Carnifex's Story Hour (Updated January 20th, "The Union")

[Carnifex]

Acrozatarim: Fire and Ice



If you wish to go to Chapter 1: The Arcanists Tower, go here: http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showt...847#post591847

Note that the prologue section itself is several pages of campaign gaming!

And you can find the 2nd story hour thread, following on from this one, here:
Carnifex's SH - Updated July 24th, Light and Questions

You can also find a thread will crunchy bits from the campaign - monsters, spells, prestige classes etc. here:
http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showt...threadid=39102


Well, seeing as how I've just recently started up a new campaign online and things are progressing nicely, I thought I'd take the time to start writing it up as a story hour here on the ENboards .

I'm running the game on www.roleplayinggames.net - the actual game can be found at:

http://roleplayinggames.net/adnd/board24/

Under the Campaign Details section on the menu there you can find a bit more background and detail on the various nations and gods in the pantheons. It's a world with a bit of a steampunk feel in places, such as thaumineering to blend magic with technology, and Manipulation, the art of bio-thaumaturgy and genetic manipulation

The Cast of Characters:

Burl Overton: 1st level Necromancer
Burl's the son of a cryomancer, one of the ice mages who rule Cryosia. His mother though was purchased from slavers, and her mental illness and wish to return to her home land of Corinthia influenced the young Burl. He eventually tried to leave south to take his mother home, but even as he finally finished the arduous trek over dangerous lands his mother fell ill and died.

He encountered a hermit, who took him in - it turned out the old man was a necromancer who schooled Burl in that art of magic - since he had already been groomed to become a cryomancer, Burl had the necessary understanding to make him a good student. At the age of 21, Burl decided it was time for him to leave his tutor, Raymond, and make his own way into the world.

Burl has a familiar hedgehog called Spike.

Melisande: 1st level Sorceror
Carthagian by birth, her mother was a minerologist who after an unknown event in some deep mine became pregnant and gave birth to Melisande. She's an aasimar with blue skin and natural magic in her veins, as well as being rather naive and having a fascination with nature and living things. She ended up being trained as a Manipulator - basically a bio-thaumaturgist. They're common in Carthagia, where they do things such as the selective breeding of fang dragons to create a stupid, placable breed, the flesh-twisting of goblin slaves to cerate tough mine workers, the Manipulation of animals like horses to create steeds with more muscle (sometimes directly surgically implanted) and things like that. Of course, Melisande really didn't like the rather sinister and disturbing side of the work she was carrying out in the labs.

As a result of this, her mother sent her north to the land of Naseria, a land ruled by sorceror-nobles, to make her way there - the senior Manipulators were not going to just let her leave the labs with the knowledge of their techniques that she had, so she had to flee into exile.

She has a two-headed toad familiar called Pierre that she Manipulated herself.

Wyshira: 1st level cleric of Ishrak
Wyshira is a water genasi, and one of the clerics of Ishrak (the Storm Lady) in a Cryosian village. However, her sister was groomed to take over the role of priestess there, so Wyshira set out to see the world.

Sandslipper: 1st level psion (nomad)
Sandslipper is an earth genasi psion, and a desert nomad from the Myrmecian desert in the south. Her family has the 'Blessing of Grumand' in the form of the genasi bloodline, that the nomands believe the god Grumand granetd to certain families long ago as a reward for their faith. Of course, her appearance is less accepted everywhere else.

She doesn't realise she is 'psionic', believing her powers come from her Blessing and the spirit of her mother helping her. She was forced to flee north afetr she had a relationship with another woman - something frowned upon by the nomads - and reached the land of Huron.

Update: Sandslipper's player has sadly had to leave the game due to illness - in Story Hour timeline, she left about the time that the Cavern Company encounter Asak and his kobold followers. I sincerely hope she gets better as soon as possible, and wish her well in the future.

Kale Amegrion: 1st level rogue
A Corinthian, Kale had a priviledged childhood but couldn't settle down doing any one thing. Eventually his exasperated parents entolled him in a military school. He railed against this but at the end of it realised that, in fact, he really did want to be a soldier. However, he had such a reputation as a troublemaker by then that he didn't have the connections to become an officer, instead joining a mercenary band. Exasperated by their lack of competence he then left - without their consent - looking to make his own way in the world.

Sebastion Cornell: 1st level fighter
Born in a border-town between Carthagia and Huron, Seb is the son of the local farrier, who once was a soldier in an elite unit for the Huronese army but due to some disaster he was involved in - he wont speak of what - he retired and became a mercenary for a while, before finally settling down. Sebastion himself has been a member of the town guard for a while, but wants to se more of the world, and has recieved proper military training from his father.

Ebri Zol: 1st level cleric of Immar
This character is something a little special - she is in fact not just a level 1 cleric, but that is all the other players know. Her story is that her parents died in a city due to plague, adn she has taken to wandering and travelling - Immar being the patron deity of travel. She's very attentive and interested in gathering information.

Meg'anna Liadon: 1st level druid
Meg'anna's village was slaughtered by fleshtearers when she was a tiny child. Fleshtearers are the shock-troops of the Church of Toran in Carthagia - they are made by Manipulators, then some closely-guarded ceremony by priests of Toran brings them to life. A druid found her and took her into his care, bringing her up.

The druids of the area live in harmony with the gnoll tribes (IMC gnolls are not slavering evil psychopaths), and there is a lively political arena amongst the druids, especially over the split between those who follow the nature goddess Lliras and those who simply believe in the fundamental force of nature. They all answer to the High Druid though (currently a gnoll). Meg used to be very active and vocal in such debates, but then she and her mentor were trading at a gnoll village when a fleshtearer squad was deployed by the Carthagians (who border the area the gnolls inhabit) and killed her tutor and most of the gnolls, while one tore at her throat and ruined her vocal cords.

