The Legacy of Dannl’in Veratu
By Kalysto | June 22, 2013
[Long silver hair falls below his shoulder blades with many braids mostly towards the front of his head. In these braids are random totems like bird feathers or bones. Scattered randomly across his body are markings, some look like brands while others are symbols or seem to be a language but all are made from scars.
Personality is that of a cross between a hermit and a young curious animal. He is not unfriendly but does not trust very easily, though once loyalty is gained it will almost surely never be broken.]
Right of Passage
All stories begin with the loss of something...
"Are you sure we should let him go?" A shaken female voice is heard almost as a whisper through the rustle of leaves.
"Nothing will come of it, let him go." Another voice replies, this one unsure and that of a male.
A young boy's eyes open with a start, his vision blurry from unconsciousness. Standing in the room are people whose faces he cannot make out.
A few more blinks and things start to clear up, he can see he's in some sort of structure, then...dreams.
"Gather around, people of the tribe.." an elderly voice is heard. This one he feels is some sort of familiar to him. "Today we test our youth for their magical abilities."
"Go on you two, enter the circle and make your kin proud." The boy feels a push, to his right is his twin sister. "You ready, brother?" she asks him.
The young boy nods to her, but inside he feels something is wrong. He could feel in his memory something was going wrong, but in the dream he could not say anything or move.
"The test begins now." The elderly voice spoke again.
All around him the young members of his people were manipulating magic in all sorts of various ways. All except him.
"Wake up lad." One voice said "He looks so young" said another. He opened his eyes a moment, again seeing only blurry figures before drifting back to his dream.
"You know what must be done, Tal'ihara." The elder said to Dannl'in's mother.
Dannl'in was still in the proving circle, his sister embraced him with a tight hug, one that was filled with fear and sadness. "Run brother, run." she whispered into his ear.
Dannl'in took off into a sprint out of the proving circle and away from his family as fast as he could.
A sharp pain was felt in his left shoulder as his shirt continued to burn melting partially into his skin. He looked back as his mother hurled another flame at him. He had barely gotten out of reach as his father summoned a lightning bolt after him. The bolt missed but as the shock spread out through the earth Dannl'in was lifted off the ground by the energy and hurled into a boulder breaking his right arm.
He barely stood up in enough time to see everyone from his village yelling at his sister, forcing her to do their bidding or join him.
Standing there in the open field, leaning against a rock was Dannl'in, burn wound on his left shoulder, holding his right arm where it had broken against the boulder. He stared back at the people he once played with and sat on their knees as they told him stories of the ancient elves. His mother and father, who now try to kill him. All he had ever loved was staring right back at him, but with the intent to kill.
Dannl'in locked eyes with his twin sister as tears poured down her cheek. He knew what she was feeling and what she had to do. As he stood there, looking into his sisters eyes she lifted the bow that Dannl'in made for her and aimed at him. Her lips read the words "I'm sorry" but from them spewed a magic arrow that traveled the several hundred yards in only a second and pierced Dannl'in just below his heart.
His eye's were wide with both pain and shock that he was still alive, he gave one last look at his twin and spun around the boulder off into the wilderness.
"Are you sure we should let him go?" His mother’s voice is heard almost as a whisper through the rustle of leaves.
"Nothing will come of it, let him go." His father’s voice replies unsure of the truth in his words.
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Narrowhaven’s Royal Legion
By Torin_G | June 22, 2013
As he reached them, he took out one of the parchment and grinning read them over. Contently nodding he took out some nails and a hammer, and attached the parchment.
Any bypasser would read there:
"Hear ye, hear ye
By Royal Decree isseud by His Majesty Adair de Clair and with the benevolent support of the Lady Scarlet, Duchess of Narrowhaven we are proud to announce the foundation of the Royal Legion of Narrowhaven.
This Brotherhood of Defenders shall provide an answer to any threat that might endanger the Kingdom or its residents, be it armed, magical or otherwise.
