Cydra: the Early Years

[the Jester]

This thread will be irregular, to say the least.

I'll be updating it from time to time with little bits of story from earlier in my campaign. Similar to the infamous "Defenders of Daybreak: the Early Years" SH, it prolly won't be a very complete narrative, certainly will leave out many details, likely will get a lot of the specifics at least partially wrong, and will no doubt be updated only infrequently.

That said, I'll shortly be telling the story of the first adventure in my current campaign world- the first adventure of Malford, who some of you may know from one of my other story hour threads, and of Dexter, the major religion's Jesus figure.

But first, a little background on just how the campaign began...

I had a long-running campaign world that I'd been dming since about 1981 that came to a screeching halt in 1993 when Tharizdun was awoken and ate Nature. The old campaign was set in the World of Greyhawk, but by the end it was a couple of thousand years past the GH most people play in, and there were all sorts of cataclysmic changes to the world.

When the game ended- the pcs failed in their bold attempt to wake Nature up so she could defend herself- it was largely the luck of the dice, but the pcs could have done so much more to improve their odds, given themselves reroll chances, etc. Sadly, they did not, and they all died along with everything else in the multiverse.

Or so it appeared.

It wasn't until about a decade later, real time, that the connection between my old campaign world and Cydra, the new one, became apparent. Maybe I'll get to that story eventually- I certainly hope so, it bears directly on my current game and the Story Hours in progress!

In any event, not too long after my Greyhawk game died, the players demanded another one. So I quickly sketched a map of the central island (Forinthia), decided to try monotheism instead of polytheism in a campaign, and had the players roll up characters.

Then I threw a cliche at them, gave it a twist, and the game was on, and it hasn't stopped for more than a couple of months ever since. We're playing game # 527 this coming weekend; the first one was played on October 4th, 1993. That's an average of more than one per week the whole time. And I'm happy to note that as time goes on the layers keep getting deeper and deeper, and that I'm close to realizing a campaign that lasts longer than my old one did (two more years to go!!).

Anyhow, on with the story...

 

[Welverin]

Cool, can't hardly wait!

That said, I'll shortly be telling the story of the first adventure in my current campaign world- the first adventure of Malford, who some of you may know from one of my other story hour threads, and of Dexter, the major religion's Jesus figure.

And Lester? I'd love to see what he did to deserve being blamed for everything that goes wrong.

p.s. you need to get together with wulf and teach him how to update on a semi regular basis.

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

Woohoo! Another fun thread to read!

 

[Welverin]

Wait a second! More comments that updates, who does this remind you of?

 

[the Jester]

Mynar!

The cliche was that the party of adventurers met at a bar.

The twist is how it happened.

So there was this tavern, scattered with a light afternoon's business on the 17th day of the 1st month of the year 95 of Our Lord Galador; and suddenly this wizard-looking guy stood up at the bar with a wild look in his eyes, screamed, "MYNAR!!", and cast a fireball into the room.

The ball detonated with a whoomp, incinerating a number of surprised drinkers and setting the building alight. There was a general cry and panicked farmers and merchants began rushing for the door.

Several of the survivors of the initial blast moved into action against the man, drawing weapons and rushing forward. He screamed madly and threw an orb of spinning color at a sly-looking gnome but missed; then he cast another spell and disappeared. Arrows shot through where he'd been a moment ago uselessly. The gnome and a half-elf threw mad thrusts with their blades at empty space, each wielding two weapons. The wizard became visible again as three missiles sprang from his fingers, and there were grunts and cries as the half-elf, a young lad with horrible acne and the axe-man were hit In an instant the man was down. But flames were roaring, spreading along the bar. "Let's get out of here!" cried the half-elf, and most of them made for the door.

Two of them made for the cashbox first.

Outside, smoke poured from the building. The aroma of roasting meat wafted on the smoke. Flames licked upward along one outside wall and spat out several of the windows.

"Well, that was fun," coughed one of the men who had defeated the flame-caster as he dragged the corpse of the wizard out of the tavern. "I'm Galiger Light. Pleased to meet you." He'd wielded an axe in the combat. He looked like a hard man, with a handsome but brutal face. He wore black studded leather.

"I'm Vito," said the half-elf, sheathing his longsword and shortsword. "Malford," the gnome chimed in, "the Magnificent." He was still mentally counting his share of the cashbox in his head. "Dexter Nadly," the youth with the bad face said. "Mordan Kain," said the female elven archer.

"We should find out what that was all about," said Vito.

The group agreed, and it was shortly thereafter that they met the wife- no, the widow- of the man they'd killed. She was Dinagar's widow; they never learned her name. She wanted to know what was going on herself; her husband was clearly witnessed by dozens as guilty of burning the tavern down, and he was a good man.

"A good, Galador-fearing man?" emphasized Galiger. There may have been a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Yes, of course, the widow told them, and in fact he worked for a company that itself worked for the Church. "Interesting," mused the wily gnome Malford.