She fled back to her grove, and lived there in isolation and mourning. Oddly she found she no longer needed to speak the words of spells, now that that she was mute, but instead strange soudns would be invoked when she cast them - basically the character manifests audible 'displays' psionic-style instead of having verbal components to spells.



That's the characters in the campaign. Soon I'll write up the events thus far...

[Broccli_Head]

Interesting world. Will have to check back from time to time....
I like the diversity of the characters and the bio-manipulation. Will definitely check out website and world background.

[Carnifex]

Note that the campaign started at the end of winter/beginning of spring.

Now for the tale of how Burl has fared so far...

Burl left his tutors cabin on the southern reaches of the Khaya-Dan mountains, and headed south into Corinthia proper, soon passing the last undead sentinel that marked the limits of Rayomnds domain - a skeleton sunk into a tree, a few bones just poking out of the bark. After a days walk - fairly tiring for the necromancer, since most of his days were spent in study while the undead servants did most of the menial work - Burl came to the village of Irlain.

Nothing unusual about coming across a village in Corinthia - he had after all spent the last couple of hours walking amidst cultivated fields, and had expected to find one. There was something odd though - it wasn't yet that late, yet the villagers had already all returned to within the safety of the settlements walls.

Approaching it, he was questioned by a sentry at the gate, who told him there was word of orc-kin raiding down from the Khaya-Dan mountains recently. The guard let him in, and he spent the evening in the local tavern, picking up information - one particularly talkative drunk telling him that rumour had it robed figures were helping the orcs - who were acting far more intelligently and orderly than normal orcs - and even claiming he had seen orc scouts himself. The innkeeper advised Burl to take little notice of the man, who was a notorious story-teller. He also picked up information that one of the powerful merchant families of Corinthia, the Irilsons, were sending some troops to deal with the problem.

He settled down for the evening, but was awoken when the gates of the settlement where blasted apart in the early hours of the morning - looking out his window revealed a column of armoured orcs marching in, accompanied by a red-cloaked rider on a horse and a white-robed figure as well. The red-robe conjured up some fire in its hand for the orc soldiers to light their torches rfom, then they dispersed into the village, taking slaves and killing those who resisted.

Burl got the hell out of there, running out the back door of the inn and heading for some animal pens near the palisade running round the village. He nearly made it but then two orcs saw him and came charging after him, one climbing up onto the palisade - a magica missile took care of one while a daze slowed the progress of the one on the palisade.

It looked like he might make it out.

Then the white-robe turned up, and with a telekinetic blast levelled the animal pens and sent terrified livestock runninf everywhere.

Burl faced off with the figure, trying to convince him to let Burl, who had after all only been in the wrong place at the wrong time, go free. The robed man pulled back his hood, revealing an aged, bearded man, and in irritation used magic to cause two blocks of ice to solidify around the necromancers feet, giving him time to think over what to do with Burl. Surprisingly, the man seemed to recognise Burl's features from somewhere though he couldn't remember where.

He conversed with the red-robed man as some more orc soldiers turned up and kept crossbows trained on Burl. From what the necromancer could hear of the conversation, the red-robed man proposed taking him as a slave with the rest, but the white-robe decided that he would just be a liability. There was some mysterious talk about something to do with Manipulating intelligence into the desired bloodlines more easily, then the orcs and men departed, the red-robe instructing one soldier to deal with Burl.

It fired a crossbow at him, the bolt hitting him solidly in the chest and knocking him over, ice shoes and all, into unconciousness.

* * *

Burl awoke in some sort of tent, bandaged and being tended to by a young woman. She informed him that he'd been badly burned by the village burning down - and that they'd found him in the wreckage of the place with a crossbow bolt in his chest. He also discovered this was the camp of the Irilson vanguard, before lapsing into sleep again.

When he came round, someone was arguing with the nurse - a tall half-elven man in dark, gothic plate armour, with long lank black hair and pale skin. Eventually bargin his way into the tent, he began to question Burl over what had happened in the village in a particularly unfriendly manner, hinting that he'd had the mages spellbook looked at and knew he was a necromancer. He also introduced himself as Lord Morgrim Pendarme and claimed command of the expedition, which he said was a combined operation between his troops and the Irilsons men.

Burl decided to resort to the truth, recounting his story to Morgrim who really didn't look very impressed...

* * *

That's Burl so far. I'm sorry that this isn't very well written as yet - the party has yet to come together and is scattered far and wide, so I'm recounting the story as different strands for the different characters. It'll all become easier as more and more of the characters come together into a party...

[Carnifex]

Thanks Broccli_Head. The world is actually based on a previous homebrew of mine that sort of petered out - I completely 'refitted' it into the newer version, adding the elements of science and technology into it. They make for a graet ideological conflict, between the 'advance' of bio-thaumaturgy and thaumineering, and the 'primitiveness' of some societies such as the gnolls, who have a society very much centred round druidism and shamanism (they call their psions shamen, and believe they draw their power from the spirit world).

[The Sunderer]

I like the look of this! Good stuff!

I am particularly intruiged by the Fleshtearers :-)

[Carnifex]

Now onto the tale of Melisande...

