The Defenders of Tronus - The Birth of Heroes (Updated 2/28/04)

The Defenders of Tronus – A Brief History:



It was here in the center of Avrick, believed by most to be the wealthiest continent in all of Arkyst due to the vast number of gold mines, that our story begins. Four brave and courageous adventures were given a large section of land by the King of Redbrook to commend their tireless efforts to make the world a better place. This area was also the site of a natural wonder, known as the arch of Tronus. An amazing structure of polished white stone, spiraled with runes that towers nearly thirty feet above the lavish green grass below.

Only a few miles from the arch, the adventures soon broke ground on a great keep that they would use as an outpost on the edge of the open-lands. The King Aldrian of Redbrook was also looking forward to the prospect of safer trade routes between his kingdom and the Dwarves of Goldborough to the North. In fact, to help facilitate this process, he decided to make a decree that any trading performed within a ten mile radius of the Arch of Tronus would be considered tax free.

Within months entrepreneurial merchants were moving to the arch and thus Tronus was formed. The four adventurers became known as the Defenders of Tronus as they continued to protect the Kingdom of Redbrook while funding their expeditions with a portion of the profits from the city.

After nearly 15 years of serving as the Defenders of Tronus, the original four adventures found that they were spending more time engaged in city affairs and building strategic alliances with foreign powers. Around this time a large number of criminals started plaguing the city due to it’s increased prosperity. The Defenders now finding themselves out of practice in dealing with such matters, met a handful of minor defeats before losing their most skilled fighter, Cendron Steelheart.

The vacancy was filled with a roaming adventurer hailing from the elven lands of Silverpine. Evrynn Valkkor proved critical in ridding the, now bustling, city of thieves and power-hungry villains. Yet, the original Defenders were never able to overcome the loss of their friend. In fact, after the city was once again in order, they decided to retire to positions within the city, and assigned Evrynn as the new leader of the Defenders.

Evrynn continued as the leader of the Defenders of Tronus for close to ten years. It was a dark and stormy night when Evrynn awoke to find the notorious Frest Shadowstep lurking above him. Frest, having just assassinated the other Defenders was about to seal the deal. However, Evrynn’s strength and cunning were underestimated as the Hexblade used his fury of spells and the blade that he kept under his pillow to stave the efforts of the assassin.

Evrynn returned with Frest as his captive to the nearby city of Tronus where he was put on trial for his heinous actions. Frest did not attempt to deny the accusation and the undeniable proof of his actions, and merely indicated that he was working the will of his patron deity, Nightfall. Before sunrise the trial was over and at dawn the limp body of Frest Shadowstep could be found hanging from the Arch of Tronus.

The city deeply mourned their loss and the original Defenders stepped forward to proclaim that they would not haphazardly replace the team. Duke Kevrin, the city’s leader organized local and foreign benefactors to provide additional resources and financial support. Professor Ceydrul, the dean of the College of Arcanum used his students to build a tower within the walls of the city; and Helow Brattlebuck, the head of the city guard hand picked new recruits to be known as the Defenders of Tronus.

The entire process extended across the better part of five years, during which time the city employed a variety of mercenaries and bounty hunters to fill the void. Evrynn was granted the title of Lord and was given the old keep of the Defenders in return for his years of loyal service. He also agreed to act as council for the new group, whenever it actually came to be formed.

Seems like a great home-brewed setting for a campaign!
Looking forward to reading what troubles plague the newest group of Defenders.

Sorry for the double post...stupid wireless connection keeps cutting in and out!

As for the campaign world, it is a lot of work and I thank my friends for lots of help! There is still much more to do, but I'm hoping to see it evolve as the campaign goes.

We had our first session last Sunday, but it was called early due to massive amounts of snow. My next post will introduce the heroes and tell of their first encounter. It just has such a different feel than most campaigns I run, and I can't wait to share the story.

And that, my friend, is why you have an admin who hangs out in the story hour forum. Double post deleted -- and good start to the tale.

The Defenders of Tronus – Those Chosen to Protect:

The crowd roared as four bold heroes walked through the front gates of the city, marking the beginning of a new age. The Defenders of Tronus had been reborn and everyone turned out to celebrate the return of real heroes to the continent of Avrick.

