Storyteller's foreword
Henceforth and from this day onward I will post a short summary of the events taking place. The theme is oriented towards an investigation scenario with a bit of epic adventure in the mix. All are welcome to chip in "In character," when and if their character wants or see's an opportunity to do so. I also hope at some point to get a DM to throw in a badge of encounters but there is still some way to go before we even need that.
I hope you will enjoy the story of the Lost Sword.
Namariel Songwright.
Story/Campaign: The Lost sword
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Namariel
- Posts: 7
- Joined: Sun Sep 05, 2010 3:59 pm
- Location: Denmark
Story/Campaign: The Lost sword
Last edited by Namariel on Mon Sep 06, 2010 12:00 pm, edited 3 times in total.
"Even in your deepest despair little moth, you cling to the light and seek it out - and that is a comfort in the ever growing darkness between the stars.."
-
Namariel
- Posts: 7
- Joined: Sun Sep 05, 2010 3:59 pm
- Location: Denmark
Re: Story/Campaign: The Lost sword
The Lost Sword
long gone are the heroes of the old days.
This is the present. This is now.
A storm is brewing and darkness is awaiting.
http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/s/End+T ... Music/Mood
Prologue: The Murder of the Seer, part one
I always found myself drawn to humans through the tales derived from the books of the great library in Evermeet. Many a time I would sit reading intently after nightfall, while the rain fell on the petals of our beloved oaks. My mind would conjure images and childhood fantasies of knights riding horses, farm houses with smoking chimneys and not to forget, the strange creatures defined as cows or indeed the very nature of pigs; left me both pussled and hungry for more knowledge concerning humans and their quirky culture.
My questions were many and I must have asked them countless of times to my teacher, mentor and uncle. Maldavion Starbright. "How come they sleep? How old can a human get? Why do humans die of old age? Do they see in the dark like we do, when the hour of the Wolf draws near?" And so on and so forth.
It was a child's fascination with the unknown and it was a period of wonder and awe. An age that every living being in the world must walk through to learn and experience, to grow and understand. Indeed, to look through the eyes of a child one more time, to perceive the unbiased objectivity, the very essence of life and hence the simplicity of it all, must be a blessing from the Gods and the highest of gifts they could ever bestow. In that regard I have come to realise over the years of study and in my journeys, that we all are much alike in the end.
In many ways, I wish I could go back and experience it all again. And yet my heart knows it to be folly to even think such naive thoughts. My feet have carried me elsewhere and my mind now knows the patterns of magic both beautiful and helpful, harmful and foreboding; How could I ever become that child I once was, with the knowledge I now hold in my spirit and gathered beliefs.
No, I must remain Arry to these humans until my strength has recovered. And perhaps Arry the girl can accomplish what Namariel cannot. All I can do is hope for a better tomorrow. And trust that the childhood memories in my companions still echoes with the simplicity of life itself.
Echoes with the unmistakeable fragrance of a mother's warm embrace....
Namariel Songwright, The Elfsong Tavern
long gone are the heroes of the old days.
This is the present. This is now.
A storm is brewing and darkness is awaiting.
http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/s/End+T ... Music/Mood
Prologue: The Murder of the Seer, part one
I always found myself drawn to humans through the tales derived from the books of the great library in Evermeet. Many a time I would sit reading intently after nightfall, while the rain fell on the petals of our beloved oaks. My mind would conjure images and childhood fantasies of knights riding horses, farm houses with smoking chimneys and not to forget, the strange creatures defined as cows or indeed the very nature of pigs; left me both pussled and hungry for more knowledge concerning humans and their quirky culture.
My questions were many and I must have asked them countless of times to my teacher, mentor and uncle. Maldavion Starbright. "How come they sleep? How old can a human get? Why do humans die of old age? Do they see in the dark like we do, when the hour of the Wolf draws near?" And so on and so forth.
It was a child's fascination with the unknown and it was a period of wonder and awe. An age that every living being in the world must walk through to learn and experience, to grow and understand. Indeed, to look through the eyes of a child one more time, to perceive the unbiased objectivity, the very essence of life and hence the simplicity of it all, must be a blessing from the Gods and the highest of gifts they could ever bestow. In that regard I have come to realise over the years of study and in my journeys, that we all are much alike in the end.