Her story began on the edge of the borderlands between Carthagia and the nation of Naseria, a land ruled by noble Houses of sorcerors, and defended by the elite Elemental Orders of the Mage-Knights, the Flame Hawks, Iron Hawks, Wind Hawks and Wave Hawks. She'd never travelled there before but had heard tales of the land; and it seemed a good place to start her new life.

Carthagia and Naseria have often been in conflict, most recently in the Fang Wars of 20 years ago, so named after the Carthagian fang dragons involved in the conflict. Due to this there is a thick swathe of no-mans land wilderness between the two nations, seperating the northern lands of the brutal militaristic and feudalistic nation of Carthagia (ruled by a Warlord) from the lands of the southmost Naserian Houses (Thrazan, Corvus and Merlihr). This was what Mel was going to have to cross.

To her south, the mighty mountains of the nation of Carthagia rose up, while to the north, the wilderness of forest and wastelands stretched. She set off without any real worries - Mel can be well described as 'naive'...

She wandered along a path through the forest. It was drizzling, the onset of spring bringing such weather, and the forest was still largely rather barren and leafless, but Mel and her love of living things was happy to see things such as foxes skittering away occasionally, reassuring her of the cycle of nature here. Then she heard cries of alarm up ahead.

She stepped out of the clearing to see some two-dozen Carthagian men clad in chainmail clustered in the middle, shields up in a protective wall. At her appearance one of the men gawped at her, amazed at her blue skin.

She was used to surprised reactions but this was a bit much - then she suddenly realised that a score of soldiers clustered togather was unlikely to be purely due to her skin colour. This was reinforced when an arrow from outside the ring of trees tore the mans throat out. It was accompanied by shrill whistling like that of birds, that sounded like it was being used as communication.

Mel suddenly felt fear as the men began to shout more orders and brought their shields back up again, the odd-looking woman forgotten in the face of the unseen enemy. She rushed up and wormed her way inside the shield wall, trying to find out what the hell they were up against, but in their panic, firing crossbows at the slightest movement amongst the trees, they just ignored her. After an entangle spell had caught some of the men and odd coloured lights amidst the trees had cries of 'shamen' rising up, gnolls swarmed out from the trees as the Carthagians fell into absolute panic.

Mel had only ever seen bits of gnolls in the bio-labs - to see a real one was impressive. Think of Native American style decorations - the gnolls festooned themselves with little bead charms and feathers, as well as being covered with extensive tattooes and warpaint depicting patterns and totem images. One particularly decorated individual must have been the druid, while two more gnolls loped out of the trees with hands twisted into claws and muzzles full of fiercely sharp teeth - shamen (egoist psions in fact).

Seeing that some elementary nature magic and some bright lights had spooked the humans, Mel invoked her natural ability to create light to light up the point of her spear and hold it up, trying to rally the men.

This failed miserably when instead it distracted one man enough for a gnoll archer to bring him down with an arrow.

Battle erupted, the shamen and gnoll warriors scything through the humans; but the Carthagians weren't green novices and were putting up a fight. A dual-wielding gnoll ranger struck Mel and sent her toppling over into the mid as he eviscerated another Carthagian, and as she squirmed in pain and tried to avoid getting stepped on, the druid called lightning to incinerate one of the men. That was pretty much it for the Carthagian morale, and they began to get slaughtered.

Once the battle was over, the gnolls proceeded to move amidst the carnage, finishing off the injured. The ranger moved over to Mel, preparing to finish her off; rather than the bloodlust she expected to see in its eyes, instead she saw only sadness and maybe even fear, and it sighed unhappily, weaving the sign of Immar with one hand, as it prepared to finish her off.

It was halted by the druid. As the gnolls vanished back into the forest again, leaving only the carnage, the druid spoke to her in poor, snarled common, pointing deeper into the forest in the direction of a path.

"Look at truth, there."

Then it too left her, all alone, severely injured and lying in the mud. Using her spear as a walking stick, she slowly hobbled off, determined to see the 'truth' the druid spoke of before she died.

She found the truth, as after a long time she came across a druid grove - a ring of stones, next to a small brook. The plant life around it was abundant and green, despite the time of year.

It would have all been a beautiful sight apart from two things.

One was the line of gnoll graves, each marked with the sign of Immar.

The other was the crucified fleshtearer; the beast was pinned up with large wooden splinters. It looked, from the blood on its talons and spilled over its furred chest under its muzzled face, as if it had been in battle, with most of the blood on it probably being that of enemies before they finally managed to bring it down.

She settled down in the peace of the grove, crying because she felt awfully alone, hurt and wanted the protection of her mother, before washing herself in the brook. She considered all that she had seen and came to the conclusion that what must have happened is that the fleshtearer had killed many gnolls, but in the end they'd brought it down. She had no idea why it had been released out here, and assumed the Carthagian warriors had been attacked as retaliation, although since Carthagian soldiers usually wore heavy metal armour made from the ore of the mountain mines, the lightly armoured humans must have been militia or scouts.

She'd only ever seen a fleshtearer once or twice, been allowed a quick view into a containment chamber where one was crouched in the corner devouring a meal. She knew some of the basis of the theory, had seen 'tearer parts being grown in thaum-tanks and put together with Manipulation magic and science, but the final ritual of creation was done with priests of Toran.

(Unlike other Carthagians, who almost all worship Toran, Mel is disillusioned by what she has seen in the Manipulator laboratories, and has rejected his faith).

That night she had a strange dream of a shadow-figure looming over her, and strange words:

I take a risk / dare I break / the silence of duty

Strange, alien words, not words at all but... feeling.