We seek men and women willing to aid Narrowhaven in its darkest hour and to dedicate their life and effort to this worthy cause.
We need You!
Signed and sealed
Torin Gryphoneye, High Constable of Narrowhaven [a golden seal, Axe and Pickaxe crossed]
Miluda, Preatorian of the Royal Bodyguard [a black seal, picturing a spiderweb and a fist)
"
Taking out another scroll and his hammers, he walks towards the bank, whistling with content.
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Reclamation (Varstaad) – Part 1 & 2
By Aduah | June 21, 2013
((OOC NOTES: Im revealing some information that wasn't common knowledge [a bit about Lucius & Caierris' relationship] also some of the events don't quite fit time time line properly [like Lucius having disappeared almost a year ago, but I thought was necessary for the explanation of why Varstaad was in such a state.]))
------
"Her ye be, Old Varstad" The tiller-man said to her as they sailed up to be what was once a great city.
She raised a bag of coins, jingled it at the man, and tossed it his way as she stepped off the boat onto the dock.
"Hmmm, Old Varstad? So thats what they were calling it now?†she thought to herself. She looked around the city that still seemed to be in prime condition, it hadn't deteriorated at all since the Old King of Varstaad had vanished into thin air leaving the town to its own devices.
As as she walked about, what she noticed was the fact that the shop keepers had lost direction. With no one to buy their wares they had either left or turned to banditry, many had left because other had turned to banditry. There were windows and doors boarded up on many of the still elegant looking buildings. She shook her head. She couldn't believe what had become of the city.
It was with much dysphoria that Caierris drifted through the streets of Old Varstaad.
It was a bittersweet feeling, being in this town again now that Lucius Dhaalgard, the old king of Varstaad, was no longer there. The first time she had ever stepped foot into Varstaad she was led by a man that showed her no prejudice for having blue skin and red eyes. The first time she had been led into the city, hand in hand, she felt a fresh wind blow on her skin, a wind free of oppression, and racism; The gentle smile on his face and the pride in his eyes as he looked over his newly constructed city was contagious. For the first time she had felt not as a drow, a human, a harpy or wild animal; she had had felt like a woman. She had felt like she was wanted and she was needed. She had someone who had claimed he had loved her. As quickly as she had felt free, it was ripped away from her, like the most beautiful dream turned concave phantasm that only left her empty.
It was bittersweet indeed. Only after reentering Narrowhaven, alone, did she truly realize the despotic nature of this political system, it was cruel and repressive.
It had taken her nearly a year before she worked up the courage to step back into Varstaad.
Now that she was here, why did she come back? For ole time's sake? In hopes that maybe Lucius wasn't really gone? In hopes that the reality of it was just a nightmare?
It was not. It was real. She blinked her eyes closed, squeezing them tightly, still walking as if drifting on the wind. When she opened her eyes once again she had realized that her feet had made their own way to the base of the Palace. Step after wobbly step, her feet found purchase up the steps. Slowly she turned, shielding her eyes from the setting sun.
Before she knew it, the sun had completely set. There were hardly any lights left in the city, not even the castle was lit. She watched the moon drenched city and let out a despondent sigh. She closed her eyes once again, imagining the glory of what was once this beautiful city.
“Shhhhhhhhh..... eerrrrriiisssssssâ€
What sounded like a hushed whisper ripped her from her thoughts. Opening her eyes she snapped her head in the direction of the sound. “Lucius?...†she trailed off. How silly of her. He was gone.
Quite suddenly and in a flurry of events she could hardly recall, she had been knocked over the head and been rendered rightly unconscious. When she came to, she was laying in a place vaguely familiar. A place surrounded in skins & furs, with a warm fire glowing. She tried to sit up quickly but he head which was in acute and swimming pain stopped her.
“Slowly, Miss...†An allaying voice said to her. “You've taken quite a blow to the head.â€
Bleary eyed Caierris squinted , trying to focus her vision. “Where am I? What happened? Who are you?†questions pouring out of her mouth. If there was one thing Caierris hated the most it was being put into an unfamiliar situation by being taken by surprise.