In many ways, I wish I could go back and experience it all again. And yet my heart knows it to be folly to even think such naive thoughts. My feet have carried me elsewhere and my mind now knows the patterns of magic both beautiful and helpful, harmful and foreboding; How could I ever become that child I once was, with the knowledge I now hold in my spirit and gathered beliefs.
No, I must remain Arry to these humans until my strength has recovered. And perhaps Arry the girl can accomplish what Namariel cannot. All I can do is hope for a better tomorrow. And trust that the childhood memories in my companions still echoes with the simplicity of life itself.
Echoes with the unmistakeable fragrance of a mother's warm embrace....
Namariel Songwright, The Elfsong Tavern
"Even in your deepest despair little moth, you cling to the light and seek it out - and that is a comfort in the ever growing darkness between the stars.."
-
Namariel
- Posts: 7
- Joined: Sun Sep 05, 2010 3:59 pm
- Location: Denmark
Re: Story/Campaign: The Lost sword
Prologue: The Murder of the Seer, part two
I remember nothing of the ensuing moments after opening my uncle's door. I only felt pain overtake me as cold shards of sadness and grief tore open my heart and left it hollow and stained within the very foundation of my soul. I remember praying to Ilmater for reason and strength as my sobs echoed down the hallway of the Inn. Then I ran.
I ran from the carnage that once was my uncle; now a mutilated and wretched form of flesh. I ran from the vivid images of blood covered walls, red soaked bed sheets and the very stench of warm entrails.
I ran for my life...
Through grey buildings and less caring people to the savage wilderness outside Beregost, I searched for those who had been compassionate in aiding me to my Uncle's abode; Salien, Charraj and Basher.
Salien: Whose self centered demeanor cared nothing about anyone or anything. Yet the truth mirrored in his dark eyes showed otherwise in the late watches of the night; revenge often has too high a price.
Charraj: A compassionate leader with a strong sense of purpose and intellect. An intellect that only comes from experiencing the malice and animosity of the races of the old world and surviving it.
Basher: A man which dull witted disposition and simple method of living through strength left many clueless to his true insight of the world; Take or be taken...
I prayed within myself to Ilmater to find these brave men as my hurried breath and my fatiqued body propelled myself ever onward across the uneven ground. Hope was nothing more than a flicker within my broken heart.
And with each stumbling step it slowly grew dim as nightfall approached with tendrils of dark intentions; like a torch spending the final moments of its life, sputtering and clinging to its existence - afraid to fall into the encompassing darkness. Knowing that in mere moments its very nature would be forfeit. I too flung myself towards one goal with a final effort of strength born from sheer terror.
One goal above all else. To find sanctuary...
I remember nothing of the ensuing moments after opening my uncle's door. I only felt pain overtake me as cold shards of sadness and grief tore open my heart and left it hollow and stained within the very foundation of my soul. I remember praying to Ilmater for reason and strength as my sobs echoed down the hallway of the Inn. Then I ran.
I ran from the carnage that once was my uncle; now a mutilated and wretched form of flesh. I ran from the vivid images of blood covered walls, red soaked bed sheets and the very stench of warm entrails.
I ran for my life...
Through grey buildings and less caring people to the savage wilderness outside Beregost, I searched for those who had been compassionate in aiding me to my Uncle's abode; Salien, Charraj and Basher.
Salien: Whose self centered demeanor cared nothing about anyone or anything. Yet the truth mirrored in his dark eyes showed otherwise in the late watches of the night; revenge often has too high a price.
Charraj: A compassionate leader with a strong sense of purpose and intellect. An intellect that only comes from experiencing the malice and animosity of the races of the old world and surviving it.
Basher: A man which dull witted disposition and simple method of living through strength left many clueless to his true insight of the world; Take or be taken...
I prayed within myself to Ilmater to find these brave men as my hurried breath and my fatiqued body propelled myself ever onward across the uneven ground. Hope was nothing more than a flicker within my broken heart.
And with each stumbling step it slowly grew dim as nightfall approached with tendrils of dark intentions; like a torch spending the final moments of its life, sputtering and clinging to its existence - afraid to fall into the encompassing darkness. Knowing that in mere moments its very nature would be forfeit. I too flung myself towards one goal with a final effort of strength born from sheer terror.