Too late perhaps / yet too early / to judge

And
that / is what / I must do

Judge

It is my task

Then it reached out for her and she'd woken up in terror, to find a small package next to her. She detected magic on the contents; this had the side effect of showing her the sheer amount of natural magic flowing around the stone circle, and she could see the magic still draining out of the 'tearer corpse (Transmutation and Necromancy - staples of Manipulation, along with Abjuration and Conjuration). In the parcel was a vial of herbal liquid (couldn't tell what school of magic, but she drank half of it and it healed her wounds somewhat), a vial of shadow (evocation), and a small emblem of an eye within a triangle within a circle (divination. She was a bit apprehensive but then put it on anyway, and nothing bad seemed to happen). Also 12 tindertwigs at the bottom.

Lighting a fire to dry herself off a bit and warm herself up, now healed, she wondered about her mysterious benefactor then set off again.

Deeper into the woods, as night fell again, she came across a suitable area for camp. The only problem was that there were odd footprints around, but Mel didn't really worry about it and went to sleep anyway.

And here another of the characters, the druid Meg'anna, comes into the story. She was wandering through the woods that evening. Something in the balance of nature was wrong, she knew it - something was despoiling the area. She knew there was a group of bizarre creatures called dreadspawn in the area. She also knew the gnolls were around, though she hadn't actually encountered them - their druid had left a message for her carved in some bark in the druidic language. It said:

Battle - despoilers - dreadspawn - ambush.

And that was all.

Puzzling over this, she almost walked onto the waking Mel, who had been awoken by her familiar at the druidesses approach.

And thats as far as those two have got so far.

I do wish I could be more detailed, but there's a fair bit to go through and I don't want to have to rewrite each and every post I've done for the players I'm missing some stuff out or just not going into much detail, but hopefully not missing anything important.

[Carnifex]

Thanks Sunderer At the moment I'm just recounting everything that has thus far happened so its all a bit rushed, but hopefully as the campaign progresses the quality of the story hour will improve too

And of course, more will be revealed about Fleshtearers (and perhaps even their bigger cousins, Fleshrenders! )

[Carnifex]

And onto the next character - Sebastion Cornell...

Seb came back home one evening after his guard duty to find that his father had some business - a row of well-kept stallions outside the farriers were waiting. The fifth one was clearly Manipulated since it was bigger - with visible bulges where additional muscle had been implanted on legs and neck - and had hooves more like claws, a mouthful of sharp teeth and worryingly intelligent eyes.

It turned out that five Blood Ravens had stopped into town on their way north into Carthagia, to fight for some lord on the nations northern border. The Blood Ravens are a fairly prestigious mercenary company in Huron - these five men were a small detachment acting independently after a campaign in southern Huron against sarsniks in the desert (sarsniks are halfling-like creatures - think Mongols).

That evening one of the mercenaries slept out the front of the farriers, with the horses and packs, when the rest went to the tavern, and Seb brought him some food out. They struck up conversation and Argus, the mercenary, told Seb tales of things he had seen - blue dragons, the Black Knights of Zhatan in their steam-powered armour, and more besides. It fired up Seb's imagination and wish to travel, and when he despondantly noted he had little future other than as a town guard, Argus offered him to come north with the Ravens, since it was apparent to the mercenary that this man was a cut above the usual guardsman material.

Seb decided to think over it, adn after a talk with his father which revealed that the older man understood how his son had felt - indeed, that was how his father had once been himself - Seb left with the Ravens the next morning.

That evening when they settled down to camp, Seb found hidden amidst the baggae on his horse his fathers two-bladed sword. His father had trained him how to use it effectively, and as a parting gift had secreted it amidst the bags, giving his son his trusted weapon.

The next day they set out again. Carthagia borders in the east with the wilds of the Drakkath, the name given to a huge area in which there are several nations but alos a lot of wilderness. The edge of Carthagia descends down from mountains into foothills, where the borderlands are called the Sudokan valley, before rising up into the Sarokean mountains which run north-south on the Drakkath's western border. The band travelled north up the Sudokan rather than through Carthagia since it would be faster - but then they came across the remnants of a band of Carthagians who appeared to have been slaughtered by gnolls. Whole they were checking through the bodies they disturbed two scything slayers - think five-foot tall mantises with scythe-arms - which were hidden under bodies and feeding on the carrion - as Seb approached one corpse the slayer suddenly unfolded from beneath and pushed it off. It badly injured him with its claws and emitted a shrill nosie that grated on his nerves, making his aim poorer and alerting the other slayer nearby. As the others quickly dealt with the second scything slayer, Seb reacted with his two-bladed sword and in one round cut down his foe, impressing Argus (the leader of the band).

They headed north for many days after that, Argus leading them into Carthagia proper since while it might take longer, at least that way it would be safer. Eventually they arrived at the northern border, where the no-mans land with Naseria started.

Enterimng the camp of the Carthagian lord Colchis, they were informed they would be taking part in a sweeping operation into the borderlands to destroy some creatures called dreadspawn there. Several infantry units led by scouts would be taking part, whith magical support from Flame Guildsmen, an influential invokers guild. They also met the Deacon Lukus Naerban, a priest of Toran, who informed them that the strike unit they would be accompanying would also be accompanied by a fleshtearer - something the Blood Ravens weren't too happy about.

At the moment, Seb is in camp preparing with the other Ravens, since the next day they will be moving on the dreadspawn...

[Carnifex]

And moving on to the tale of Wyshira and Kale so far...

For Wyshira, the story begins as she leaves her village in southern Cryosia, wandering towards the nearest town, Kriel. Without much clear idea of where she's going, and feeling unhappy at leaving home, she came on her wanderings to a river and a ford. There she found Kaerval.