The figure smiled. It was a beautiful half-elf girl. Her long hair glowing golden, as the fire shown brightly off of it.
Through her blurred vision, she could have swore she was seeing... “Lucius?†she tried to blink past the fog just behind her eyes.
The girl frowned and shook her head. “I'm afraid the King may never return.†she looked away towards several others who also were laying on make shift beds of furs and skins. “This is what we are reduced to.†The young half elf motioned around the room.
As the pain slowly abated, Caierris looked around the room with clearer eyes. She recognized the room now. It was one of the inner chambers in the castle. Tables and chairs had been pushed aside to make room for what looked like sick and injured.
“What happened to all these people?†Caierris asked genuinely concerned.
“Crime†the half elf replied. “There is no stopping it anymore. There is only one who continues to try to stand against it. Sir Kendrall... But he is only one man.†she motioned towards the door in which no one was standing.
Unsteadily Caierris stood. She was ashamed in Lucius' stead for what had become of this town. At one point he had promised to make her his Queen. But when he disappeared, she too abandoned the people. She couldn't even look at the pretty half elf for all the shame she felt.
She wanted to make it right, She WOULD make it right.
With determination she made her way to the old king's study and sat the desk. She pulled a piece of foolscap from the drawer and dipped the quill in ink.
“The reorganization of Varstaad...†She scribbled almost illegibly, then in another stroke she crossed it out and sighed.
“The...†She started again below it. “Damn it!†she struck the desk with her fist frustrated. “Flowered words later!†She stood abruptly ignoring the pain in her head. “Action First!†This was a principle she found most familiar.
Back towards the door, opening to the city, she strode determined to find this man, 'Sir Kendrall', who even in the absence of leadership vowed to keep the city safe.
-----
I will be adding at least 4 parts to this story. Parts of how each piece of the counsel, who we currently have, has come to join the counsel.
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A Letter to Miss Scarlet, left in her home
By Delia | June 21, 2013
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[SVN 680][6/19/2013] Server Update
By TheGuy | June 19, 2013
- Added Shape shift Stone
- Changed the black market vendor prices -75%
- Fixed a couple of small types on one type of weapon
- Added Horse Barding Deed
- Added Weapon Dye Tub
- Metal Armor Dye Tub
- Bankers will not do business with criminals
- Worked on adding new artwork
- Other?
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The Tulsharess, and Vhid (Chaos) rising.
By khaos254 | June 18, 2013
Dhaune walked though the streets, illuminated in a dark glow of the caverns vegetation. She seemed lost in thought excited even. Finally the time has come for chaos to reign. She approached the crypt, Rivvil cries growing louder, gates knowing this would be exactly what lloth had promised.
Dhaune Sinore_6-18_23.12.jpg
Before taking the last stairwell she stopped and spoke to a near by guard. "Quickly gather ever one and tell them to report to the throne room " A surface hour passed before ever one was gathered.
Dhaune Sinore_6-18_21.41.jpg
She sat upon the throne with her Kyrol Zyn at her side. After taking a deep breath Dhaune stood proudly in front before the inhabitants of Naentak, stepping forward with swagger. She began to speak with the cavers acoustics carrying her voice. " I Dhaune Sinore proclaim my self Tulsharess of Naentak to bring chaos to its height as it should be."
Dhaune Sinore_6-18_21.50.jpg
After appointing counsel and a brief discussion on politics. The Tulsharess led the city to the Krypt, where a sacrifice was to be held. Dhaune chanted a prayer in the name of Lloth. With the flick of hands she signaled the Kyrol to dispatch the slaves. Zyn rushed forward gleefully blade in hand slitting the throats in a dance of blood and madness. Cutting off the head of the last he held it out by hair.Taking it Dhaune began praying to Lloth and thank her for this wonderous blessing.