One goal above all else. To find sanctuary...
Last edited by Namariel on Mon Sep 06, 2010 12:52 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"Even in your deepest despair little moth, you cling to the light and seek it out - and that is a comfort in the ever growing darkness between the stars.."
-
Namariel
- Posts: 7
- Joined: Sun Sep 05, 2010 3:59 pm
- Location: Denmark
Re: Story/Campaign: The Lost sword
Prologue: The Murder of the Seer, part three
I had found them...
And through them. Safety. It was a peculiar feeling watching them set to work like a well oiled machine of experience. Basher feared nothing. Or at least that is how he reacted when confronted with whatever savage forces lurking in the wilderness around Beregost. The method was simple enough. It seldom took more than one hit from his massive weapon of steel before the foe went down in a massive spray of blood and gore.
On the other hand Salien was more the cautious type. Not much for engaging in close melee. But his strange arcane bolts of magic sure did it's handy work nonetheless. engulfing the attackers with hungry energy which in return left them staring up at the nightsky with a horrified expression of terror frozen on their faces.
And then there was Charraj. Not as strong as Basher and neither an arcanist of unknown origins. He simply dealt each foe swift measured and disciplined strikes. As if he was calculating each skirmish like a chess player thoughtful of his next five moves. They listened to his words. As did I. In some strange way I knew I could trust him with my life.
We returned to Beregost. Finding nothing but a clean room as if my Uncle never had received such an ill fated death. But nothing was as it seemed to be. The assailant had apparently not finished his evil deed completely and set upon Basher with words of malice. His intention was clear enough. Both of us was about to die.
Luckily, at that very moment as the air seemed to grow cold around us Charraj and Salien entered with brandished steel and the assailant retreated back into shadow and ash. I wonder if Basher would have used the same simple method against this unknown foe? Somehow I marvel at his strength against such odds. To stand unwavering against such darkness is no small feat, indeed.
Nonetheless, Charraj took charge and began an investigation. No detail was overlooked as his sharp wit set to work uncovering this newest of plots. I could almost see his mind set to work like a fine tuned clock of time, if they ever existed. I guess the gnomes havent made this invention of theirs workable yet?
Salien kept watch. And in someways ensuring my safety. He oddly enough never left my side? For one such as him. So cold. So distanced from the world. He was there for me from the very beginning. and for that I owe him my deepest of gratitudes. I guess not all are so lucky as to call Salien a friend..?
I had found them...
And through them. Safety. It was a peculiar feeling watching them set to work like a well oiled machine of experience. Basher feared nothing. Or at least that is how he reacted when confronted with whatever savage forces lurking in the wilderness around Beregost. The method was simple enough. It seldom took more than one hit from his massive weapon of steel before the foe went down in a massive spray of blood and gore.
On the other hand Salien was more the cautious type. Not much for engaging in close melee. But his strange arcane bolts of magic sure did it's handy work nonetheless. engulfing the attackers with hungry energy which in return left them staring up at the nightsky with a horrified expression of terror frozen on their faces.
And then there was Charraj. Not as strong as Basher and neither an arcanist of unknown origins. He simply dealt each foe swift measured and disciplined strikes. As if he was calculating each skirmish like a chess player thoughtful of his next five moves. They listened to his words. As did I. In some strange way I knew I could trust him with my life.
We returned to Beregost. Finding nothing but a clean room as if my Uncle never had received such an ill fated death. But nothing was as it seemed to be. The assailant had apparently not finished his evil deed completely and set upon Basher with words of malice. His intention was clear enough. Both of us was about to die.
Luckily, at that very moment as the air seemed to grow cold around us Charraj and Salien entered with brandished steel and the assailant retreated back into shadow and ash. I wonder if Basher would have used the same simple method against this unknown foe? Somehow I marvel at his strength against such odds. To stand unwavering against such darkness is no small feat, indeed.
Nonetheless, Charraj took charge and began an investigation. No detail was overlooked as his sharp wit set to work uncovering this newest of plots. I could almost see his mind set to work like a fine tuned clock of time, if they ever existed. I guess the gnomes havent made this invention of theirs workable yet?
