it begins
The storm had finally gave way to a glaring sun and a heavy air that seemed to glide by with a sticky tongue, concerned more with soaking men in sweat than cooling them off in the breath of a breeze. The wet air seemed to grip tightly to whatever clothes one wore and press them clingingly into skin. Though the heat hugged Joseph intimately luring sweat out beneath the leather armor and cloak overtop, the druid had been used to days of walking under a vicious sun and met it calmly and indifferently.
Joseph approached the warehouse that had fallen into the hands of the Wolf Pack, his eyes sweeping over the dilapidation with apprehension. Joseph never felt comfortable in buildings, he always felt the walls and ceilings longed to squeeze the life out of him. It was no vote of confidence for the man-made structure looked as though it actually was waiting to collapse, either on top of him or not. The man took a deep breath. Though he was a man of the wild, he had greater hopes in life than wondering aimlessly. If he was to achieve his goals, he would have to learn to tolerate the claustrophobia of four walls around him.
Stepping through the ill-made door, Joseph gazed around at the wreckage that was to be a meeting place. The wood was gnawed out by the teeth of time, much had been swallowed by the water the sky had poured out the past few days. The work of man was so mediocre thought Joseph. Ladnar however, seemed pleased by the shoddy craftsmanship that caged them in now and was eager to send them to the first task. Infestation. No doubt there were more than just onee species of parasite living off this abandoned building. Joseph smiled, nature had found a way of crawling up through the floorboards. Man thought he was so safe in his cities, blocking out the wild world, but it would always find a way to burrow in and take control.
Gazing around at his companions and their varied displeased and unsure expressions, Joseph wondered how they would eliminate this ‘infestation’. His method would be to let nature take its course, they could just as easily meet in a clearing in the forest at their doorstep. The most advisable route would be to find out what plagued the house and determine, based on that, what the most effective solution would be. Poison, probably, thought Joseph.
Though he felt the chains of anxiety around his stomach, Joseph steeled himself against the taunts and advances of the walls, which seemed to want to squeeze him down into oblivion. The outdoorsman stepped inside the room that Ladnar had directed them towards and gave it a preliminary scan. The predator nature had began chewing the guts out from it and looking to the floor Joseph reminded himself not to trust a single step.
"So here's the deal, you fine folks are going to take care of our pest problem while I try to find a carpenter who will work cheaply. Remember, anything of value or use needs to be salvaged so we can either use it or sell it for funds." Came the eager call of their leader from through the door. Joseph turned back and looked at the man curiously wondering how mad the man had gone.
As Joseph eyed the room slowly, his gaze passing from the pools of water to rotten wood, the group discussed how to light their mission of extermination. Joseph was not very concerned, Richard Denim, the eager young wrangler was off to fetch a lamp. Joseph smiled, “I’m sure my staff may serve as a light.” Joseph waved his hands over the head of the staff, whispering quietly and transforming the simple wood into a bright illuminating force.
Certainly it would not take more than one man to find out what vermin had taken up residence in the abode. In fact, now that Joseph thought of it, it seemed odd that Ladnar himself hadn’t investigated that. A man may easily pick his way through rotten wood to find the source of decay and hire or buy the appropriate remedy.
Joseph’s thought leapt to the mad gleam in the ranger’s eyes more suspiciously this time. Could it be that ‘The Wolf’ knew precisely what darkness lurked within the building and was releasing the party into it as a sort of first test or team-building exercise? Or Ladnar himself is the exterminator and we are the vermin, Joseph thought. But the ranger had earned Joseph’s trust, enough to lure him into an adventuring party, it was not possible that he had misjudged the leader of the Wolf Pack… was it?
Whatever the reason, he was now trapped inside this building with three strangers and the only obvious solution he knew was to complete the task slowly, carefully and logically. Resting his staff against the wall Joseph turned to his companions. “I will begin clearing out this rotting wood from the building. It is useless to us. If the vermin do eat wood they are most likely termites or carpenter ants.” But perhaps they were something larger, stranger, Joseph thought to himself as he began inching his way towards the closest pile of garbage, being sure not to break the wood beneath his feet.
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-19 at 23:52:19.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time Q/A
Subject: great!
Great update Kaelyn, I'm sure we all know those nights of posting that stretch out longer than we imagine and I know I always feel I drop off near the end but fear not if your writing did falter, I certainly didn't notice!