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A note left in Adair de Clair’s office in the lock box
By Delia | June 18, 2013
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Deception, Betrayal, and the Return of the Darkness…
By jordonmojo | June 16, 2013
“You do not know who I am.†said the hooded one. “But I have seen the power of you three filthy humans, your abilities in combat appear unrivaled, and there are few who would dare to oppose you without an army….
“Speak your intentions dark one, or I’ll show you the intention of my hammer!†shouted Rowar.
The hooded figure stood in slilence for a moment with an eery stare as if irritated at the remark before muttering some form of drowan language that the humans could not understand then continued, “It just so happens my current enemy is amassing an army. I do not need you humans, however… our goals are common and YOU will not be able to face the dangers that approach you alone… I offer you immense payment of treasure and lost artifact weapons as payment in order for your temporary alliance.
The hooded figure looked in anger at the barbarian and began rattling off a language in which none of the adventurers could understand before regaining composure.
But do not be mistaken… once our common enemy is defeated… we are just as much enemies with you as your entire surface dwelling race!â€
The adventurers looked at one another puzzled, then Doc spoke, “Ya speak of our ‘common’ enemy, but we haven’t been threatened by anyone that would pose any type’ a threat to us?â€
The hooded stranger looked towards Doc and nodded, then proceeded, “There is a man in power right now whose numbers grow daily, his power is exponential and he has not taken kindly to the three of you and your bandit antics, He is one of tradition and royalty it would seem, I’m basically offering you vast treasure to kill YOUR enemies.â€
The band of ruffians have never been known to turn down gold, but wanted to know more of what they were getting themselves into, Rowar asked, “We do not know you, nor who you want to be crushed by the weight of my hammer, pierced with Doc’s arrow, or obliterated by the lightning of Bankenfeure, you offer treasure… which is good, but you must explain yourself more before we could ever agree to such a deal?â€
The shadow surrounding the hood seemed to grow more powerful as he responded, “This I understand… but if I tell you now then I could risk a hasty decision between the three of you, I will contact you when the time to attack is right, until then be expecting me.†Then as if from nowhere four additional figures arose from behind the original and then in a consuming darkness disappeared. The three adventurers looked upon one another and agreed that it’d be best they stay on their guard when dealing with those around them for the time being.
Many days later, the three were just returning to narrowhaven after battling several fearsome beasts and split up; Doc went to the bowyer across the ferry in order to fix his crossbow, Bankenfeure teleported to the mages shop to fill his bag of reagents, and Rowar went to the blacksmith to repair his splintered and charred wooden shield. Upon arrival Rowar was greeted by the blacksmith as a customer who stops in frequently, he rested his hammer and shield with the blacksmith and went to rest in the corner. From behind him he heard soft footsteps from the other side of the doorway and then the door began to slowly open. Alas, it was once again the same hooded figure from before. “Rowar, I must speak to you somewhere more…Private. quickly, follow me.†Rowar showing no hesitation followed the mysterious figure into the sewers where after a quick walk found themselves inside a secret meeting room full of what appeared to be magical inscriptions. “What is the meaning of this stranger? I grow tired of waiting and your secretive ways, this is your last chance, I am not armed but I have the strength of ten normal men in this hand and I will crush the life out of you if you do not tell me now!†The hooded figure began to laugh and responded almost mockingly, “Oh, of course Mighty Rowar… I will not keep you waiting any longer, the previously mentioned army that I was contesting has returned to their homeland far away from here and pose no threat to our expansion anymore, however… I still thirst for bloodshed, and you will prove quite nicely as an example as to what will happen to all of the surface dwelling race!†Then from behind Rowar came a sound, as Rowar turned a magical dust was blown into his face from another hooded figure which instantly knocked him unconscious.
As Rowar awoke he found himself tied up and being dragged across a cold gravel floor. The two figures stopped before a sacrificial circle and began speaking in their drowan language. Rowar immediately knew the danger that he was in, but was not able to defend himself without any weapons.