Inquiries at a sage's office revealed that Mynar's an island somewhere far removed to the north- not even on any maps the characters can find. It's far away.*

Inquiries of the Church turn up only polite unhelpfulness. Soon it's plain that there's something being covered up by the righteous Church of Galador, and Galiger thinks it's time to have a talk about religion with his new compatriots. After all, he is a priest of Bleak, and if they're amenable, he'd love to cause the Galadorians some pain...


*Note that my initial conception of the infinite ocean of Cydra was that it would be a flat plane of infinite expanse and depth, although this has subsequently changed; but since that's the common man's belief that'll do for now. It's actually the inside surface of an enormous air bubble some 780,000 miles in diameter.


Our next update will have, among other things, the resolution of the Mynar mystery and the first death of a pc. The update above roughly covers the first session of this campaign world; as stated previously, I may have some of the details wrong. In any event, our party at this point consists of:

Galiger Light, cleric of Bleak 1 (CE)
Vido, half-elf ranger/mage 1/1 (CG)
Dexter Nadly, psionicist 1 (NE)
Malford the Magnificent, gnome illusionist/thief 1/1 (CN)
Mordan Kain, elf bard 1 (CN)

I hope this early years thread is enjoyable- it will prolly skip around a lot over the last five hundred-odd games...

 

[the Jester]

The Mynar Mystery

"Galador sucks," Galiger Light sneers.

The party is assembled in a room upstairs at a tavern. "Look at this weird Mynar thing! It's some sort of cover-up; I'm sure they're ultimately responsible." He looks at the group. The youth, Dexter, is looking at him attentively, the others less so but still with interest.

"I mean, come on! It's obvious," he goes on, completely glossing over inconveniences like evidence or the truth. "Anyone can see it. It's all about Bleak. Bleak's the way to go."

Talking about Bleak like this, of course, would get one crucified or tortured by the Inquisition if it were found out.

Bleak is the devil-figure in the Galadorian faith. If you're not a priest, saying the sacred name of Galador will get you whipped. The people are pretty well ground down beneath a powerful church with an empire that backs it up- Forinthia. (This was, in fact, the entire amount of prep I did for the first couple of games- just a quick map and a concept, plus spheres for Galador and Bleak.)

In any event, Galiger ranted and raved for a few more minutes as it became evident that nobody in the little group was exactly a good Galadorian. And Dexter- he seemed to have a lot of promise!

After railing against the church for a while, Galiger proceeds to ply the party with booze. That evening, Dexter displays interest in Bleak when approached individually, and seems to be pretty much a convert. After all, he's only a lad; just sixteen (? or fifteen?) He hasn't much experience in the world; but, he tells Galiger, his parents were killed by Forinthian soldiers. He'll work counter to their purposes, all right. And he has certain... facilities with his mind...

Later, the group searches Dinagar's study thoroughly (in secret, without his widow's permission). They turn up an interesting note on the subject of 'Mynar', dated seven days ago (1/10/95 O.L.G.):

Mynar think mynar mynar is driving mynar mynar. I mynar mynar but of mynar. Mynar island has sucked mynar mynar, blackened mynar. How mynar mynar that mynar mynar obsessed mynar mynar?

After discussing this missive, they decide that Dinagar was definitely totally crazy, but that this 'Mynar' place is the key. And it seems as though the Church holds the knowledge they seek. Perhaps, muses Vito, Dexter's powers could...?

That night, there's a 'scuffle' between a Galadorian cleric and some of our (rather villainous) heroes, and soon there's a dead cleric on the ground. Galiger happily strips him of his armor and the bard takes his potion. Enjoying a rather nefarious level of success so far, the party follows the clues back (combined from Dinagar's papers, Dexter's mind powers and others) and soon finds the truth when they learn about the blackroot grass connection.

"An island in chains," sneered Galiger. "Wow, that's great."

It turned out that blackroot grass, a powerful narcotic, was being funnelled to far-off Mynar to keep the populace from revolting. The wizard Dinagar had been investigating, and in order to keep him from learning too much, the main villain of the piece, Auron, drove him mad with magical manipulation. Auron couldn't afford to be found out because, although he was acting with the Church's wink-and-nod-we'll-look-the-other-way, they didn't know that his supplier was Drondan, a cleric of Bleak.

The fact that he was fighting another priest of Bleak didn't give Galiger pause at all; when the battle came down, Malford moved in for the backstab, with Morden firing her bow at the wizard Auran, who fired back with a dancing wand of rusting and an ill-placed fireball. Drondand spent a little too much time casting prayer before Vito and Galiger started laying the smack down; he then foolishly aided himself before starting to fight with his battleaxe. By then it was almost too late; though Auran lasted a moment longer, Drondand was soon standing alone. But he seemed unbeatable, with almost impenetrable armor*, and he soon laid half the party low with his deadly axe.