Now, questions. Where is most of the fire, the ceiling? Is it crumbling? If Joseph were to make a guess at how long he had in there before he had to get out what would the answer be? How high are the windows off the ground? I think that's it... will post more if I think of it... I don't get internet everyday but I'll try to get on Friday, Saturday and Sunday and hopefully put up a post at some point in there!
-Dragonblood
Posted on 2011-05-19 at 23:51:25.
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Topic: Nomachron: Tides of Time
Subject: let's rock
The blackened bones of trees crawled out of the swamp. Brittle bark, dark and dry weaved up and out of the shallow waters and wet grass. Transient, almost incorporeal in nature, the trees seemed closer to shades and smoke than living plants, strong and old. Many of these skeletal soldiers had fallen under the blows of time and now, the bed their roots once rested in, were their graves. Limbs wet and cracked, crawled out of the mud like frozen serpents, the logs laying out a pathway for swift feet to fly over.
Sturdy leather boots leapt from hump to point guiding a figure, with wolf behind him, through the marsh. The silhouettes shrouded in shadow were the only patrons of the dismal remains of what had once been fertile, sucked and squelched in rotting wood and flooded rivers. These lush lands now gripped by decay had been woven into words by the wondrous poets, once upon a time. In search of such beauty, the hooded man had led his road to come across this particular place. He had sought the same splendour that once reigned in the heart of his hero.
Rico Lorca Garcia Fede had once lain in the arms of these trees like a man might with a woman, shutting out the darkness of the world around and living only for the scents of the flowers and the songs of the birds. The sun and rain had fed and nurtured the land then nursing out much fruit from the limbs of the trees, and so had the forest in return nurtured poems from Fede.
Now, the cloaked figure had followed Fede in reverence to his place of fruitfulness, to find that the gnarled claws of death that raked the back of Nomachron, had finally found Belia, a jungle once rich with warmth and pleasure. The night that had stolen light from the rested of the lands, had finally snuffed out a final spark that had flickered in the heart of a man.
Movement froze and the cloth that had swished around with walking was drawn up by the wind and whipped around in the moonlight, ghostly beneath the lich-like face that looked down upon a deadened land and gave it the illusion of light. The silver gaze that now caught the man placed him in a haunted, new image that reflected the brokenness of his heart. The wild-faced wolf that stood next to him rested down upon its haunches nuzzling its mangy face into the hides that hid beneath the cloak after sending up a solitary howl that seemed to shiver over the water and wake ghosts from the depths.
The picture was one of sorrow and strength woven together inextricably. Rising from the floor of soggy moss and grasping branches were finely made leather boots that had coated themselves in dirt and mud, caked with cuts and scuffs, they had wandered over a world of beauty and madness and met the stone and grass, streams and dirt, sand and wood of the wild every day. The soles of these feet had battled and loved the land intimately over many years.
The boots housed, with gnarled feet, the tatters of trousers worn days on end, beaten by the wind and the rock. Wrapped around the pants were leggings cut from the thick hide of animals and cured so the skin was tough and malleable. Formed around his calves, rising up over his thighs, patches of fur bursting out angrily, and ending in a leather belt that wound around the thin waist. Hanging from the hip was a long slightly curved leather sheath that hugged tightly a hunting knife.
Beneath the cloak, which was drawn open, as curtains, to reveal a well made suit of armour drawn from the hides of dead beasts. The slabs of skin and fur that wove around a svelte and strong form were fitted in a way that had a wild grandeur to it. Strapped across his back was a bow, masterfully made. The supple wood had been picked, carved and finished by an adept craftsman and it sat snuggly opposite of a quiver that boasted many feathers peering out, attached to arrows.
Growing from the waters, along with the two legs, was a staff, once a trunk, which had faced an expert carving. The tall marriage of walking stick and cudgel served both purposes perfectly. Maneuvering the marsh had been aided superbly by the wooden companion, who had borne his weight many a time and assisted in particularly nasty or awkward impasses. The staff rounded out into a firm and hard top that might cruelly teach one the meaning of the word ‘weapon’.
From the base images had been artfully crafted to wind around the wood. The first image was a house. Bursting from the house were flames that wove around the staff into dust billowing from behind a wagon. The letters RLGF were boldly framed by the wagon on one side and footprints looping around the wood on the other. The footprints stopped dead in the face of an image of antlers and at the side of the buck’s crown was the head of a wolf, framed by a moon and cast in the image of a constant, quiet howl. This moon, silently serenaded, watched instead the headstone placed at its side.