He was lying by a tree on the other side of the road, where it disappeared into fir forest, with an arrow embedded in his shoulder. It was clear he'd need help soon, because even int eh wound didn't kill him, the bitter cold of Cryosia, even in early spring, would finish him off for sure. She hurried over and used healing magic to heal him, even as she did so a shrill cry ringing out over the treetops. Once he had come round, the man introduced himself as Kaerval, a young bard heading south-east to the border between Cryosia and the Drakkath to meet his mercenary uncle who had promised to show him the sights of the world. He also explained that he had been atatcked by mine goblins, been hit by the arrow but managed to escape. Then a drazhikar - the source of the cry, he said, describing it as 'winged fury' among other things, some sort of massive eagle-beast - had picked up his blood trail and had been following him. He also noted it was extremely rare to find a drazhikar around here.

Together they headed on to Kriel, Kaerval capturing Wyshira's imagination with his stories and eagerness to see such sights as the massive Dawn Fortress or the ship-filled harbour of Iril. She decided to head on with him and meet his uncle, to offer her services as a healer to the mercenary, a man called Wolf. After a brief stay in Kriel - where she gets odd looks due to her skin colour, though as a priestess of Ishrak she also gets respect - they head on.

Then as they near their destination, they are attacked by some mine goblins, led by some odd, tall goblinoid with a rhino-like head and off heavy build. They are pinned down behind a rock by arrow fire...

Kale's story begins on the coast. A mercenary called Wolf, (a fighter/ranger Cryosian) had taken the young man under his wing. Right now, they were doing a job. A small village on the southern border of Cryosia, near the coast, had been marauded by some aquatic monster that took animals and even villagers occasionally. The pair were currently stalking it through the mist, after it had taken another animal and they'd found the tracks. The coast here was bare rock for about a hundred meters between waters edge and land, all rock pools and slime-slicked stone.

Chasing it down to its lair, Kale moved to flank through the mist while Wolf headed to tackle it head-on.

As he approached, Kale saw the brine beast through the mist. Appearing like a flabby, water-logged fleshed ogre-thing of pale blubbery skin, shovel-like claws and a strange fin running down its back, the thing smelled his approach when Wolf charged out of the mist, attacking with javelin and sword. It turned on the ranger as Kale then closed to sneak attack it - at this it turned round and disarmed him.

The struggle was fierce, with Wolf taking a beating while Kale tried to injure it with his darts. Then it knocked Wolf over and turned on Kale, who grabbed a half-submerged short sword from the slimy muck of the things nest. As Wolf got up again and clambered onto the beasts back, shoving his sword into it and hanging on for dear life, Kale took a wild sweep with the blade and with a critical hit severed the monsters arm. It finally collapsed into death.

Back at the village they recieved their payment and Kale realised the weapon he had grabbed was quite ornate and elaborate, depicting waves along the blade. Wolf revealed his plans to head north to try and find his nephew, whom he had arranged to meet with in the village but who was a few days late...

So Kale and Wolf arrived just as Kaerval and Wyshira were pinned down by arrow fire. As three goblins closed in on the boulder they were hiding behind, Wyshira's obscuring mist spell let them escape a short way whiole confusing the goblins. Then Kale and Wolf pelted out of the trees, Kale hurling darts while Wolf tackled the leader-goblinoid. The goblin arrows injured Wolf as he closed but Kale, partially behind a tree, was saved from becoming a pin cushion by his cover (it blocked at least a couple of critical hits!). He hit the leader with a dart but even as Wolf closed in on it they both saw the wound already healing up!

With the three goblins still lost in the mist, Kaerval saw his uncle in trouble and led the charge against the goblin archers. Kale took one out with a dart while Kaerval skewered another - then a solid javelin hit from Wyshira brought down the goblinoid leader, whom Wolf beheaded with a coup-de-grace.

This was too much for the goblins, who fled.

After some brief introductions, and Wolf agreeing to have Wyshira along as a healer, he has proposed to the group that they now go north-east to the port of Jormungand, and then take a ship south to the port of Iril - the alternative being to walk there, which would require crossing an area of the Drakkath ruled by hobgoblins, and then the perilous Khaya-Dan mountains...

[Carnifex]

And now onto the final character so far (Ebri Zol has yet to actually begin in the campaign, though she's almost ready now)...

Sandslipper, the nomad psion. Her tale begins as she wanders north along the western boundary of Huron, the Cliffs of Zhatan. These massive cliffs seperate the nation from the goblin-infested wastelands to the west.

She wasn't used to the damp and rain of early spring. The desert was, above all, always dry. She also didn't like much the reception she often recieved - in the desert her people held her in respect as one of the 'Blessed of Grumand', yet here people stared at her like she was some sort of a freak...

That evening she stopped off at a hostel, one of the government-run stopping places on the roads. Entering, she saw five well dressed, muscular men, who took interested note of her odd appearance,while the innkeeper approached her. When she told him she had no money he angrily told her to leave since they weren't a charity, but one of the men intervened, offering to pay for her food and lodgings in return for her to tell them of herself and her people. The innkeeper, obviously in awe of the men, went along with this.

So she told them of herself, and she asked them questions as well. They were Dracoverr, they said, the elite troops of the Lord Commander of Huron, on their way to Huron - which was where she too was heading, since she'd heard of it as a big and important city. The Dracoverr seemed to have mixed views on the place, at best considering it as a 'melting pot'. They explained how the city had grown up chaotically around the Tower of Zhatan, a massive tower-fortress, hence its confusing and unruly nature. Her request to travel there in their company was accepted.

