Knightfall's Realmsian Dragonstar (Updated: Sept 08/10)

[Knightfall]

[While I haven't finished part two I did sort of promise a post by today so here is the beginning of part two of book two.]

Part Two - Below the Burning Sky

Arassil sat at the end of the table drumming her long clawed nails on the wood. She was annoyed. These dalesfolk spent too much time talking and not enough time doing. After all, there was a war going on. Arassil stared at the humans, elves, and half-elves seated around the table with disdain and concern in her eyes. The half-dragon elf had become fond of these dalesfolk people but she knew they wouldn't be a match for seasoned Imperial Legions.

The Legions would be posed to strike into the valley within hours and nothing this Dales Council could do would matter if they didn't listen to her. Arassil and her men could hold off the Legions for a couple hours at most in a frontal assault, not an option. The only option was guerilla tactics using the forest as cover. Of course, the dalesfolk would have to abandon their homes to the trees, which none at the table were willing to concede. Not even the stubborn Lord of Shadowdale who had gathered the Council together so quickly.

Arassil hated councils. These men were worse then the Arcanum.

"If you don't do what I say, you will be wiped out." Arassil was done being diplomatic. "Or worse."

"Come now," one of the Swords' of Archendale spoke as if he could hold off the Legions with just his sword. "These invaders are just men. They will die as easily as any other man by my sword."

Arassil hated the man and hadn't cared to learn his name. Most of his fellow Swords' were either dead or captured, yet he still danced like a overzealous rooster. He believed he was destined to unite the Dalelands, as Elminster called it, and was for a frontal assault on the Legions.

"You will die for nothing."

The others in the council were not as convinced but still refused to surrender Shadowdale to the Imperials.

"Featherdale, Harrowdale, Scardale, and Tasseldale have all fallen in less than two days. All others are either hard pressed or simply haven't been strategic enough to have been conquered first. Shadowdale and Mistledale are our best hopes of holding them off. We must not fall back. I will not run and hide. If I am to die it will be here defending my home, Lady Arassil."

Arassil was impressed by Lord Mourngrym's courage but knew what he suggested would be a death sentence for him and his people. And the worst part was they were willing to follow him into death. Fanatics, they were all fanatics. Arassil sighed looking out upon the ruins of what had been Shadowdale, the town.

The plasma fire had stopped soon after she had saved Mourngrym's hide. She knew why. Commander Madden had obviously revealed himself and attacked the Imperial ships in orbit. She had tried to raise the Victory without luck. Her radio wasn't strong enough and there wasn't any other way to contact them as long as they had the ship shielded and on alert.

She wasn't even sure if the Victory had survived. Arassil looked skyward watching as debris fell out of orbit and burned up in Toril's atmosphere. The sun would be setting soon but the sky was already red with fire in the dim light of early evening.

"I won't help you lead your people to slaughter, Lord Mourngrym." Arassil knew the council would do what it set its deluded, collective minds to, regardless of what she said but she had to try. "Those plasma cannons that have laid waste to your homes were just the beginning. The Legions will come with smaller versions mounted on hovering machines of death and destruction like you've never seen before. Each soldier will come armed in a mechanical steel suit of armor, which will protect the soldiers from any mundane weapon. They will carry weapons of mass destruction in their hands. Laser pistols, plasma rifles and worse, cutting you down in the hundreds. Do you really want your people to die that way?"

The table went silent. Maybe they would listen to her after all. She wished Elminster was by her side to back up her words. They would listen to him without question. But he had gone to Waterdeep to help protect that great city from the Legions now laying siege to it. Of course, Elminster could return to Shadowdale within moments. His Arcanum ring could bring him to his home before one of his spells could have. Arassil fingered her own ring worrying about whether or not she would have to use it to escape the slaughter that these dalesfolk were heading for.

Finally, Lord Mourngrym spoke. "We understand what we are up against, Lady Arassil. But we cannot flee. If we give up Mistledale and Shadowdale then all is lost. Forget dying. Without our home, without the Dalelands, we have nothing."