Salien kept watch. And in someways ensuring my safety. He oddly enough never left my side? For one such as him. So cold. So distanced from the world. He was there for me from the very beginning. and for that I owe him my deepest of gratitudes. I guess not all are so lucky as to call Salien a friend..?
Last edited by Namariel on Mon Sep 06, 2010 12:52 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Even in your deepest despair little moth, you cling to the light and seek it out - and that is a comfort in the ever growing darkness between the stars.."
-
Namariel
- Posts: 7
- Joined: Sun Sep 05, 2010 3:59 pm
- Location: Denmark
Re: Story/Campaign: The Lost sword
Prologue: The Murder of the Seer, part four
The travel from Beregost had been a strained one. It was like the wilderness had awakened around us, fulfilling it's passionate desires to quench the life from our very throats. And then savagely pummel us into submission.
Our plan was simple. We had to reach Candlekeep. As to why it had to be Candlekeep was another question entirely. But Charraj remained vigilant. the less we knew the more safe we were. Somehow I got this foreboding feeling in my stomach. But Charraj had lead us this far and I trusted in his judgement.
For every step we put behind us a growing concern grew on the faces of us all. Something was out there watching in the shadows of the trees, branches and undergrowth.
As if out of a dream we were attacked. The blurry movements of goblins, the clash of steel and the trails of magic following behind bolts of eldritch arcana soared through the sky.
Then Charraj fell, lying in his own pool of blood, his pale ashen face speaking his last words with his final breath. "Leave me... Take her to Candlekeep... Sal... Salien..." Then he died, the last embers of life leaving him; an empty husk of flesh on a barren road in the middle of nowhere.
But how could we leave him? Had he not put his life at risk by helping me? by aiding Salien? It did not take long moments of consideration before Salien hoisted him up on his shoulders. The strain clearly showing on his face. Together we continued down the road. the wilderness looming ahead and above us, threacherous and deceiving.
If only Basher had been here. Yet the man was nowhere in sight...
The travel from Beregost had been a strained one. It was like the wilderness had awakened around us, fulfilling it's passionate desires to quench the life from our very throats. And then savagely pummel us into submission.
Our plan was simple. We had to reach Candlekeep. As to why it had to be Candlekeep was another question entirely. But Charraj remained vigilant. the less we knew the more safe we were. Somehow I got this foreboding feeling in my stomach. But Charraj had lead us this far and I trusted in his judgement.
For every step we put behind us a growing concern grew on the faces of us all. Something was out there watching in the shadows of the trees, branches and undergrowth.
As if out of a dream we were attacked. The blurry movements of goblins, the clash of steel and the trails of magic following behind bolts of eldritch arcana soared through the sky.
Then Charraj fell, lying in his own pool of blood, his pale ashen face speaking his last words with his final breath. "Leave me... Take her to Candlekeep... Sal... Salien..." Then he died, the last embers of life leaving him; an empty husk of flesh on a barren road in the middle of nowhere.
But how could we leave him? Had he not put his life at risk by helping me? by aiding Salien? It did not take long moments of consideration before Salien hoisted him up on his shoulders. The strain clearly showing on his face. Together we continued down the road. the wilderness looming ahead and above us, threacherous and deceiving.
If only Basher had been here. Yet the man was nowhere in sight...
Last edited by Namariel on Mon Sep 06, 2010 1:04 pm, edited 3 times in total.
"Even in your deepest despair little moth, you cling to the light and seek it out - and that is a comfort in the ever growing darkness between the stars.."
-
Namariel
- Posts: 7
- Joined: Sun Sep 05, 2010 3:59 pm
- Location: Denmark
Re: Story/Campaign: The Lost sword
Prologue: The Murder of the Seer, part five
She had come as if Lady Luck had sent her on golden wings. There on the road she stood. A warrior and our saviour. Salien's strength was almost spend carrying Charraj and he looked fatiqued at best.
She seemed out of this world. Her laughter sending hope into my heart with every mirthful word she pronounced. Her eyes was like beacons of light and compassion. And I understood; Hope had been rekindled.
I hated lying to her. But Charraj had said it was imperative that we remained secret about our true identities. Taking on the role of Charraj's lover was fine but when he had died it just felt wrong not to trust this woman, who so readily had given her aid.
The truth is I guess, she seemed nice. Carrying a smile even in the thick of danger. I longed to tell her the truth about our true desire to travel to Candlekeep and what we had left behind. But I had given my word to Charraj; we could trust no one.