Kneeling beside his companion the man drew the staff into his lap and ran long, slender yet rough fingers over the wood that bore the symbols. Growing from the stone block that marked death was supposed to be life. This hell around him was supposed to be a haven to whisper warmly away the pain of loss. From the behind the burial stone, was supposed to be a jungle, some fecund sanctuary that would wrap the man in meaning once more. Give him purpose again.
A dark, tanned hand, dressed in scars and callous pulled back the hood to show a face younger than the pain cast in it. Long dark curls fell free from the cage of cloth they had been wrapped in. Thick and wild the mane surrounded a slim but stern face, half-hidden behind the mask of a tight-curled, black beard that had grown mangy and dense. A nose, just crooked enough to notice, rose and bent slightly out from his firm face. Thin red lips were wrapped in the wreath of hair, concealed almost entirely. A scar weaved meanly down from one of the high cheek bones and down into the forest of fur around his jaw. Age and wisdom was swirled into the brown depths that plummeted endlessly around the black pupils of his eyes, nearly swallowing even these up. There were no tears to clean away the wound cut into his soul but some weary melancholy had bored into the oaken eyes.
“Where does this road take me now?” Joseph whispered to the wolf who rested her head upon him. “Once I thought I journeyed and now I see these years of walking are but wandering. Aimless paths cut from the wild without meaning.” His deep voice forgot any trappings of youth and seemed weary with years of experience. Burying a brown hand in the black fur Joseph exhaled slowly, the sigh sooaked in sorrow, drawing a dagger of melancholy deeper through his heart.
The stillness of the swamp seemed to mock his dead end. Surrounded by slime and the black corpses of trees, Joeph David Gabriel Feroz was, for the first time in his life, lost. Gazing about him he saw that he had no direction and knew not the path of any road but the one that had lead him into this depth of despair. He had ben following this scattered road of logs and moss through a swamp with little food and less sleep for over a day now. The choice he faced was ugly. Joseph did not turn back, he was a nomad who wandered only forward, always seeking a new stretch of land at the base of the sky to hold the sun as it fell from the war of the day. Joseph did not how deep this swamp sunk though and perhaps if he walked forward he would find himself cloaked in muck, arms spraying out from the water, face twisted in anguish a body lifeless with the limbs that had fallen around him, until he was buried in the wet and webbed in failure.
Just as he now faced this decision with dark countenance the dead swamp, which boasted Joseph and Tristessa only as its living guests, gave up a crackle and a spark. Joseph’s eyes shot up quickly, hands wrapping around the staff. From the lifeless bog burst out a shower of energy shredding the sky before him into a portal.
“Joseph David Gabriel Feroz, your life as you have known it changes this night. Nomachron is in great peril, and you are all that stands at the brink of her destruction, capable of bringing her salvation. I implore thee, for whatever reasons may guide your step, enter now the portal before you, accept your part in the world’s destiny, and carve out your own.”
The words rang in Joseph’s head, his hands shook and his breath shuddered. At the edge of the world, when life hung like a thread begging for meaning, the map had buried itself into a shroud of darkness and now the embers, thought blackened rose and flared again. Joseph could feel his heart huffing, snorting like bull within his chest, chasing the portal like a matador.
Two nights before and such a wild request from the outside would have been ignored, even begrudged. Joseph had tried to save the world, or ameliorate some small corner, at the very least, once and had earned instead five dead friends, the only friends he had ever had. If Joseph had met this portal before meeting the death of Belia, he would have shook his head, he would have forgotten the needy demand and satisfied his own desires. Now, he saw it with different eyes. He knew first hand the destruction that diseased Nomachron now, it had torn the once tiny hope resting in his heart from him. Perhaps this was a chance, not for revenge, but to save the small shards of beauty that did remain in the land from being shattered. And it was now that Joseph’s breath quickened.
This may be the chance to realize his greatest goal. It seemed fitting that he, a mere man (for now), had been called upon to aid the land. Gods who were, apparently, powerful enough to send the titans to their doom could not pick it up and nurse it back to health. The titans could tear a coast from its roots at the very core of the earth and remake it better than it had been. Had the Gods forgotten their power when they understood mercy or were they so weakened from the war that they could not cure the world. So Joseph instead would rise to meet the need and perhaps rise further to meet a higher destiny.
Joseph turned to Tristessa who gazed back at him. The trust that was written in her eyes gave courage to the druid. He stood, his sleight frame rising tall. Now his fate would be decided, the greatness that burned within him would be realized. One hand upon his storied staff and the other resting on Tristessa’s neck, Joseph entered the portal and, at the same time, his destiny.
Posted on 2011-05-15 at 19:28:12.
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