"Aye," Randal Morn of Daggerdale turned towards Arassil. "The time for fighting as a bandit in my own lands is over. I just got my homeland back and I'm not about to abandon it now. And let's not forget that Cormanthor isn't that safe either. The number of drow in the forest increases every year. And then there are the Zhents. They could use this Dragon Empire invasion to their advantage and try to conquer the Dalelands."

"Oh bugger," Arassil couldn't believe her ears. "Your worry about these drow and Zhents to much. You want something to worry about. Imagine them aligning with the Empire against you. Drow are major players in Imperial politics and would gladly recruit your enemies to attack you so they could deal with other larger concerns. Imagine those Zhents with laser rifles and war machine to back them up."

The half-dragon elf let her words sink in. Now, maybe they would listen.

"By the Gods," Lord Mourngrym was starting to get the picture. "That would be a disaster. Do you really think that could happen?"

"I'm planning my strategies based on the fact that I'm positive it will."

A murmur went around the table of the Dales Council and all were in agreement.

"What do we do?" Randal Morn stared at Arassil with terror in his eyes. She was their only hope.

* * *

Elminster of Shadowdale stood atop the ramparts of the city of Waterdeep staring calmly out towards the hovertanks and Imperial Legions of the Dragon Empire bombarding the City of Splendor with plasma and laser fire. The Sage of Shadowdale held his thundering longsword in one hand, his other hand outstretched palm up. His brow was covered in sweat and he was concentrating harder than he'd every had to before in his life. The Lord Mage of Waterdeep, Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun stood next to him upon the rampart in the same pose, his breath raspy and uneven.

Without the Weave, without their goddess they were mere wielders of magic, not great Archmages of Faerûn. Dozens of the wizards and sorcerers from in and around Waterdeep stood beside them each with their hands outstretched palms up. The only reason Elminster only needed one hand was the power of his goddess she had given to him before her death. He felt it still but it was slowly slipping away. Three down from his left was Laeral Silverhand, one of the Silver Sisters. She strained under the onslaught of the plasma fire slamming into the magical shield they had erected to surround Waterdeep and protect its citizens and warriors. Even Halaster Blackcloak stood with the defenders of Waterdeep - strangely lucid.

Of course, none of it would have been possible if not for the God standing in the center of the city, taller than any giant could hope to be. Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead, Judge of the Damned and now the leader of the Faerûn Pantheon used his godly might to power the magic of the arcane spellcasters holding up the shield against the onslaught. The priests of Kelemvor in the city had spread the news that Ao had betrayed the world to the Dragon Empire causing the Weave to collapse and send Mystra to oblivion. Not only that, Ao's betrayal had destroyed over half of the gods and goddesses of Faerûn leaving many people without their gods or their faith intact.

Faerûn would never be the same.

A young mage next to Blackstaff cried out in pain, as a missile impacted the shield in front of her. The woman, who was barely old enough to be standing with such esteemed company, fell backwards over the rampart down into the street below. The fall left her unconscious and battered but none on the rampart could move to help her. It would be folly for anyone to do so, as it would now be even harder to keep the shield up. It had happened dozens of times before, as wizards and sorcerers dropped in exhaustion. They would need the help of every bard in city very soon at this rate. Elminster steeled himself against a powerful plasma burst that hit the shield next to where he stood.

Clerics of Kelemvor, Ilmater and Lathander tended to the dead and wounded, while the clerics and warriors of Helm, Talos, Tempus and Tyr fought a desperate battle against foes with better magical power and advanced weapons and technology. It was strange watching Talos and Tempus's followers fight side by side with those of Helm and Tyr's. Elminster watched as they charged the incoming hovertanks on horseback and on foot. It was suicide but there wasn't any other choice. Dozens of warriors disintegrated in a flash of plasma fire. Those still alive met the column of Imperial Legions fighting sword and mace against blaster and powered armor.