Duke Kevrin headed the parade to a podium that had been assembled directly under the great arch from which the city derived it’s name. Kevrin, the beloved leader of Tronus silenced the onlookers as he began to speak, “My friends, my neighbors! Today I bring you something that this city has been without for far too long. Today I bring you the new Defenders of Tronus…a force in mind, body, and spirit that will once again complete this town, this nation, and this world we live in.”

“Professor Ceydrul, Captain Helow and I have worked closely with local hero Evrynn Valkkor..”

The speech was suddenly broken by applause from the thousand of onlookers. After a long moment, Duke Kevrin began again.

“First we present Twizle Spindlewood, the gnomish curator of Tronus’ own Museum of Art and Relics. For two years he has served our city well, helping to teach our children and to display the treasures of our great city.

To expand on his knowledge of geography and magical treasures, we choose Rayna Fynley. Rayna recently graduated at the top of her class at the University Arcanus. Her mastery of mystical energies and her devotion to Vaux, the patron of magic allows this Mystic Theurge an unparalleled flexibility of spell-power.

Next I present to you Azerot, follower of the deity of Elemental Forces, Kabod. Azerot and his gnomish sidekick Cinder represent the Order of Smoke and have proven their worth in defending the city and helping the poor through generous donations.

Finally this hulking brute to my right is Storm. He has been in Tronus for little over a month and his name has been the talk of the town. This half-Ogre Magi, half-Human hulk of muscle proudly displays his draconic heritage while snuffing out evil like a smoldering torch.”

After the speech was over, the Defenders were greeted by various benefactors that helped contribute the forming and supplying of the new team. They met Jorg Bonesnapper, representing the Black Fist Orc Clan from the openlands, Remaire Tellows, a councilman of Jorbash to the south, and Helsa Quintal, the Sultan of Kaldrid’s daughter. Among the most notable were Prince Geldric Goldbeard from Goldborough who presented each member with 1,000 gold each printed with their face on it and finally the foreign Emperor Tatsuma Kashiro. Tatsuma was well known for his love of Tronus and many say that he spends more time within it’s walls than on his own continent of Ieroden.
Before the ceremony was over Tatsuma called the attention of the Defenders, “I pre-zent you wich a blade that represent my love for your cit-y.”

As he drew a fabulous light blue blade from it’s scabbard he continued, “Her name is Kao and she is as beaut-iful as she is deadly.”

Storm graciously accepted the katana on behalf of the team and continued to make the Emperor’s company while the others mingled with the crowds in the after-party that lasted well into the night.

The Defenders of Tronus – The Adventure Begins:

It had been nearly two weeks since the ceremony and the Defenders anxiously awaited their first call to battle. While Twizle was working on a new ballad for his upcoming musical, some of the other members decided that they could use some fresh air.

Azerot sat on a freshly chopped log while Storm continued to knock down more trees with his bare hands. “I don’t think we need any more wood Storm,” began Azerot.

Storm paused for a moment, contemplating how to enlighten his friend as to the value of hard work and it’s benefits to both the mind and body. Before he could speak however, the sounds of screaming women and children filled the air. By the time Azerot could grab his morningstar, Rayna and Twizle came bursting through the front door of the Defender’s Tower.

The team began dashing through the streets towards the North gate where the air was filled with the sounds of commotion. Hordes of people were running in every direction, children were getting trampled and the yelling didn’t stop. As the Defender’s marched forward with their weapons drawn, they were suddenly confronted with…the sound of music?

Rayna tilted her head and looked at the others in disbelief. The women were actually swooning, not crying in horror. Yet there was a crime in progress! As the infamous bard Melcher Clef sung his exotic melody and swung those legendary hips, eight of his scantily-clad dancing girls were graciously removing the belongings of the onlookers. Behind the entourage of bumping and grinding dancers was Melcher’s sidekick Rampart, the massive Minotaur trained in mass combat, cleaning the blood of several of the city guards off of his great axe.

Melcher had been a wanted man in the Kingdom of Redbrook for some time. If the rumors were true, it was due to a private performance staring both Melcher and the Queen. Yet the Queen was not Melcher’s only fan. Thousands of women throughout the countryside adored him and his “bad-boy” persona. Wanted posters would be torn down by teenage girls with the hopes that he may someday come to their town and would sign it in person.

