[The Mythar Resistance] On The Trail

I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't been there myself. It was on the fields of Rios, a great battle was to occur between our forces and the barbarians of the north but it was never to be. As our men stood restlessly awaiting the call to battle, to plunge into the forest and route the savages, the air crackled with energy, at first murmurs spread that it was the witchery of the barbarians but when the first rift opened, pouring out a gray light which seemed to sap the color from everything it touched, we know otherwise. At first there was only one, but as it grew larger it seemed to splinter into many more, until the entire land seemed drenched in that nullifying gray. When they started coming out, we didn't know what to do. But we were hardened men, we'd been through war and seen many of the savageries, but we weren't ready for what came next. One of the largest ones, a hulking humanoid creature looking like it was spun from stone and crystal, bellowed forth a mind-bending shout which echoed in our minds, I resisted the pulsing headache which swam through my head but others spun wildly, confused and bewildered. Then it was chaos, our men fell to each others swords. I could barely tell friend from foe, and what I could tell seemed to change every moment.

That was the first reported encounter with the Mythar. I'm certain they had been here before, they knew too much, how we lived, how our militaries were structured, where our major places of trade were. That first year we thought we had a real chance. We gathered our forces, old enmities were forgotten, we fought side by side with the shamanic people of the north, the mystics of the east, the hunters of the Iron Wastes. We fought as a whole and fell as one when the time came.

Then the darker days began.

---Victus Capita, a human soldier in the Agorian army, start of the Mythar Conflict, 3 B.R. (B.R. denotes Before Reign)

You all sit upon the edge of the makeshift stage that Osric hobbled together upon your arrival, before a massive bonfire, tired from your performance this evening, a performance which went off without a hitch, which you feel was one of your greatest. The energy of the townsfolk however keeps your spirits high, a pair of drummers play a driving beat of layered rhythms to which many of the people dance, flailing arms and stomping feet creating other polyrhythm. Children chase each other around, playing a sort of tag where the one who is it is playing the role of a Mythar hunter and the others are hoping to avoid his dreadful touch. It is rare to see all of this revelry and it brings thoughts of freer times.

Uiim's gaze rests solidly upon the playing children; those that have been with the group the longest can tell by the set of his mouth and the corners of his eyes that he is on the verge of a smile. His gaze follows the children as they run and cavort, passing by the bonfire. Once there, his eyes rest on the crackling flames and it seems that the fire causes him to recall something and the traces of the smile vanish like dew before the morning sun.

The old gnome sighs inwardly and then looks to the group around him; a true smile comes to his lips and he nods slightly, as if in approval. "You should each be pleased with yourselves", Uiim says, his words measured and paced perfectly. "For this night we have transcended - while we had a great performance, aye, we did something more. We brought a spark of joy - and moreso hope - to these good and hopeless folk. And that-" Uiim drops down from the stage lithely, "-deserves a bit of celebration by my mind."

The gnome walks over to his personal wagon, entering in and returning mere moments later. Under his thin, but corded arms are two small casks; there is no doubt in anyone's mind what rests within. Uiim walks up and sets them down where he was sitting just moments ago. He looks again to the group, "I've been saving these for a special occasion, and I can think of one no better than this. Drink up, my friends! To a job done even better than we each can know!"

With a bit of his performer's flare, Uiim then produces the tap and dramatically taps the first of the two kegs, laughing...

*Kromgron gives a broad smile at Uiim's statement, and takes out his mug with one hand, using a rag to wipe off some of the oil he used during his performances off of his face with the other.*

"You always treat us so well," the dwarf says, the beaded braids of his beard clacking as he draws himself a mug. "To Hope!" Kromgron raises his mug in a toast, the arms that raised two of the biggest miners in town shining in the torchlight.

Olivia sits beside the others, smiling. The sounds of the celebration they brought to this gloomy town fill her ears and bring her joy. On her legs, Shade seems just as content as she is. The cat is indeed purring loudly as her mistress pets her. She speaks slowly and softly as her blank stare seems to gaze into the night. "These sounds ... the laughter, the cries of joy, the rhythm of the dance ... these bring me to old times, happier, simpler times. How I wished these times would last forever. But Fate would not have it this way. Yet, I'm not bitter, for I'm with you, friends, and we bring happiness. Happiness that is portent to a brighter future, or so I hope."

After hearing Uiim's invitation to celebration and the following sound of the tap, Olivia's head turns towards the others. "Now, would one of you be so kind to bring me a small portion of master Uiim's fine brew. I do not wish to cloud my mind but I will at least honour it by tasting some."

Nassitch (male Kobold)

Almost immediately after the cask was tapped, a large shephard dog trotted into the firelight and among the performers. Pointed ears and a coat of blacks, browns and greys, Kimble was pet of Nassitch, the assistant animal handler and scout for the troupe. His ears were alert and his tail was wagging.

It looked at the cask, then at Uiim with a tilt of his head . . . then back to the cask.

A second later, Nassitch himself hurried into the area. Nassitch was a kobold of russet brown fur, though most of it was covered by a heavy green cloak that he wore almost always. He seemed somewhat out of breath, and a grin hinted at the corners of his mouth.

"Kimble! Those boys weren't done playing at being knights yet. Why'd you run off like that?" Nassitch asked the dog. He then noticed where he was.

"Oh, hi, Uiim, Kromgron . . . Olivia. What's going on?" Nassitch asked. He looked around, slightly embarrassed that he was so distracted that he didn't even seen anyone there.

Uiim chuckles, and then pours a mug for Nassitch and then a small bowl for Kimble. He hands the mug to the kobold and then sets the bowl down for the dog. He ruffles the shephard's head, saying, "Ah, Kimble - I've ne'er known a dog that could hold his drink as well as you." The old gnome's eyes smile and he then nods to Nassitch, "I was about to fetch you, my friend. This is for a night's job well done. Enjoy! Drink up!"

Osric pops his head out from under the stage. "That extra brace'll take care of the trouble spot at the rear of the stage, Uiim," he says. "Can't quite tell what's ma- Oh ho, what's this?" He spots Uiim bringing out the kegs and a broad smile covers his face. Some grass and few stray twigs and leaves are helplessly sucked into the maelstrom of hair atop his head as he quickly pulls himself out from under the stage and hops up, brushing off his clothes. "Had a feeling there'd be some celebration tonight," he says, reaching into a deep pocket and pulling out a small cup. "If any show deserves it, tonight's sure does."

He waits patiently for Uiim to tap the keg, then heeds Olivia's request. "Here you are, ma'am," he says, putting the cup into her hands. He gives Shade a quick skritch between the ears. "Sorry, kitty, none for you tonight."

Uiim pours wine for those that ask it, and begins chatting with everyone present. He speaks mostly of the wonderful performances and jobs that everyone did this night, as well as the reaction of those that came...