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<blockquote data-quote="Guilberwood" data-source="post: 2540694" data-attributes="member: 15692"><p><strong>Prolog</strong></p><p></p><p>Prolog </p><p></p><p></p><p>“Well, I guess this is it, this wheel is not taking us nowhere” said Darrien, the priest to the elf that accompanied him on this trip. As a matter of fact, it was more like a thought than the beginning of a dialog. During the whole trip, the elf had said very little. Darrien had already heard that this race was a quiet one, most were very reserved, but that was already too much. After a second thought, this creature didn’t even look like an elf, or at least not like the elves he had known. The clothes he wore made him look more like a barbarian form the north than like an elf. Not even his name made any sense: Lua azul (blue moon in the common language). “What the hell…Kryn has tree moons and none of them is blue! What’s this freaking name supposed to mean?</p><p></p><p>Anyway , his intuition had been right. It was a good thing he hired the elf. The roads had been a dangerous place in that region, and the elf’s sword could have proved extremely useful at any moment. Thinking of the sword, his thoughts came back to the elf “even his sword is weird” he said to himself. As a matter of fact, the weapon Lua carried was indeed weird. It was a two-bladed sword, held by its middle by the warrior. “I can’t even imagine a scabbard for this thing”. Deep inside, the priest was having fun with the exotic appearance of his traveling buddy. </p><p></p><p>At that exact moment, they were both stuck in the middle of the road, because one of the wheels from their wagon had just broke. Worse than that, it seemed like there was no way to fix it. “Why did it have to break now, specially when we’re so close to Hillfall” – Darrien was mooring to himself. </p><p></p><p>The old priest (he was more than fifty years old) had traveled with his old wagon to the city of Ker-vakt, to buy some items for the orphanage he managed, and sell some gifts he had gained from favors and small blessings he had done to the citizens of Hillfall. Darrien regretted having to sell this gifts, but the orphanage he ran was very very poor, and every single steel piece was more than welcome. </p><p></p><p>On his way form Hillfall to Ker-vakt, the priest had made the poor donkey that carried the wagon suffer, for he didn’t want to risk any kind of encounter along the road. The animal ran like he had never done is it’s life. Sadly, upon arriving at its destination, the animal was half dead already, and would never be able to do the same thing on his way back.</p><p></p><p>Yet, on the road he heard stories that were less than cheering: as if the road bandits were not problem enough, the goblins had started pillaging caravans too. The rumors, people told him, were that the goblins were an organized crew, led by a new leader called Ragash,, bloody hand, who dwelled in the city of Gulfport.</p><p></p><p>The priest’s stay in Ker-vakt was as short as possible. He hated to stay away form the orphanage, even if only for a small period of time. “Dante can take care of everything while I am away”, he thought, but, still, it was better not to push his luck.</p><p> </p><p>The problem was that the donkey would never be able to go as fast as it did on his way to Ker-vakt. Besides, the wagon was fully loaded with rations and a new set of pots the priest had bought, and it was entirely impossible to expect more than a few hours of forced march from the animal.</p><p></p><p>“My way back will take a little longer” and, as he thought about the dangers of the trip a cold feeling ran trough his body. All of the sudden he started to have a very bad feeling about the whole thing. Darrien did not believe in a thing such as luck, nor in chance, his training as a priest and his whole life had always told him that whenever ho felt like that it meant a warning from his God Habbakuk, the blue phoenix, lord of land and see, who always helped him in his times of trouble. </p><p></p><p>So, the priest decided to save his last steel coins and hire a bodyguard, someone who could protect himself and his precious wagon. It was not without regret that he came to this conclusion “This money could be spent on the orphanage, to buy new beds for the boys. Although, what use are this coins is I don’t come back alive to Hillfall”.</p><p></p><p></p><p>However, unfortunately hiring a scout had become a tougher job than he had first thought. His 20 steel pieces were not nearly enough to hire even the most inexperienced adventurer. As it seemed, that money was not enough to convince anyone to risk their necks at the roads of Northen Ergoth.</p><p></p><p>He was almost giving up when fate finally smiled at him, “Or was it a curse?” he wondered.</p><p></p><p>In the small docks of the city, an elf carrying a two-bladed sword looked from one way to the other, seeming utterly lost. This foreigner didn’t look like any of the elves Darrien had seen before. Rustic clothes, blue hair, greenish skin, e, to top it all, he had an enormous scar in his forehead.</p><p></p><p>Sometime latter, the priest would find out that this was a Kagonesi, wild elves that inhabit the forests of Southern Ergoth.</p><p></p><p>At that time, Darrien had never heard about this Kagonesi elves. But he realized that the elf had never been to a city before (at least a human one) and, he had certainly never interacted with humans. All the noise and action of the city seemed to deeply bother him. </p><p></p><p>At least, the elf knew how to speak the common language, even tough he spoke with a huge accent, as if he spoke some kind of ancient form that nobody had used for centuries.</p><p></p><p>Be as it may, something about that elf called the priests attention (and he took it as another sign form his God) and, without a second thought, Darrien decided to hire the elf as his bodyguard. After all, the elf was strong and carried a massive sword. However, those were only rhetoric arguments he used to convince himself, for the truth is that he was already despaired for help, and the elf was his last hope.</p><p></p><p>After a few minutes of conversation (mostly gesticulation), the elf agreed to travel with the priest. In the end, Darrien was almost certain that the elf (whose name, now he knew, was Lua Azul) had not understood the conversation very well, specially the payment stuff, for the elf did not know what steel pieces meant.</p><p></p><p>And so, after three days on the road, they were stuck with a broken wagon, and neither of them knew how to fix the dam wheel.