The Defenders grimaced in disgust as Melcher took out his quill and began signing his own wanted posters and exposed flesh of his adoring fans. Storm had enough of the gratuitous display and called out the villainous trash that littered his city’s streets. “Enough!”

As if waiting for that very cue, the dancing girls dropped their fistfuls of jewels and in a dizzying display of cartwheels and back flips charged the giant blue monster. These girls were obviously trained as unarmed fighters in addition to belly dancing, but they were still no match for Storm’s might. He snatched the first one from the air before she could land her flip and hurtled her into the next while using his free arm to close-line a third.

The other five dancers surrounded Azerot and his companion Cinder. Azerot was pulling his hits as to not kill the girls, but they kept bumping him with hips, elbows, thighs and bosoms. “I will not be waylaid by harlots,” he cried as the barrage of sultry attacks continued.

Meanwhile Rayna moved up to target Melcher with a Touch of Idiocy spell. It wasn’t until Twizle pulled forth his horn of sounding (commonly used to direct his plays and musicals during practice) and began singing. He sang his own tune suggesting that the crowd get sexy with Melcher and tear off all his clothing. Needing little encouragement, the hordes of women stripped every garment from his body. When he finally was able to stand back up, he found himself only to be wearing a wide array of lipsticks and quickly moved the scroll he was holding to cover his nakedness.

As the dazed surveyed the situation, he knew that he had been defeated! Rampart was caught firmly in Storm’s grasp as the half-Ogre Magi continued his attempts to break one of the Minotaur’s horns off while almost half of the dancing girls lay unconscious.

With a wide smile, Rayna moved forward to swipe the scroll from Melcher’s grasp. As she unfurled it, she found that it was full of minute black beads and contained no writing. While trying to balance the paper as to not spill the beads, it formed a black featureless face that began to rise an inch or so into the air. “Melcher and Rampart are but pawns in my game,” it spoke in an eerie and breathy voice.

“600 hundred rats containing my own special form of the plague currently lie dormant in the city’s sewers. By my calculations, if they were to be released, and you were to enlist the aid of all of available clerics on the continent of Avrick, you would lose nearly one third of the population of Tronus! Unless you are willing to gamble with the lives of those that you are charged to protect…you must bring back the Eye of Zorm within one week.”

The face paused and the group gathered closer to shelter the view from the surrounding populous.

“And if I should happen to find that either Melcher or Rampart are killed, then I will release the rats immediately!”

With that, the face fell back down to the paper as the beads began spilling off the page. Storm broke his hold on the Minotaur and gave them all a sharp look that they had best leave the city quickly, or they would all be finding out what would happen if Melcher or Rampart were found dead.

Once the streets had been cleared Azerot turned to the others and with a puzzled look asked, “What is the Eye of Zorm?”

Good start!
Very much looking forward to what happens next.

Bump.. or should I say...

TWANG!

The Defenders of Tronus – vs. the Library:

There was no time to waste, since one week in Arkyst meant six days. Before the team even made it back to their tower, Twizle had headed off to the library to do some research on the Eye of Zorm. Yet two hours later when he returned, he was far from pleased with the results of his findings.

“I searched through a hundred books or more. It seems that someone has else already done some research on Zorm.”

Twizle held up two books that had large sections of pages torn out of them. He continued, “All I was able to determine from the remains of these books is that Zorm was a powerful Lich that had tried to amass an undead army larger than any force in all of Arkyst.”

“That just isn’t enough to go on! What kind of maniac would send us on a quest for an item that can’t be found?” Demanded Azerot in exasperation.

“Oh, that would be the talking scroll.” Replied Azerot’s companion Cinder.

All of the eyes in the room fell upon the gnomish cohort who as always was carrying a large lantern.

“It was a rhetorical question, or is that beyond your comprehension small one?” Asked Storm in a far from amused manner.

“I’m a gnome,” was Cinder’s answer in his gravelly and weasel-like voice.

“That does us a lot of good,” mumbled Storm with a roll of his eyes.

“Focus people, focus!” Piped in Twizle with one hand on his Horn of Sounding to get louder if he had to.

