[IC] Paths of Legend - To Rule in Hell

300 years ago the Great Dragon came, bringing all of the peoples to this realm - humans, dwarves, elves, halflings, goblinoids, and many, many others.

The Creatures of Madness were here first and the people fought against them to claim this realm as their own. Many died. Many were lost. But, in the end, the twisted nightmare creatures were driven underground.

Now, the human tribes of Trandar, Narsven, and Larent seek to divide the land among themselves and create new homelands, far from the lands of their birth. The cities of the mad ones still stand, however, hiding many strange creatures and stranger secrets.

Into this time of danger and opportunity comes the Hellbound, a company of mercenaries founded by the enigmatic Black Dragon Knight, whose armor is rumored to be forged from the skin of a black dragon and whose skill with the sword is said to be unequaled. She has no name among her followers, simply Commander, but those who have seen her face say she is the daughter of the Serpent, herself.

The Hellbound's members count mainly outcasts and exiles among their ranks and take on tasks the tribes cannot or will not sacrifice their warriors for. For a sizeable fee. One such task is clearing the abandoned cities and ruins in the Lands of Madness. The latest batch of recruits includes...

Baernoth, an elf whose ambition forced him into exile, the harshest penalty among a race that believes all life is sacred.

Moaine and his bodyguard, Carlena, he of a polite and seemingly unassuming nature, she of a troubled past.

And Narasha, once a warrior of the Tribe of Trandar, now one of the Hellbound's healers and quartermasters whose page runs errands and tends her needs.

The Commander requests the new recruits be brought to her tent. Thus Baernoth, Moaine, Calena, Narasha and her page find themselves standing alongside Lavalia, a young warrior woman whose great sword seems to be taller than she is, but with a hard cruelty in her eyes.

The Commander's voice echoes ominously within her horned helmet, "We approach the City of Ash. The Tribe of Trandar has us hired to clear out the remaining creatures and any squatters so that they can claim it as their new capital. You will form the north flanking patrol." She spreads a map across the table in her tent, a fairly crude rendering of the city. The north side of the city seems to be mostly composed of the bizarre gardens and festering pools of the creatures of madness. "The main company will be scouting the ruling quarters at the city's heart. You are to report back here, in the main square, in two days. Any loot you find is yours to keep, minus the company's usual 20%. Any questions?

Narasha stands with the weight of her armour resting on her one good leg, if it can even be called that at this point. Without her helm and under hair beginning to grey, the expression on her scarred face is hard, with slashed lips that look like they have never smiled in the entire history of this new world. The white of a wolf-pelt cloak cascades over her stiff-backed shoulders, themselves protected by nicked metal spaulders shaped like the head of that selfsame animal.

"What if we meet significant resistance... Commander?"

The last word has to be torn from her throat, and from her expression it goes sharp and painful across the tongue.

Distasteful.


OOC: What does Narasha know about the creatures of madness in general, Kiraya? What do they look like? How dangerous are they?

OOC: In strict D&D terms, oozes and slimes and such are the most common creatures of madness, along with orcs - humans who were twisted and corrupted into foot soldiers for their aberrant overlords. Beyond that, the creatures of madness were often unique combinations of tentacles, claws, eyes, and other appendages. The only creatures encountered more than once during the war were umber hulks, intellect devourers, mind flayers, thought eaters, and beholders.

The blond elf known as Baernoth smiles. It is a snake's smile, charming but dangerous and calculating. Green eyes scan the tent but focus most on the people, gauging, seeking strength and weakness, clinks in armor.

Baernoth wears his leather armor like one who is accustomed to its use, moving with a grace that sometimes amazes the other races. Every motion is measured, every move of his scarlet cloak intentional. The exquisite longbow is slung over a shoulder like it belongs there, drawing attention away from the bulging backpack, quivers of arrows and a plain shortsword.

"Of course, Lady Commander," the elf almost whispers, his voice smooth and pleasant.

Moaine surveys the small group which has gathered here. His stare is not menacing, but you are all experienced enough to know that it is a calculating one, measuring each one of you against some unknown, internal set of criteria. Moaine is clad in simple, yet clean, and well-cared-for black robes. He has a staff that he carries like a walking stick, and he is wearing a backpack, although he looks somewhat uncomfortable and annoyed to be doing so.

Moaine is flanked by a woman clad in platemail armor, carrying a shield in her left hand, and wearing a longsword on her left hip. She too, carries a backpack, along with a shortbow and quiver, all slung onto her back, but if it is inconvenient, she doesn't show it. She is pale-skinned, lithe, and comely, although her features are peppered with tiny scars and wrinkle lines, suggesting that she leads a rough existence. Her demeanor is stern and glowering, and you surmise that her beauty is likely matched by her prowess in melee. Her eyes never cease their movement, always watching, wary, and alert.

"Carlena and I are at your service, as always, commander." Moaine says simply, with a polite bow.

Lavalia is silent, her gaze meeting Carlena's for a moment as each assesses the other's strength, a moment of eye contact all that is needed to begin a potential rivalry.

The Commander answers Narasha's question with a hint of amusement in her voice, "We are Hellbound. Kill or be killed and reap the rewards either way." The company's motto had become familiar to those gathered. It was a rallying cry repeated often and with enthusiasm. Its not that the company was reckless. Far from it. But the recruits had noted a distinct lack of fear regarding the topic of death and what comes after among the more senior members.

OOC: You now have a few hours before nightfall. The company heads out to the City of Ash at first light. You can explore the camp, pick up some last minute supplies, talk to each other or any NPCs floating around.

The older woman's mouth contracts, as if she just tasted something sour. "As you say."

A tired, weary sigh, a resettling of her crushing weight, and then a gauntleted hand gestures to the cheap vellum sprawled upon the table: "Our wizard will make a copy of your map." And only an arched aristocratic eyebrow, at the end, hints that this might - just possibly - be more than a statement of absolutes.

Is that alright with you, Commander?



OOC: Does Narasha know if the group can requisition some food and healing supplies by default/on their own or would they need the Commander's/somebody else's permission to do that, Kiraya?

Satisfied that the Commander's instructions were clear to him and the others, Baernoth does not wait for the wizard to copy the map. Instead, he bows politely to the Commander, flashes a smile, and turns around to leave the tent. "I'm off to the supply tent. Come along if you guys are in for some shopping, too."

Narasha said:

A tired, weary sigh, a resettling of her crushing weight, and then a gauntleted hand gestures to the cheap vellum sprawled upon the table: "Our wizard will make a copy of your map." And only an arched aristocratic eyebrow, at the end, hints that this might - just possibly - be more than a statement of absolutes.

Click to expand...

Moaine eyes Narasha with a quizzical look. "There are two of us in this group that can touch The Weave, but since our flighty little friend can't seem to stay still long enough, I am assuming that you mean me? Very well, I can copy the map. It will take the better part of two hours, if you want it done right. I'm out of ink, so I will need to buy some..."

Moaine bows to the commander, and asks, "Might I have the use of your table, once I am ready to copy, m'lady?"

Turning his attention back to Narasha, Moaine adds: "I will buy the ink and quill; I have need of them anyway. But with all due respect, since you have demanded this of me, I expect you to provide the vellum."