</p><p></p><p>The last thing the priest wanted was to stay idle on the road, an easy mark for the road robbers…</p><p></p><p>Something had to be done, they couldn’t just stay there waiting for the worst to happen. Something had to be done, and it had to be done fast</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Guilberwood, post: 2540694, member: 15692"] [b]Prolog[/b] Prolog “Well, I guess this is it, this wheel is not taking us nowhere” said Darrien, the priest to the elf that accompanied him on this trip. As a matter of fact, it was more like a thought than the beginning of a dialog. During the whole trip, the elf had said very little. Darrien had already heard that this race was a quiet one, most were very reserved, but that was already too much. After a second thought, this creature didn’t even look like an elf, or at least not like the elves he had known. The clothes he wore made him look more like a barbarian form the north than like an elf. Not even his name made any sense: Lua azul (blue moon in the common language). “What the hell…Kryn has tree moons and none of them is blue! What’s this freaking name supposed to mean? Anyway , his intuition had been right. It was a good thing he hired the elf. The roads had been a dangerous place in that region, and the elf’s sword could have proved extremely useful at any moment. Thinking of the sword, his thoughts came back to the elf “even his sword is weird” he said to himself. As a matter of fact, the weapon Lua carried was indeed weird. It was a two-bladed sword, held by its middle by the warrior. “I can’t even imagine a scabbard for this thing”. Deep inside, the priest was having fun with the exotic appearance of his traveling buddy. At that exact moment, they were both stuck in the middle of the road, because one of the wheels from their wagon had just broke. Worse than that, it seemed like there was no way to fix it. “Why did it have to break now, specially when we’re so close to Hillfall” – Darrien was mooring to himself. The old priest (he was more than fifty years old) had traveled with his old wagon to the city of Ker-vakt, to buy some items for the orphanage he managed, and sell some gifts he had gained from favors and small blessings he had done to the citizens of Hillfall. Darrien regretted having to sell this gifts, but the orphanage he ran was very very poor, and every single steel piece was more than welcome. On his way form Hillfall to Ker-vakt, the priest had made the poor donkey that carried the wagon suffer, for he didn’t want to risk any kind of encounter along the road. The animal ran like he had never done is it’s life. Sadly, upon arriving at its destination, the animal was half dead already, and would never be able to do the same thing on his way back. Yet, on the road he heard stories that were less than cheering: as if the road bandits were not problem enough, the goblins had started pillaging caravans too. The rumors, people told him, were that the goblins were an organized crew, led by a new leader called Ragash,, bloody hand, who dwelled in the city of Gulfport. The priest’s stay in Ker-vakt was as short as possible. He hated to stay away form the orphanage, even if only for a small period of time. “Dante can take care of everything while I am away”, he thought, but, still, it was better not to push his luck. The problem was that the donkey would never be able to go as fast as it did on his way to Ker-vakt. Besides, the wagon was fully loaded with rations and a new set of pots the priest had bought, and it was entirely impossible to expect more than a few hours of forced march from the animal. “My way back will take a little longer” and, as he thought about the dangers of the trip a cold feeling ran trough his body. All of the sudden he started to have a very bad feeling about the whole thing. Darrien did not believe in a thing such as luck, nor in chance, his training as a priest and his whole life had always told him that whenever ho felt like that it meant a warning from his God Habbakuk, the blue phoenix, lord of land and see, who always helped him in his times of trouble. So, the priest decided to save his last steel coins and hire a bodyguard, someone who could protect himself and his precious wagon. It was not without regret that he came to this conclusion “This money could be spent on the orphanage, to buy new beds for the boys. Although, what use are this coins is I don’t come back alive to Hillfall”. However, unfortunately hiring a scout had become a tougher job than he had first thought. His 20 steel pieces were not nearly enough to hire even the most inexperienced adventurer. As it seemed, that money was not enough to convince anyone to risk their necks at the roads of Northen Ergoth. He was almost giving up when fate finally smiled at him, “Or was it a curse?” he wondered. In the small docks of the city, an elf carrying a two-bladed sword looked from one way to the other, seeming utterly lost. This foreigner didn’t look like any of the elves Darrien had seen before. Rustic clothes, blue hair, greenish skin, e, to top it all, he had an enormous scar in his forehead. Sometime latter, the priest would find out that this was a Kagonesi, wild elves that inhabit the forests of Southern Ergoth. At that time, Darrien had never heard about this Kagonesi elves. But he realized that the elf had never been to a city before (at least a human one) and, he had certainly never interacted with humans. All the noise and action of the city seemed to deeply bother him. At least, the elf knew how to speak the common language, even tough he spoke with a huge accent, as if he spoke some kind of ancient form that nobody had used for centuries. Be as it may, something about that elf called the priests attention (and he took it as another sign form his God) and, without a second thought, Darrien decided to hire the elf as his bodyguard. After all, the elf was strong and carried a massive sword. However, those were only rhetoric arguments he used to convince himself, for the truth is that he was already despaired for help, and the elf was his last hope. After a few minutes of conversation (mostly gesticulation), the elf agreed to travel with the priest. In the end, Darrien was almost certain that the elf (whose name, now he knew, was Lua Azul) had not understood the conversation very well, specially the payment stuff, for the elf did not know what steel pieces meant. And so, after three days on the road, they were stuck with a broken wagon, and neither of them knew how to fix the dam wheel. The last thing the priest wanted was to stay idle on the road, an easy mark for the road robbers… Something had to be done, they couldn’t just stay there waiting for the worst to happen. Something had to be done, and it had to be done fast [/QUOTE]
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