The whole team spent the rest of the day and much of the night trying to find any clues that they may be able to piece together to unlock the mystery. In the morning they regrouped and compared findings.

Twizle, loving to hear his own voice picked up the jumble of notes and dramatically addressed his teammates. “What we know by Twizle Spindlewood.”

“Get on with it bard!”

“Well, it appears that 300 years ago, Zorm, a powerful lich, was amassing the largest army of undead that Arkyst has ever seen. That is until a force of Trelar’s finest paladins attacked Zorm’s keep and managed to escape with the lich’s most powerful weapon, his own eye! He had removed his eye prior to becoming a lich, and transformed it into a powerful unholy artifact by which to enhance his control over his undead servants. The paladin who managed to capture the eye was named Mendegon the Devout.”

“But everything about Mendegon from that point on has been removed,” Azerot quickly reminded them.

“Everything about Mendegon may be gone, but it would take a woman’s touch to research his betrothed, Annadielle Trueheart.” Rayna stood up to meet the groups gaze, “ It says here in The History of Griffholme and Surrounding Estates that Annadielle waited years for he beloved Mendegon to return from his quest. Although he never returned, he had sent her a key of great beauty covered in rubies and diamonds as a token of his love. It goes on to tell that she eventually married another man and their bloodline only survived two more generations. Yet, there is mention that the key was sold when the wealth of Estate liquidated.”

“That would mean that she is buried near the Griffholme Mountains. It would take us all the time that we have just to get there,” chimed Twizle.

“I hate to say this, but I think we’re going to have to talk to that creepy elf,” sighed Storm.

The team had briefly encountered the former Defender, Evrynn Valkkor, during their induction ceremony. He was tall and thin with jet-black hair that was the epitome of Silverpine elves. His most notable feature was his pure white bangs that framed his face and drastically contrasted with the rest of his hair.

For the most part, the new Defenders’ view of the elf could be summarized best through one of Cinder’s insightful comments, “he’s weird.”

The Defenders of Tronus – Mendegon’s Letter:

The party marched up the neglected and overgrown path towards the Keep of the old Defenders. The once extravagant elegance of this massive structure was evident despite the blanket of vines and the years of neglect.

Azerot spoke to the unsettled group, primarily to break the eerie silence. “They say that the ghosts of the last group of Defender’s still haunt this place. Evrynn and his lone servant are the only ones to enter the Keep since that gruesome night.”

Storm puffed up his chest and heaved the large brass boars-head shaped knocker. As it clanged against the 10-foot wide solid oak door he matter-of-factly stated, “I don’t care if Zorm himself is in there, we’re going in.”

After several long minutes the oversized door opened slowly with a long droning creek. Barely noticeable in the shadow from the door was a petite young woman with dark black hair pulled up into buns. She wore a dress of fine red silk patterned in white flowers with sleeves longer than her arms. Upon seeing who it was at the front doorstep, she bowed and invited them in.

“Greet-ings Defenders. I am Lai, humble servant of Lord Evrynn. If you wait here I will summon the master.”

Storm quickly noted that her accent and skin tone marked her as a native to the continent of Inroden, where he himself was born. Meanwhile, the others looked around the lavish sitting room where Lai had left them. They all stared about at the spotless room; the contrast to the outside of the Keep was unreal. Rayna took to walking around and gazing at each of the paintings that surrounded the fireplace in the center of the wall. There were a few that captured the entire group of the old Defenders, but most were of Evrynn and powerful wizards, wealthy nobles, and legendary rulers.

As more time passed, the group’s interest soon changed to a boredom and then annoyance. The only one who didn’t seem to notice was Cinder, who was happily warming himself by the fire. Twizle was even running out of songs to hum, and they didn’t have the time to waste.

Storm stood up quickly, he had enough, and he would wait no longer! At that precise moment the tall impassive elf came strolling around the corner. He appeared featureless but a sense of arrogance could be felt in his presence. As if amidst a windstorm, his cape fluttered about him with great conviction. After standing in the doorway for a moment or so longer than necessary, he mumbled a word, his cape dropped to his sides lifeless, and he strode forward.

“Ah, Defenders. So glad that you could venture out this way.”