Things were looking ugly, and Dexter cried out in frustration, making the mistake that would haunt him for the rest of his life, and, especially, after.

"Bleak!" he screamed, his teenager's voice breaking, "If you save us here, I will give you my soul!!!"

And he swung his quarterstaff, rolled a natural twenty, and pulped Drondand's head. Holding his staff tightly in both hands, Dexter stared unbelievingly at the corpse of the cleric.

"HAIL BLEAK!" shrieked Galiger, claiming Drondand's axe.

So everything seemed resolved; after a few days of healing, all that remained was a final report to the widow and to the authorities, which Galiger figured he could use to embarrass them, and the party's mission would be happily complete, with them able to go their separate ways if they chose- though Galiger wanted Dexter to come with him, very badly.

And that's when it all went wrong.

At the wrong place, at the wrong time, Morden mentioned the Galadorian cleric they'd killed. In front of other, less antisocial types.

The sage bolted instantly from the room, probably the only thing that saved his life. Malford wasted not an instant, casting sleep and dropping everyone in the area (the rest of the party was behind him). Then he quickly slit the throats of both the merchant and Morden Kain. "Stupid!" he said softly through gritted teeth. He was at his evilest. These were the only two true murders that Malford, later God-King of West Dorhaus, ever did.

The party beat a retreat out of town, but the word was out: they were bad guys. Game 2 already had our villains (definitely not heroes) with a price on their heads.


*AC-2 in 2nd edition terms; against 1st-level pcs... well, they had a time trying to hit him.


Next Time: We'll see- perhaps I'll do the next adventure chronologically, or should I try to do a later arc? (Such as the Fuligin arc, the clockwork horrors arc, the Firestorm Peak arc, etc.) I dunno, but eventually I'll post something in here again...

 

[Welverin]

Re: The Mynar Mystery

But he seemed unbeatable, with almost impenetrable armor*

This smells of an annotation, did you actually intend to include one or is the asterisk out of place?

Next Time: We'll see- perhaps I'll do the next adventure chronologically, or should I try to do a later arc?

Next adventure chronologically. I hereby formally request that you post updates of games in the order they happen without skipping things when possible.

 

[the Jester]

Whoops! Stuck my footnote in there...

Note that the npc cleric's axe was a battleaxe +2, which Galiger claimed as a cleric of Bleak.

 

[the Jester]

Lendore

The party (minus Morden, whom Malford had murdered) headed down the coast to Port Lofrax. Upon reaching said Port, the group managed to acquire a couple of new friends.

Lyr was a harpoon-throwing evil priest of the old religion of Forinthia, a savage faith that encouraged the eating of the hearts of worthy foes. She was attractive in a severe sort of way, and she and Galiger just about instantly hated each other. After all, they served different gods.

Galiger really liked the other new recruit, however. Chanticleer Gildar-Ynarlsland was her name, and she was a sexy elf chick in armor and bearing a sword. Deadly in a fight, Chanti was a devoted Bleakist and would soon prove a good help to the group's morale both by serving as their ship's tail and by composing sea chanties to Bleak, but both of those things are somewhat yet to come.

While in the inn at which they rented a room, the party happened upon an employment opportunity. A local wizard named Valkor the Water-Wizard hired them to go to a network of elven coral caves to gain a spell from their wizard for Valkor. Unfortunately, it would seem that the elves have not been responding to recent messages. Their fate must be ascertained, and the spell- control water- gained at all costs. Our heroes set out to hire a ship, but hadn't enough money to do one yet (and Valkor was unwilling to pay them up front). So Dexter came up with a plan.

When Godsday (the day of mandated worship by good Galadorians) rolled around, the villainous pcs whose antics we're following went to church so as not to attract attention. Galiger, a little drunk already, mouthed off a tiny bit at the start, but quieted down so as not to miss Dexter at work.

Lendore, the priest giving the sermon, was extolling the virtues of Galador and the service of the Light when Dexter spoke into his mind.

"My priest!" Dexter cried telepathically. "I am Galador, and I come to lay a charge on you! You must take a vessel to sea, and take a group of unlikely pilgrims with you!" Dexter rambled on at length, thoroughly bamboozling Lendore, the cleric, and our heroes had their ride for the first trip to the Coral Caves.

On the way there, which took several days, at Galiger's urgings Dexter tormented Lendore with his telepathic powers, telling him he'd failed his god, urging him to suicide and finally convincing him to kill himself! This was despite Dexter's having found Lendore to be an unusually tolerant Galadorian. Still, had Dexter never fallen into so deep a pit of evil he never could have risen as far as he later would. And so one night Lendore took himself to the ship's edge and cast himself into the sea, and no-one even noticed til dawn rose hours later.



Next Time: A foray into the Coral Caves! A couple more pcs, including the first Merellin! And things start to get ugly for Dexter!

 

[Dakkareth]

I *really* like this style and the story hour. Nothing like seeing the reasons behind today's fundamental truths live