The next day they left, th Dracoverr no longer in their fine clothes, but now in master-crafted armour that had much of the protection of plate yet with the flexibility of chain, allowing them to fight incredibly well on horseback - for which they were famous. Later that day they reached Zhatan.

On a bluff of the Cliffs, the massive fortress dominated the city which sprawled around it. They passed through the main gate, guarded by soldiers and a Flame Guild invoker, and then the Dracoverr left her, saying they had business in the Tower to attend to.

Wandering the streets of Zhatan a little confusedly, Sandslipper saw many sights - a fire genasi Flame Guildsman surrounded by lesser evokers; dwarves jostling through the crowds; a compound with the sign 'Pumping Station 3' which held some sort of machinery, guarded by troops with repeater crossbows and a heavily armed man with a brace of pistols. Eventually during her wanderings she ended up outside a gnomish workshop warehouse, gnomes rushing around inside using magic and welding tools to put together machinery. Here a man introducing himself as Mercurius approached her, offering to hook her up with some people who wanted to meet her. She agreed and followed him.

As they passed by an alleyway entrance, he used ego whip on her and bundled her into the alleyway, but before he could do anything else two more men turned up on the scene - a younger man in a long cloak and an older man wielding an ornate looking pistol. Mercurius's hands shifted into claws as he manifested another psionic power but then the younger man took him down with a thrown dagger and after some insults being bandied back and forth, the older man executed Mercurius with his pistol. Rather than the usual crack of gunfire though, magical thaumineering on the pistol created a sound dampening field so there was just a dull thud as it blew the psions head apart.

Sandslipper lay dazed and confused through all this, having been caight flat-footed by the psionic attack mode; the older man told her he'd been sent to take her to 'Mr. Fireball', and that if she tried any psionic stuff he'd kill her too, no questions asked. Sandslipper was confused since she doesn't call herself psychic, thinking her power comes from her mother and the Blessing, but she accompanied them at gunpoint.

They took her to a deserted street and into the cellar of an old house, where many more people were meeting and quietly discussing plans - she figured it must be some sort of illegal organisation. Then she was shown into Mr. Fireballs room (having found out from her captors that exactly what Fireball is was unknown.

Half the room was cloaked in thick shadows that even her darkvision couldn't penetrate, apart from an impression of a faint figure sitting behind a desk there. Some conversation took place, Fireball indicating he knew a fair bit about her, and also that his men had saved her from probable death at the hands of the ones that Mercurius worked for, though he doesn't elaborate. When she irritates him a little, his eyes flare up red, though revealing nothing else of him - she assumes this is why he is called 'Fireball', though he seems to treat names as unimportant from the way he speaks about them. Eventually he offers her a job - he wants a package transported to a Naserian sorceror he calls a 'Truth Seeker', going by the name of Ecurius Tarravus - Tarravus is the royal family of Naseria and Ecurius is a member of some side-branch of House Tarravus. The payment he offers is quite substantial since Sandslipper is pretty much unknown by the power-players of Zhatan and thus they wouldn't make a connection between her and the package to Fireball, which is how he wants things. She agrees, and after recieving some payment up front and buying some equipment she heads north from Zhatan.

She crosses the border with Carthagia and heas up the Sudokan valley. As she sets up camp one evening, on the first night she's in the valley proper, a tattooed gnoll silently approaches, suddenly walking out of the shadows across the other side of her campfire. Since he doesn't seem immediately hostile, and she doesn't know what a gnoll is nor has ever seen one, she greets him and offers him to sit and warm himself by the fire.

The gnoll crouches down, and begins to speak in a bizarre, mystical way, in fluent and melodic common. Here's its actual words from the post:

"A strange web-weave-thread is here," it began in a singsong tone.

"The web dips round you, an alien weight in the weave-plan, drawing others in and down. Shadows dance along the path but do not take notice; why? Shimmering eyes of light that see you as a tool do not see you as more, yet round the threads they weave so skilfully you bring new spider-walking ways. Far travel elicits close retaliation of kind, perhaps, if thread-weaving shadow-spiders merge with the dark."

"Intriguing patterns you weave, yet do not realise? Shaman-sight grants weave-walking, yet here the web is fractured, failing..."




So that is it so far - the campaign as it stands...

[The Sunderer]

This is all very interesting :-)

I hear you on the difficulty of catching up with an old game... I am having exactly the same problem with my Sundered Sky Storyhour.

I like the mixture of steampunk and firearms, again given that Sundered Sky is a pirate setting, I asm attempting the same thing...

Good stuff, I look forward to the next installment.

[Carnifex]

Thanks

I've put in a smattering of technology around the place - firearms are hardly common, however, in the nation of Adbar, a highly religious nation devoted to the sun-god Solanthar, often pistols are used by officers and Inquisitors as a symbol of rank, while the elite Dawn Guard actually use muskets. Of course, there's the whole aspect of magical firearms opened up there, such as the thaumineered pistol with the sound-dampening field.

Then there's the Black Knights of Zhatan, a favourite of mine... think steam-powered armour and a rather nasty magical/technology mix that allows them to gout super-heated steam from their dragon-helms

[The Sunderer]

I really like that sound dampened Pistol, and seeing as the rogue in my party has chosen the pistol as his ranged weapon I might just "procure" it...

His sneak attacks are literally stunning at the moment

[Carnifex]

.