She carried Charraj now. And Salien had disappeared up the road. Vanishing into the gathering fog around us. From time to time he would head back to check up on us, only to depart moments later. I guess he liked the solitude, out there under the night sky.
Hours on end we travelled and as dawn approached we watched as the road turned upwards and there residing on a cliff off the Sword Coast lay the safe walls of Candlekeep.
We had made it...
She had come as if Lady Luck had sent her on golden wings. There on the road she stood. A warrior and our saviour. Salien's strength was almost spend carrying Charraj and he looked fatiqued at best.
She seemed out of this world. Her laughter sending hope into my heart with every mirthful word she pronounced. Her eyes was like beacons of light and compassion. And I understood; Hope had been rekindled.
I hated lying to her. But Charraj had said it was imperative that we remained secret about our true identities. Taking on the role of Charraj's lover was fine but when he had died it just felt wrong not to trust this woman, who so readily had given her aid.
The truth is I guess, she seemed nice. Carrying a smile even in the thick of danger. I longed to tell her the truth about our true desire to travel to Candlekeep and what we had left behind. But I had given my word to Charraj; we could trust no one.
She carried Charraj now. And Salien had disappeared up the road. Vanishing into the gathering fog around us. From time to time he would head back to check up on us, only to depart moments later. I guess he liked the solitude, out there under the night sky.
Hours on end we travelled and as dawn approached we watched as the road turned upwards and there residing on a cliff off the Sword Coast lay the safe walls of Candlekeep.
We had made it...
"Even in your deepest despair little moth, you cling to the light and seek it out - and that is a comfort in the ever growing darkness between the stars.."
-
Namariel
- Posts: 7
- Joined: Sun Sep 05, 2010 3:59 pm
- Location: Denmark
Re: Story/Campaign: The Lost sword
So here I am. Sitting with my bare feet twiddling in the warm water. While listening to the maiden of the Inn speak of another bandit attack upon the road. I feel my skin smoothen beneath the ripples of the water and my thoughts overtake me as she excitedly speaks about the latest gossip of the Sword Coast; for the tenth time.
She eyes me like a mother would have for a moment while continuing her long rant of nothing in particular. Her words distant as I close my eyes for my much needed rest.
She is sweet. Yet, she is so young.
I take heed of this thought of mine; seldom do humans of any size or culture think themselves incapable of comprehension. Yet, they are like moths clinging to the light. Hoping for a better tomorrow.
So frail and ignorant, yet so strong and enduring.
I smile at this thought as I turn my head to the side. My head resting on a soft towel and the corner of the wooden bathtub.
How long have I been here in this keep of candles, scholars and books? It must have been weeks. The days have become a blur of reading, studying and understanding human thought. Understanding the culture of the Sword Coast and the political factions, unrest and tragic incidents in the past.
The library is sufficient to my needs of exploration. Yet small in comparison to the royal library in Evermeet. Nevertheless, behind these stone walls of lore I have found safety, empathy and friendship in the unlikeliest of companions.
When Charraj returns from his information gathering we will be ready to proceed.
I hope...
She eyes me like a mother would have for a moment while continuing her long rant of nothing in particular. Her words distant as I close my eyes for my much needed rest.
She is sweet. Yet, she is so young.
I take heed of this thought of mine; seldom do humans of any size or culture think themselves incapable of comprehension. Yet, they are like moths clinging to the light. Hoping for a better tomorrow.
So frail and ignorant, yet so strong and enduring.
I smile at this thought as I turn my head to the side. My head resting on a soft towel and the corner of the wooden bathtub.
How long have I been here in this keep of candles, scholars and books? It must have been weeks. The days have become a blur of reading, studying and understanding human thought. Understanding the culture of the Sword Coast and the political factions, unrest and tragic incidents in the past.
The library is sufficient to my needs of exploration. Yet small in comparison to the royal library in Evermeet. Nevertheless, behind these stone walls of lore I have found safety, empathy and friendship in the unlikeliest of companions.
When Charraj returns from his information gathering we will be ready to proceed.
I hope...
"Even in your deepest despair little moth, you cling to the light and seek it out - and that is a comfort in the ever growing darkness between the stars.."