“We’re here to ask what you know about the situation that is going on in town. We don’t have time for senseless prattle,” demand Storm in a harsh tone.

Taken slightly aback, Evrynn straightened his collar and asked, “I’m afraid that I know of the situation in town. Could you elaborate?”

Azerot attempted to quickly fill in the details as Evrynn lead them through three or four rooms towards a courtyard at the center of the Keep. Evrynn’s eyes lit up when Azerot mentioned that they were looking for the final resting of Mendegon “the Devout.” The heroes were excited to hear what the elf knew so they could get on with the quest; however, Evrynn wasn’t so quick with his words.

The group stopped as Evrynn strolled out into the courtyard where he proceeded to place his hand on a sphere similar to a crystal ball held atop a pedestal roughly 4 feet off the ground. After closing his eyes and focusing for a moment, the courtyard began to take on the look, feel and smell of an arena. A well-traveled adventurer would have recognized it as the arena of the far off desert city of Tilcher.

Evrynn turned in the direction of the party and made them an offer, “This courtyard was created for the original Defenders to train in, and therefore you may not be killed while you are in it. Once you have proven you are capable of the task that lies before, I will tell you what I know.”

“Deal,” agreed Storm before the others had time to talk it over.

Without hesitation Evrynn drew his sword in one hand while placing a Hexblade curse on Storm as he charged forward. However, despite all of the training, experience, and magical trinkets Evrynn had collected during his 15 years as a Defender, he wasn’t prepared for what happened next. With incredible timing and patience, Storm snatched Evrynn out of his charge and held him in the air with one hand.

Evrynn tried to cast and he tried to break free, but there was nothing he could do. Cinder took this time to make the scenery more enjoyable, a fiery landscape, while the other Defenders were ready to fight, but the fight never came. After a minute of watching the elf struggle, Storm hefted Evrynn to the threshold of the courtyard. He coldly and sharply parlayed, “You can die here! Now tell us what we need to know!”

Moments later they were all heading into Evrynn’s personal study. Besides a quill and some parchment, there wasn’t an item in the room that wasn’t encased in glass. The elf marched directly to the center bookcase and removed a key from the top shelf. After opening the casing he spoke, “Not only do I have the key of Annadielle Trueheart, I know how to open it.”

With that he twisted the key in an obscure fashion and it opened to reveal a faded note. Rayna delicately drew the letter from the key and read it’s contents aloud.

Dearest Annadielle,

It has been two long years since I have been at your side. You are well aware why I was unable to return and I fear that things have only become worse. The dead follow my every step and grow closer by the day.

My company is near depleted; only Loasaur and myself remain. We plan to leave at dawn for the whitest peak in the Dragonclaw Mountains. There within the mountain shrine to Trelar I will seal myself in a tomb, and as the life escapes my body, only then will the Eye of Zorm rest.

When your time has come, I ask that you come and join me in the glowing salvation of Trelar. I have enclosed the key to the tomb and Loasaur will allow only you to join me in my final rest.

May my love and protection always shield you from the foulness of this land,

Mendegon

Evrynn spoke as soon as Rayna had finished the letter. “The Dragonclaw Mountains are just over a days travel to the south east by horse.”

“I don’t fit on horses,” interjected Storm.

“Well then, I offer you the use of my magic carriage,” the elf continued. “It moves even faster than a horse and can carry your entire group to the base of the mountains in less than one day. Just be very careful with it, it is a rare and valuable item.”

Evrynn lead the group to a set of stables within the Keep. Now barren of any hay or feed, the stables were practically empty except for a large tarp covered object. The elf pulled back the black and dusty tarp to reveal an extravagant looking carriage with a driver’s seat for two, a seats off the back for two, and enough room inside for a tight fit of six. The most amazing part was that the reins attached to the driver’s seat protruded out into thin air where two horses should be. In place of the horses were two sets of bit and bridles that hovered in mid-air.

“The creatures that pull this cart are constructs of force,” explained Evrynn. “Although they are not inherently much faster than real horses, they never tire or need feed. This is where most of your travel time is lost. They will save you nearly a quarter of a day in travel time.”

With only one or two more warnings of caution from Evrynn, the group was off. They had their first real mission, and they were going to show the world what it meant to be Defenders of Tronus.