Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
The
VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX
is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Community
Playing the Game
Play by Post
[Solo] The Legend of S'Urok
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Sparky" data-source="post: 1592550" data-attributes="member: 13681"><p><span style="font-size: 10px"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="color: red"><strong>The Legend of S'Urok</strong></span></span></span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Moonlight, cold and brittle, falls on the quiet of a sleeping army. Soldiers, tents and palisades all rendered stark in the hard brightness. A wind carrying the scent of tethered mounts, leather and wood smoke shrills through the camp swirling the embers of one small fire. A huddled figure sits close, minding a pot suspended over crackling flames.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Two small points of firelight gleam from within a deep, concealing hood and the figure speaks, voice rich, low and measured, <span style="color: silver">"You have come. Sit."</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Banners snap and pop as the wind gusts. The fire leaps, illuminating the face within the hood. A face best forgotten. The deep voice commands, <span style="color: silver">"Sit!"</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Pinpoints of reflected firelight flare and vanish within the hood and the figure hunches once again, hands plucking weakly at heavy, tattered robes. Through clenched teeth the deep voice grates, <span style="color: silver">"For the brew will soon be ready and you will hear, for the last time, the Legend of S'Urok."</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The fire flares again, bright and hot, searing. Burning into whiteness...</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">**************************************************************</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The sheeting, white snow is blinding, biting. Cold. It is night. The pyre flame leaps and roars as the wind shreds its orange-red tongues, raggedly illuminating the figures that chant and push and crowd as close to the pyre as they dare. The smoke and smell of burning flesh is torn away by the shrieking wind. The dark structure within the flames shifts and embers fly. Orc warriors stretch up their hands to touch the embers, never pausing in their chanting, stamping. Mud at their feet, churned the ice and snow and earth, freezes again as the surging throng passes.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">S'Urok can clearly see the structure within the flame. It is a rough thing, and swiftly made. Jaws, fangs and horn crudely described in wood and rope. Mah-kur Muru-ket. Who will bear the sprits of these warriors to Kamakur. With a great crack the structure shifts again, and a multitude of embers swirl into the sky. The orcs together utter a massive and guttural cheer.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Mourners sob and tear their hair and cut their hands, dripping blood into the ice. Crimson gems of sorrow. The Red Sharks were found dead in the wilderness. They were not the first. Some say that Shark has turned away from Crunching Ships. Abandoned the Crunching Ships clan like Kraken.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Geiti thunders at the bodies wreathed in flame, <span style="color: darkorange">"Red Sharks! Go to Kamakur - to the Dragon!"</span> The orcs surge and howl around Geiti, their chanting growing louder. <span style="color: darkorange">"Shaman!"</span> Geiti roars, <span style="color: darkorange">"Come Shaman - the time is near!"</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The Shaman growls and only S'Urok can hear. S'Urok and his ever-present shadows, Brahga and Stumbin. <span style="color: darkorange">"Yes, my <em>chief</em>."</span> The last word is bitter on Hul'Kilay's tongue. He spits it. The old shaman, deep within his furs, hobbles to the pyre.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">An old battle, that one.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Oblivious, Stumbin's steady stream of words pours forth, <span style="color: paleturquoise">"...and so I suspect that dragons were aquatic creatures once. Given vestigial structures discovered in some more intact specimens... AArrhh!"</span> The bright-eyed gnome cries out and Brahga roughly grabs the small brown hand in his calloused large one. He grins, broken, crooked teeth baring. The old orc bodily swings the gnome around toward S'Urok and shows him the gnome's hand. A bright ember dies on the open palm and Brahga looks at the paragon, <span style="color: darkorange">"Look, S'urok, mashaka, the little one will die a warrior's death after all."</span> Brahga shoves the gnome down and Stumbin mewls, cooling his hand in the snow.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Where Hul'Kilay has been your spiritual guide, Brahga has been your martial one. He is straightforward and direct. There is little of guile or subtlety in this scarred old warhorse. He looks at you, eyes dark, reflecting the leaping flames. </span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"><span style="color: darkorange">"So, mashaka,"</span> begins Brahga, <span style="color: darkorange">"A new militia forms. Under what spirit will you lead it?"</span> His faith that your totem will come to you before the new moon is unquestioning.