"It won't be long now."

* * *

 

[Piratecat]

This just keeps getting better and better!

Thought: other people may disagree, but I find it easier to read a couple of shorter posts and a few really long ones. Take that for what it's worth.

 

[Knightfall]

This just keeps getting better and better!

Thought: other people may disagree, but I find it easier to read a couple of shorter posts and a few really long ones. Take that for what it's worth.

Like someone said before... that's high praise coming from the master. Heh!

Thanks P'Cat.

And yes, I've found that writing really long posts is to time consuming and hard on the brain. But I'll have more of this done middle of next week.

 

[Knightfall]

Below the Burning Sky (cont)

Several hours later…

Disan felt like her was lost in the dimensional corridors of Outlands Station. He had been walking through the desert wastes of this Toril, in a place where there logically shouldn’t be a desert, for at least a day. Of course, Disan had seen stranger things in his career but it was a new one.

He’d gone west around the strange, fog-enshrouded lake staying far enough away from water’s edge, as not to become lost in the fog, while staying as far away from the strange, jagged mountain range that formed an imposing horseshoe around the lake. There wasn’t any way he was going to look for a pass through those black, jagged mountains. At least the desert was something he could relate to.

Disan was from Merial, a dry , desert world in the Fiustt system in the Domain of Sarava. While his parents had sent him to the Imperial Military Academy on Draconis Prime when he turned thirteen, Disan had spent twelve great years on Merial. He had loved sand-cart derby racing and had wanted to go pro on the T.E.S.T. sand skimmer circuit when he was old enough. Of course, being sent to school on Draconis Prime had forced Disan to give up on that dream. He’d never seen his parents since. They simply took the Empire’s enrollment fee and moved somewhere else he’d never been able to find. He didn’t use his last name anymore, not that anyone in the Imperial Fleet had gave a crap what he called himself.

Now he was stuck on a hostile planet without backup and only his laser pistol to protect him from whatever lived in this place. He’d already had to kill a pack of predators that tried to make him their dinner. They looked like something out of his nightmares, as a teenager. The Imperial Military Academy is a hard place to grow up.

Disan checked his digital compass again. It was fluctuating widely, which wasn’t a surprise. Digital compasses never work right.

“Give me an universal sextant any day.” Disan’s voice was raw and tired. He immediately wished he’d not spoken aloud. He coughed through the hood and scarf that he normally kept in his ethereal dufflebag. The magical pack is the one thing he won’t let out of his sight. He should have had it stowed it in his ejector seat module but didn’t trust the design of the module. Its homing rocket engines should have fired bringing the module down near where he had landed his parachute. Now it was under the lake with the rest of his gear.

He smacked the digital compass a couple times and it whirred in complaint. He was pretty sure he was heading roughly north, northwest. Then the digital readout blinked once and went dead.

Disan lost his temper screaming at the alien sky. He threw the digital compass as hard as he could into the fog towards the lake. He heard it make a satisfying splash in the water.

The Imperial pilot looked up at the dark sky trying to make sense of the star pattern. If he could find it then he would know where north was. He had studied the reports on this sector carefully before the Basilisk had left on this mission. He knew the star Arador would be in the Northern Hemisphere form any planet in this system. The basic recon of the system by the runnerships had determined that would be the case. The star should line up 30 degrees off the center of the worlds North Pole. It would also be the brightest star in the sky. He turned around scanning the night sky. He couldn’t find it where it was supposed to be then realized that the fog was moving in from the lake. It was obscuring his vision he’d never find it now.

Disan headed towards the dark mountains hoping that higher ground would help him get his bearings. It was the last thing any sane person would have done but he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t figure out where north was he would die out here,

The Imperial pilot walked for several miles in brooding silence. The mountains loomed above him like dark shards of volcanic glass yet the landscape remained the same rolling, sandy wastes. No hills or foothills appeared before the jagged glass-like mountains. Disan shivered in fear. This was definitely not natural.