[Carnifex]

Right then, the first of what will hopefully be weekly updates! Since it's been under a week since I posted up the original story thus far, this update will probably be a little shorter than usual.

Anyway, on with the story...

Still lying bandaged in a tent in a Corinthian military camp, with Lord Pendarme listening to him, Burl has just recounted what happened to him in the village - and it's pretty immediately obvious that Morgrim doesn't believe he's telling the truth. In a rather unpleasant manner, he tells Burl this, even going so far as to accuse him of being in league with the robed mages leading the orcs; he then informs the protesting Burl that they'll head back to Iril, the port-capital of Corinthia, where he'll have people check whether the wizard really is telling the truth or not - and makes it fairly clear he believes that Burl will fail that test. Then he leaves the injured man, sending the cleric along to heal him because he needs to be fit enough to travel.

The cleric, a big man in gleaming plate armour wearing a holy symbol of Solanthar the sun-god, storms in, intimidating the nurse (who tries her best to convince him to heal Burl) by ranting away. He's clearly upset at the thought of having to heal a necromancer, since the sun-gods followers hate undead with a passion, but eventually climbs down from his high horse enough to agree that if Burl can give him one good reason, he'll heal him.

Burl starts off by mentioning he worships Charon.

Bad idea.

The priest goes absolutely ballistic in sheer amazement at the prospect of someone asking him to heal a follower of the death god, and storms out angrily. The nurse sits down resignedly.

"Oh bugger," she sighs. "You screwed that one up, didn't you? You do realise that Charon and Solanthar hardly get along don't you?"

Pendarme returns, exasperated but also somewhat amused at what has happened - he informs Burl that whether or not he's been healed, they're heading south - him, Pendarme, Karai, and a small contingent of troops. When Burl tries to stand up and leave, Pendarme throws a bag of his clothes at him (knocking him back onto the bed), telling him to get dressed and get ready to leave quickly; and not to trry and escape, seeing as how he's in the middle of a military camp.

They set off south-east towards Iril. Pendarme leads the column of soldiers (all wearing the pendarme livery of a black lion on red), while a little behind him, Burl can see an elven woman riding side-saddle, whom he assumes is Karai; with a dark blue dress and thick fur cloak, she seems richly attired, but more striking is her lustrous gray hair and also gray skin.

When they strike camp that night, Burl hemmed in next to his campfire by the soldiers all around, Karai pays him a visit, and he can see now just how beautiful the strange gray elven woman really is. She returns his spellbook to him, and seems sympathetic, especially towards his being a necromancer, saying it can be a long and hard path to follow.

Karai then mentions something about the wisdom of acquiring a patron; Burl protests that he has no power or standing in his field to offer a patron, but she informs him that fealty and service can be as valuable, since a seed planted now can grow into a mighty oak, emphasising this by performing some minor magic to send some of the dead grass twining up into a tiny humanoid figure that totters for a few steps, then closing her eyes and invoking a thunderbolt on the horizon with a thought; this latter magic startles the camp sentries into alertness, amusing Burl.

He asks her about herself, but she proves evasive, only going as far as to say that while Burl and Morgrim are really both as much captives here as each other - Morgrim by his position as head of the Pendarme family - she is here of her own free will. She also says that she believes Burl's story but she will not intercede on his behalf, since she feels Morgrim - who is yet young and inexperienced - needs to learn from his mistakes; she reveals that Morgrim is in fact her nephew.

With that she leaves him, and the night passes uneventfully.

The next day they reach Iril, a wealthy and important city, since it is the only port on the eastern coast of the Drakkath, and so several nations have to send their trade routes through it. Lying on the river Saphrin (which is filled with merchant barges and boats), the city is home to a number of powerful merchant houses such as the Irilsons, the Dubois, the Pendarme, and others. While there is a weak feudal king nominally in control of the nation, it is really these merchant princes who rule in truth.

The column enters the city and heds through the North Quarter, where many wealthy citizens live, to the Pendarme residence. There Morgrim heads inside with an aged councillor filling him in on events while he has been gone, Karai quickly following; Burl is led to his quarters by a guard where he is given a fresh change of clothes and new bandages - the injuries are starting to heal up quite well now. Then a message arrives from Karai:

Burl,
When you are ready, come down to the main hall. I shall then take you to meet Tewlcroghen.

- Karai

Burl surmises that Tewlcroghen must be the patron Karai has in mind, and sets off to find the main hall.

* * *

There is confusion for a few moments as Melisande and Meg'anna stare at each other; Melisande thinking for a moment that the druidess is an ogress, while the mute Meg'anna tries to convince the sorceress that she's not there to harm her. As things calm down a little, Melisande realises the druidess is mute.

However, before anything else can happen, a dreadspawn wanders out of the trees along the path. Both Meg'anna and Melisande know what they are; Meg'anna has heard of them vaguley, while Melisande has read about them in texts while studying as a Manipulator. They originated during the Dread March, a huge army of undead and horrors gathered together by a might necromancer about a hundred years ago; some rumours say he Manipulated the dreadspawn to use as cannon fodder, others say they were created as a pact between the necromancer and the shade of the Elder god Hashrukk (the Elder Gods were the original gods, defeated by the Younger Gods about a thousand years ago after the mortals locked the secret of the Elders power away - though they remained mighty beings).

Either way, Melisande knew they had remarkable qualities of regenerative healing; the best way to describe their appearance might be as small ogres, between five and six feet tall, hunched things with large lower jaws and small beady eyes. This one was carrying a blade more akin to a cleaver in one hand, wearing only a loincloth and a bandolier; when it saw the pair it stopped for a moment then charged Meg'anna.