The Drows carried him into a room which looked like either a resting place for the dead, full of sarcophagi, potions, and torturous looking mechanisms. The original hooded figure says to Rowar,â€It is a shame that you will not survive this night to warn the surface dwellers of the Drows return. We would have liked to have atleast some resistance from your weak race.†Rowar responded, “Drow… you will pay for this with your life, do your worst!â€
The two began torturing Rowar by cutting his chest with a blade and pouring acid made of mushrooms from the underdark onto the chest of Rowar. They then continued to deliver sa much pain as possible to Rowar in hopes that they would hear cries of agony, but began to be confused when no matter what they did the most they could do was get a grunt of anger from the superhumanly strong man! The two spoke in Drow with one another one last time before leaving the room to grab something that would be sure to cause Rowar pain. Rowar had struggle to break free from the shackles that had tied him several times before, but after the thoughts of the drowan race attacking those closest to him allowed him to put all of his strength into breaking free from the shackles! The two drows entered the room and were instantly bashed upon the faces and they fell to the ground. The Drowan woman shouted out the door as Rowar quickly gathered his gear that they has taken from him and Rowar began to hear screams from many others from outside, he quickly ran out the door andsaw many Drow chasing after him. He quickly used his hearthstone and right before he was grabbed ahold of by the vile Drow he was returned to the inn of Narrowhaven and instantly collapsed. Several citizens outside ran to his aid and after a trip to the healer’s he was visited by his greatest friends Doc and Bankenfeure along with many other bystanders. Rowar awoke and sat up. He looked upon his friends and the other citizens and said, “We thought the Drow to be a weak and dying race… We could not be more wrong, the drow are many strong and are planning a dark war with all those who live above land.â€
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Saoirsia’s Tale
By Nobility | June 14, 2013
The salt from the sea was irritating to the spot under her eyepatch but was refreshing enough to the rest of her that she tolerated the irritation. Ahead oh her, the lights of narrowhaven shone in the distance. The ship was still some ways out and so she had the time to stand idle on deck.
Two weeks had passed since the missive from Daynedun had summoned her from what remained of the estate. Two weeks of rough travel by horse, then foot, then boat. In hindsight the horse might have lived longer if it had not been near starving before she left. There was nothing that could be done for that though, truthfully she stole it from the esate. Well maybe stole was too harsh a word. It used to be her horse anyways. The estate that had been the home of the Danrath for three generations before her father had taken control of it. In five short years he had gambled away a fortune and the debt collectors had taken the estate. Her father had died then. Shock? Perhaps, or perhaps he had been taking loans from men he should have avoided to support his desire to 'win it all back' as he had said.
This complicated things for her. The servants had abandoned her and she had been forced to live as a... a.... a commoner. Absently she rubbed under the eyepatch, this lead to one of the sailors mentioning to her that it wouldn't heal right if she fidgeted with it. Turning on the man the facade she wore changed to one of concealed anger and she politely told the prole that she was well aware of how to deal with her own problems. She added something about the man's resemblance to a sea cucumber and made a few comments about his stink before the man walked away in disgust.
"Filthy prole", she mocked the man under her breath. The mask of rage fell away in seconds and she composed herself, reminding herself of her station and what was expected of her. It was not her place to treat a filthy commoner badly. After all, it wasn't his fault that bathing was an art long since lost on his class.
How Daynedun had known of her plight was something she would need to ask the old man when she arrived. She counted out the coins in her purse and frowned. What little she had been squirreling away had vanished quickly during the journey. She would be nothing more than a pauper when she arrived. A well dressed pauper who knew how to bathe but still a pauper. Then there was the debt. She would need to deal with that as soon as possible. How to spirit enough coins away to make a dent in it though?
These and other thoughts swam through her head as the ship made it's approach and was anchored. She was still thinking on ways when she arrived at the tavern where she was to be met by her cousin Caierris or the old man. Neither were present when she arrived.