Then he heard them.

“What do you think, mate? Should we spare her or take her?”

“Don’t be stupid, Brett. Remember what happened to Chambers?”

Imperial Legions, he knew this because of the ‘Chambers’ name reference they used. Of course, there wasn’t anyone real named Chambers. It was slang used by Imperial pilots and legionnaires to refer to the last member of their unit to get busted or killed by not following procedure. It happened a lot and soon everyone was using the false name ‘Chambers’ to show a strange, morbid respect for the dead.

“Who’s going to know, Sarge? Tell me that?”

They were roughly fifty yards in front of him, standing in the darkness. Three legion soldiers stood around a woman shivering on the ground. Several dead bodies lay on the ground near the soldiers. Disan could smell the burnt flesh. The soldiers were in full body armor, the metal joints whirring through the night. Imperial Legion soldiers weren’t known for being subtle or silent.

“I’ll know, soldier.”

The three armored men pointed their blaster rifles towards Disan or at least where he’d been. Several small shards of rock stood nearby and Disan found cover just in case the soldiers were trigger-happy. Disan covered his ears as plasma fire rang through the night. He sighed shaking his head. Of course they were trigger-happy.

“Who goes there? Identify yourself!”

“2nd Lieutenant Disan. Pilot of Lander 29 of the Imperial Hammerhead, Basilisk.” Disan tried not to laugh. Ground pounders weren’t known for their sense of humor.

“Come out slowly, Lieutenant. Your hands where I can see them.” It was the sergeant’s voice.

Disan came out from the rock his arms in the air.

“Sergeant,” Disan was trying very hard not to smile. “What’s going on here?”

The Imperial soldiers lowered their weapons after a signal from the sergeant. Of course, if he’d been anything else but what he’d appeared to be the sergeant would have known instantly. The true seeing enchantment built into every command suit of powered armor was a great boon for every Legion commander.

“You should be more careful, Lieutenant.” The sergeant tried to evade his question. “We could have killed you.”

Disan wasn’t going to let this man forget his rank. “I wasn’t in any danger, sergeant. And you still haven’t answered my question. What’s going on here? Where is the rest of your platoon? What’s you name?”

“Fielder, sir,” the sergeant saluted Disan and his men followed suit. “Our platoon was split up after the attack by the flying fortress, sir. We were part of landing group 6.”

He was still avoiding the first question.

“You still haven’t answered my first question, sergeant! What is going on here!” Disan was losing his temper. Ground pounders never gave Imperial navy officers any respect. By the Twelve, he was going to put fear in their hearts. He took out his pistol, a pathetic weapon against their blaster rifles but he knew their training taught them to fear Imperial officers.

“Sir,” the sergeant cleared his throat. “It’s not what you think. Corporal Thunder and I were just discussing what to –“

“I know what you were ‘discussing’ sergeant! And you better pray I don’t decide to tell the Protocols about this. We are here to put down an insurrection! Not rape and pillage! Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir!” The three Imperial soldiers chimed in unison.

Disan steeled himself under the weight of the fear their armor put into his heart. He had to appear to remain confident or else they’d think him weak and turn the tables on him. He strode past the sergeant to the prisoner. She glowered at him showing no fear. He wouldn’t be able to intimidate her, not that he’d planned to. But he’d have to put on a show regardless.

“What is your name?”

She said nothing.

“She doesn’t speak any Imperial languages, sir. She’s quite the primitive.”

She looked at Corporal Thunder unable to hide her fear of the armored man. She understood his motivations just fine.

“Corporal Thunder, scout the area for any more of her people. There has to be a settlement here somewhere.”

“Yes sir.” The man saluted again then clomped out into the fog that had crept up and engulfed them.

“Sergeant Fielder, setup some sort of perimeter for the night. We aren’t going anywhere in this fog.”

“Yes Lieutenant,” the Imperial Legionnaire saluted Disan, which was starting to get on the pilot’s nerve. “Shanks, your with me.”