She set her spear to recieve the charge, but there was no need; Melisande acted faster, raising her shortspear and using her natural ability as an aasimar to make light shine from it. This display of magic sent the superstitious and primitive dreadspawn running back into the trees in fear.

Melisande tries to sound savvy afterwards, talking about the technical properties of their fast healing, but in truth its the first time she's ever seen one other than in a sketchbook. Thinking on that, she decides she had better do a sketch herself now; then she realises that since she has a journal and pencils, the mute Meg'anna might be able to communicate to her in writing.

* * *

In the camp of Lord Colchis, Sebastion listened to the tales of the other Blood Ravens about what they were to face, asking tentatively about fleshtearers and dreadspawn. Jarrus, one of the mercs, tells him the rumours about dreadspawn - how some say they were created from a pact with the shade of Hashrukk - and also that they apparently heal very fast, so it's necessary to finish them off quickly before they get back up again. Agrus speaks in quiet horror about fleshtearers, about how they are basically little more than psychotic vessels of pure rage designed for killing. Seb looks at Argus's Manipulated horse, and wonders how the man can be so attached to an animal that has been fleshtwisted while so disgusted at another of the Manipulators creations.

The next morning he understands. The troops are forming up; the Carthagian foot troops all wearing heavy armours - banded mail, splint mail or half-plate - apart from the more lightly armed scouts. The Blood Ravens have formed up by some scouts when Deacon Naerban approaches and calls the fleshtearer to him, which comes loping through the camp as warriors scurry to get out of its way. Some nine feet tall, leaning forwards and muzzled mouth dripping with salivam the furred things claws are like sabres. The previous night Seb had asked what the 'tearers were made out of; none of the others had known for sure, and he'd had a horrible thought it might be humans. This thing before him, however, radiated an unnatural, alien malice that made him understand Argus's standpoint. His steed, Korellius, might have been Manipulated but at essence it was still a horse. These things, brought to life by the Toranese Church, were something different altogether.

Naerban started preaching the praises of Toran, telling the troops just how lucky they were to have a fleshtearer by their sides this day, and how it showed the favour of Toran upon them. Seb really wasn't so sure about the 'lucky' part...

* * *

Wyshira, Kale, Kaerval and Wolf made their way over the mountainous terrain of Cryosia to Jormungand, Kaerval recounting how it was named after Ishrak's servant Jormungand, a mighty sea serpent. Seemingly having perked up again, the bard recalled a tale of how, when Cryosia was still ruled by a single Grand Cryomancer rather than the High Council of Twelve, the ruler had become suspicious of the Church of Ishrak and began to oppress them. In anger at this, Ishrak sent Jormungand, and one day when the cryomancer was walking the docks he was eaten by the great serpent.

"There was such trouble after that event that from then on the cryomancers resolved to be ruled by the wisdom of twelve rather than the potential blindness of one, and the Church of Ishrak was never troubled by the mages again."

Jormungand itself is built on an area of flat land protruding from the mountainous coastline. Dominated by the Night Tower, a huge obsidian tower rising from the cryomancers compound, and the cathedral of Ishrak out on a peninsula that also acts as a lighthouse for the docks, it's a packed city of narrow streets and tall houses. The docks bustled with activity as the four wandered along them, Wolf reiterating his warnings not to get lost or end up in a fight (and above all not to annoy cryomancers, several of whom were wandering the docks in their blue robes at the time, talking to merchants), they split up, Wolf heading off to see what he could to about a ship south and arranging work. As he headed off, Kale saw him jam a small piece of paper into a notch in a wooden post nearby; the mercenary watched carefully to se who might pick it up, assuming this was part of the trade of being a mercenary - learning how to contact people.

Meanwhile Kale, Wyshira and Kaerval decide what to do next. Wyshira is in favour of a meal first although she does also want to visit the cathedral, and they agree they need some supplies too.

* * *

Sandslipper listens to the gnoll shamans words carefully, interpreting that the 'shimmering eyes of light' he mentions must mean Fireball; but she's unable to work out any more than this from the mystic's words. She shows him the package Fireball gave her, to see what he would make of it; immediately the gnolls psionic tattooes start actually moving, the eagles flapping their wings and the bolts of lightning arcing around as he gets quite fraught, telling her to put it away because "Shadow-weavers walk the threads of the life-web, searching, watching..."

Then he narrows his eyes, and tells her to listen. There, on the breeze, an insane, faint whispering can be heard getting closer. From what she can make out of it, Sandslipper realises something is searching for her - with intention to kill her and take the package. It gets louder and louder and then the shadows nearby coalesce into a large, ebony black arachnid with a row of glittering red eyes and two alarmingly human-like arms underneath its head. The gnoll barks at Sandslipper to leave as he draws a greatsword and begins to manifest psionic powers; she bursts away as the spider tries to get round the gnoll, but the shaman blocks it. Taking a swipe with his blade he misses, hitting a tree instead - and to Sandslippers surprise smashes the trunk into splinters, felling it.

Wasting no more time, Sandslipper runs as fast and as far as she can, manifesting skate to put as much distance as she can between them. She runs until finally fatigue takes her, and she can do nothing else but fall asleep on the road.

More of the arachnids appear round the shaman, demanding to know where Sandslipper went, but he resists their mental commands even though he knows he is running out of energy. The swarm closes in on him...

The following morning, Sandslipper woke most uncomfortably, picking herself up on the road. At least it was light now, and the shadows no longer seemed as menacing as they had when she had been racing through the darkness the previous night...