She tried other establishments and even resorted to asking the commoners, nothing was helping. No one knew where to find either of them. Her anger was growing as she entered the counting house and demanded information from the man behind the counter. A voice behind her dared to mention something but all she had heard was "respect" and "working class" she turned to face the man, a well dressed individual who had bothered to bathe recently.
She slipped into a more pleasant attitude at once and addressed the man with all due politeness and courtesy. It was the most pleasant conversation she had been privileged to in many months. She was starting to truly enjoy herself when the doors swung open and Caierris, her belligerent and unpleasant cousin, adopted, but still family, entered the counting house.
Oh how she had missed Caierris, finally, someone she could torment without fear of reprisal. The pair laid into each other with fierce quips and sharp tongues. A verbal dance to rival any held by the most skilled combatants in the arts of war. Caierris cracked first and grabbed her wrist, she waved a pleasant goodbye to the well dressed man as she was pulled, then drug, then carried back towards the docks.
A few minutes later she was dumped, uncerimoniously, and quite rudely, on the uneven wooden floor of a house in the slums. "This is it. Home sweet home" Caierris told her in a mocking tone while sweeping her arms around the near empty room .
No, this wasn't happening. Saved from destitution to live in a squalid shack by the docks. This wasn't right, it wasn't fair. It was less than common. It was so dirty, and dusty, and filthy and... and... oh gods above, was that a rat. She picked herself up and dusted the front of her dress off "You have a broom at least? This place isn't fit for habitation" she said, trying to hide her disgust at the state of this place.
"Yes, here" Caierris said, obviously enjoying this as she thrust an old branch with twigs attached to one end at Saoirsia. "This is not a broom" Saoirsia informed her. Caierris grinned widely "Sure it is. It's great for swatting away them rats, watch your step as you clean, rat guts are awfully hard to get up" Caierris mocked as she walked back through the doors.
Saoirsia fell to her knees and dropped the broom with a clatter. She was on the verge of tears when a gnarled old hand landed on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I ken it's nay much lass but dun ye start. I ken fer a fact it be better than what yer father left ye. Bad business that, aye?" Daynedun spoke to her with his usual matter of factness. She turned and wrapped her arms around the old man and accepted the luxury of being allowed to weep in private.
He patted her back and squeezed her. "Get it all oot now lass. When it be over we'll be giving this place a right clean" he whispered into her ear. Several hours later the place at least looked livable. The work had been simple, demeaning, and dirty, but it felt good somehow. As the pair stood side by side in a corner Daynedun, arm around Saoirsia said "There, feels a bit better,aye? Gettin the place lookin nice an livable? Now, I ken ye been through a bit, aye". Saoirsia nodded slowly. "Maybe" she thought "Maybe this isn't going to be as bad as I thought".
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Stranger in a Strange Land
By Dantares | June 13, 2013
Damion could go wherever he wished, in this world or the ones between. He however chose this conventional path to tread through the punishment of a desert at high noon, clearing his mind over and over before filling it with endless pondering.
It had been some time since he'd spent any meaningful length of time in Narrowhaven, helping those he could and knew of their need. It was a strange fit of anxiety that drove him away, perhaps from his loneliness or his isolation from some simply due to their incredible beauty. He thought often of Delia, Scarlet, Crisy, Adicia.. of the bar maid that winked at him, down to the seamstress that just always seemed to know what sort of repairs he would require even before he entered the door.
They tormented him in a way, because he knew the nature of affection and how fickle and crushing it can potentially be. Long has he known of feelings unrequited, and the prison that can become.
He trudged forward shaking his head, as though the liquid thoughts could spew from his ears and he would bring a temporary end to them.
He climbed up and over a large sand dune, melting in with the rest of the ripples around him. He just needed time to think, time to find a way to restrain his wistful heart and wandering imagination from obliterating all that he was inside, Leaving only a husk of responsiblity and purpose behind.
He resolved to venture forth to lands unknown and explore what the eye could behold. Perhaps becoming lost for a time wouldn't be so bad? It may just be what he needed.
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