The two Imperial grounders stopped off out of earshot.

“Don’t even think of running, girl.” Disan whispered to the young woman crouched in front of him. “They’d spot you in a second even through this fog. And they’d shoot first, beat you senseless second.”

She tried to make it appear as if she didn’t understand, shaking her head.

“Don’t give me that,” Disan eyes peered through her ‘primitive’ disguise. “You understand me just fine. And if you want me to get you out of this then you’ll do what I tell you. Imperial soldiers have short fuses and will kill us both if they think they can intimidate us.”

She raised an eyebrow then nodded her head in agreement.

“Good,” Disan checked over his should for a second but kept an eye on her regardless. “Now, I suggest you continue to play stupid. Best they think you ‘primitive’.

The woman nodded again pulling her torn cloak tightly around her. Disan could see why the corporal had been tempted even though such a thing was completely against protocol, not to mention sickening. Her profile in the foggy darkness was exquisite and Disan was glad she couldn’t see him blush.

Disan and the Bedine girl waited together for the Imperial Legion soldiers to return – both prisoners of circumstance.

* * *

 

[Knightfall]

Feeling a little better...

Hey, just to let you all know that I'm a little better this week and will have an update for you either late today or sometime tomorrow.

Until then check out my latest World of Kulan post. It's not very long but it's a good star to the Alliance.

Cheers!

 

[Knightfall]

Below the Burning Sky (cont)

Hadrhune stood in the central facility of the City of Shade looking at the reports coming in from his operatives across the continent. It wasn’t good but it could have been worse. Waterdeep still stood, holding off the Imperials with the help of the god Kelemvor. The situation was the same in Calimport. Shar had chosen that city to defend instead of coming to Shade’s defense. Of course, Shade could take care of itself but Hadrhune couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the Lady of Loss.

The shade put such thoughts out of his mind as he switched to a different datapad looking at the situation in Silverymoon. He kept going back to the report and had read it dozens of times. The city was hard pressed, on the brink of collapse. It wouldn’t last the night without real help. Everything in his being told him that it would be folly to do what he was considering. His men wouldn’t understand and neither would the High Telamont.

Not that he was worried about the mad clone currently wandering the city looking for him. He was more concerned what his true father, still on the Plane of Shadows, would have to say about him coming to the aid of the people of the Silver Marches. Destroying Imperial vessels landing near shade territory was one thing but helping the enemy was another thing entirely.

Hadrhune looked up from the datapad at the holographic projection detailing the area around the ruins of Ascore. The city had come to Ascore after one of Hadrhune’s agents had sent him a message that the Imperials had attacked the shade camp there. Hadrhune had sent the expedition to the ruins himself. There had been evidence of advanced technology at the ruins and Hadrhune wanted it. His men had been working on the site for months and had uncovered material that had proved vital in the creation of a new type of automated aircraft, which Hadrhune had named shadow strikers. Dozens of these special strike aircraft were near ready for testing hidden deep within the innards of the City of Shade.

The Imperials had detected the energy signatures coming from beneath the shade camp and had attacked without warning. The placement guns built into the sites ruined pyramids had held them off until Shade had arrived and destroyed the Imperial hovertanks and strike aircraft. Hadrhune hadn’t even needed the shadow strikers. He wouldn’t risk losing them unless absolutely necessary.

Hadrhune watched as several Imperial units that had been routed in the fight retreated down the Fork Road past the Fork. They would continue on past towards Sundabar, which lay in ruins and then on to Silverymoon through Silverymoon Pass. The city wouldn’t stand a chance after that.

Hadrhune made his decision.

“The Imperials run like the cowards they are.” Hadrhune pointed to the fleeing units with a handheld laser pen. The holographic display shifted zooming in on the region near Sundabar. “They will not escape our wrath. Set course for Silverymoon Pass. I want those bastards hides before they reach Silverymoon. After that, we just might as well destroy the other Imperial units laying siege to Silverymoon. It could turn out to be good politically for Shade if we help the Silver Marches.”

“Yes Hadrhune.” The shades working in the central facility replied in unison. The shades went to work calmly setting the city in motion towards Silverymoon.

Hadrhune moved away from the holo-projector. He could feel the city begin to move as he switched to another datapad detailing the situation in Cormyr. His mind wandered as he read the report, not giving it much thought. He had a debt to repay to Storm Silverhand and the love of Mystra to carry him forward. And if it meant saving the Silver Marches and Alustriel of Silverymoon then so be it.

Hadrhune’s cold heart quickened at the thought of seeing Alustriel again. Yes, his father would not understand.

* * *

 

[Knightfall]

Update coming soon

Hi all, I've been taking a bit of a break from EN World, as I was updating some things about my webpage and other roleplaying stuff.

But now I should have an update to Realmsian Dragonstar either Saturday or Sunday. Until then check out the update to my World of Kulan Story Hour.

Cheers!

 

[Knightfall]

Below the Burning Sky (cont)

Kelemvor watched in frustration from the Cynosure. Of course, his main Avatar still stood at the center of the City of Waterdeep. It mattered little to a god of Kelemvor’s stature. He was now the de facto leader of the Faerûnian Pantheon, which he had had announced to his faithful followers. The news spread quickly through the churches of the pantheon as well. Many of those mortals that had lost their god to Ao’s betrayal had flocked to his church for answers and protection. Kelemvor had accepted all that were true in their hearts to his faith and his power and portfolio had expanded overnight, returning him to the power of a greater god.

Not that any of that concerned him at the moment, as he watched the Imperial forces spread across Faerûn conquering and razing all in their path. Cormyr was in ruins, as were dozens of other kingdoms and city-states in the Western Heartlands. Only Waterdeep and Silverymoon stood in the North. Calimshan was holding on due to Shar’s influence. Amn was not as lucky even with Bane’s help. The Black Lord, surprisingly, was giving it his all to protect Athkatla, Amn’s capital city. Bane was definitely not acting like Bane. Unfortunately, Tethyr wasn’t faring as well as the rest of the Lands of Intrigue. Not even the aid of Ilmater was keeping the Imperials at bay. Of course, the Crying God’s followers weren’t known for being frontline militants, regardless of their amazing endurance and determination.

It was the same all across Faerûn. The faithful of the Pantheon were outmatched and outgunned. Even Gond’s followers and their smokepowder bombards were making very little difference. Many of the rulers of the Moonsea had already surrendered and gladly joined the ranks of the Imperials marching on the Dalelands and Sembia. Cyric had ordered his followers to align themselves with the Imperials in a mad grab for power. He’d betray them, of course, hoping to conquer all of Faerûn. It was madness.

“That jackal is going to be the death of us all.” Kelemvor thought the words out loud in the Cynosure.

Milil was scribbling the names of the dead next to his lord. The Lord of the Dead had passed as much godly power to his new Scribe of the Doomed as he dared. He replied to his lord without looking up from his ledger.

“Cyric was always a madman, Lord Kelemvor. It’s not surprising that he’d do something as foolish as align with the enemy.”

“Agreed,” Kelemvor switched his mind’s focus towards the lands that troubled him most. “He is a lunatic and his plan will get him killed. I am not as concerned about Cyric as I am about the God of the Mulhorandi.”

Milil stopped scribbling, for the smallest moment in time, before continuing to write down the names of the dead. He did not respond to his Lord’s concerns. After all, there wasn’t anything her could do about it. He waited for his Lord to continue.

“Tempus and his followers oppose the armies of the Mulhorandi near the Methmere but not even all the power of the Lord of Battles can hold off an entire pantheon.”

The Lord of the Dead watched as several Avatars of Tempus clashed with the new Imperial Aspects of the Mulhorandi. The Mulhorand Gods had changed – these traitors of Toril and its people now appeared in even stranger forms than they had before. They carried powerful plasma weapons, both ranged and melee, and were decimating the followers of Tempus.

Several powerful bombards of Gond returned fire and Kelemvor watched as the projectile missiles bounced harmlessly off the energy shield that protected the Mulhorand army. One of Tempus’ Avatars met Horus-Re’s on the battlefield. The two titans clashed but Horus-re obviously had the advantage. He was a greater god after all, while Tempus was barely an intermediate god now. Horus-Re cut half of Tempus’ left arm off with his new plasma-enhanced khopesh. The Lord of Battles’ Avatar actually screamed in pain, which echoed through each of Tempus’ Avatars. Kelemvor sensed Tempus shift enough of his power to keep his other Avatars whole. The one fighting Horus-Re wouldn’t last much longer without help.

Kelemvor made a decision unlike any he had ever considered before. The Lord of the Dead reached out with his mind contacting the remaining gods of the Faerûnian Pantheon.

“Brothers, sisters! Our battle with the Mulhorandi goes against us. Anyone with enough divine power left must send an Avatar to the shores of the Methmere to help in the battle. The Mulhorandi Gods even now walk those shores dealing death to our people. I for one have had enough!”

Just as Horus-Re brought his khopesh to behead Tempus’ Avatar, Kelemvor transferred his main Avatar from Waterdeep to Unther and transferred another to Waterdeep to help protect that city. He would not lose any of Tempus’ power even if it meant Waterdeep might fall.

Kelemvor blocked Horus-Re’s strike with his divine bastard sword, Fatal Touch.

“Hello Horus-Re,” Kelemvor sneered at the greater god of the Mulhorandi. “You and I need to have another discussion!”

Kelemvor’s words echoed across the battlefield as he smashed his fist across the other god’s Avatar sending him flying into the air, over his advancing army, and deep into the bowels of the Methwood. The sight of Kelemvor’s Avatar on the battlefield gave hope to the followers of Tempus and they surged forward to meet the Mulhorandi army.

Soon half-a-dozen Avatars of the remaining gods of the Faerûnian Pantheon appeared on the battlefield striking back at the Mulhorandi - Gond, Helm, Kossuth, Talos, Tyr, and, surprisingly, Bane.

Horus-Re’s Avatar reappeared in front of the Lord of the Dead, as Kelemvor helped Tempus’ Avatar off his knees. The Lord of Battles’ arm reappeared, as Kelemvor passed some of his divine power to the warrior god – something Ao would never had done. But Kelemvor wasn’t Ao.

“That was a mistake, Kelemvor.” Horus-Re was incensed that Kelemvor had so easily destroyed one of his Avatars. “I had been content to conquer and hold the lands of the south for the Dragon Empire. I was going to offer you the chance to join the Unification Church but now, now I will settle for nothing less than total domination of all of Faerûn.”

Tempus stood beside his liege, his battleaxe, Battle Prowess, ready to defend Kelemvor from Horus-Re. He was amazed and pleased to see Kelemvor step forward to meet the Mulhorandi God.

“You will have to go through me first, Horus-Re. You will not subjugate a single soul for the Empire, as long as I have a spark of divinity left in me. Those souls belong to the Faerûnian Pantheon alive or dead.”

The two gods rushed each other, their godly blades clashed producing thunder and lightning. The skies of Unther roared with the sounds of battle, god versus god, mortal versus mortal.

* * *

 

[Salthorae]

awesome

Hey there first post on this thread....and i must say I love it!

FR is one of my favorite settings and i've just recently begun playing in a Dragonstar campaign and I love what you've done with combining the two it is so awesome. I love all the little twists you've done thus far such as the betrayal from Ao and Kelemvor becoming the overpower.

i'm pretty much hooked I just wonder now...what's gotten into Bane? heheh

 

[Broccli_Head]

Wow! I'm glad that I found this post! I will have to pass it on to my other players. I wonder what it would be like to game in this world....