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">At the pyre Hul'Kilay reaches into the inferno and screams as the flames engulf his hand. He pulls out a flaming spar and draws a sign in the air with it. The symbol of Shark. It glows and the chanting rises. Buoyed on orcish howling it rises and rises, ignoring the sheeting sleet and snow and banshee wind. It rises. And all below, Brahga, and even Stumbin, howl until breath fails them and all can only watch the symbol, breathless, silent, until it disappears from view.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">When it is gone, the flames wink out, vanishing. The pyre is cold, as if the flame had never been. Neither the flame nor the bodies of the fallen orcs. The assemblage departs, moving silently in every direction. Not a word is spoken. Nor will one be until the dawn. The blackened frame sits, jaws shut, sated, dark and skeletal. Snow finally begins to drift up against it.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Hul'Kilay makes his way to you cradling his arm. His eyes bore into yours and he keeps moving. He is headed for the caves. And you are to follow.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Now.</span></p><p> <span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"><a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=88492" target="_blank">OOC</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"><a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?p=1547079#post1547079" target="_blank">RG</a></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sparky, post: 1592550, member: 13681"] [size=2][size=4][color=red][b]The Legend of S'Urok[/b][/color][/size] Moonlight, cold and brittle, falls on the quiet of a sleeping army. Soldiers, tents and palisades all rendered stark in the hard brightness. A wind carrying the scent of tethered mounts, leather and wood smoke shrills through the camp swirling the embers of one small fire. A huddled figure sits close, minding a pot suspended over crackling flames. Two small points of firelight gleam from within a deep, concealing hood and the figure speaks, voice rich, low and measured, [color=silver]"You have come. Sit."[/color] Banners snap and pop as the wind gusts. The fire leaps, illuminating the face within the hood. A face best forgotten. The deep voice commands, [color=silver]"Sit!"[/color] Pinpoints of reflected firelight flare and vanish within the hood and the figure hunches once again, hands plucking weakly at heavy, tattered robes. Through clenched teeth the deep voice grates, [color=silver]"For the brew will soon be ready and you will hear, for the last time, the Legend of S'Urok."[/color] The fire flares again, bright and hot, searing. Burning into whiteness... ************************************************************** The sheeting, white snow is blinding, biting. Cold. It is night. The pyre flame leaps and roars as the wind shreds its orange-red tongues, raggedly illuminating the figures that chant and push and crowd as close to the pyre as they dare. The smoke and smell of burning flesh is torn away by the shrieking wind. The dark structure within the flames shifts and embers fly. Orc warriors stretch up their hands to touch the embers, never pausing in their chanting, stamping. Mud at their feet, churned the ice and snow and earth, freezes again as the surging throng passes. S'Urok can clearly see the structure within the flame. It is a rough thing, and swiftly made. Jaws, fangs and horn crudely described in wood and rope. Mah-kur Muru-ket. Who will bear the sprits of these warriors to Kamakur. With a great crack the structure shifts again, and a multitude of embers swirl into the sky. The orcs together utter a massive and guttural cheer. Mourners sob and tear their hair and cut their hands, dripping blood into the ice. Crimson gems of sorrow. The Red Sharks were found dead in the wilderness. They were not the first. Some say that Shark has turned away from Crunching Ships. Abandoned the Crunching Ships clan like Kraken. Geiti thunders at the bodies wreathed in flame, [color=darkorange]"Red Sharks! Go to Kamakur - to the Dragon!"[/color] The orcs surge and howl around Geiti, their chanting growing louder. [color=darkorange]"Shaman!"[/color] Geiti roars, [color=darkorange]"Come Shaman - the time is near!"[/color] The Shaman growls and only S'Urok can hear. S'Urok and his ever-present shadows, Brahga and Stumbin. [color=darkorange]"Yes, my [i]chief[/i]."[/color] The last word is bitter on Hul'Kilay's tongue. He spits it. The old shaman, deep within his furs, hobbles to the pyre. An old battle, that one. Oblivious, Stumbin's steady stream of words pours forth, [color=paleturquoise]"...and so I suspect that dragons were aquatic creatures once. Given vestigial structures discovered in some more intact specimens... AArrhh!"[/color] The bright-eyed gnome cries out and Brahga roughly grabs the small brown hand in his calloused large one. He grins, broken, crooked teeth baring. The old orc bodily swings the gnome around toward S'Urok and shows him the gnome's hand. A bright ember dies on the open palm and Brahga looks at the paragon, [color=darkorange]"Look, S'urok, mashaka, the little one will die a warrior's death after all."[/color] Brahga shoves the gnome down and Stumbin mewls, cooling his hand in the snow. Where Hul'Kilay has been your spiritual guide, Brahga has been your martial one. He is straightforward and direct. There is little of guile or subtlety in this scarred old warhorse. He looks at you, eyes dark, reflecting the leaping flames. [color=darkorange]"So, mashaka,"[/color] begins Brahga, [color=darkorange]"A new militia forms. Under what spirit will you lead it?"[/color] His faith that your totem will come to you before the new moon is unquestioning. At the pyre Hul'Kilay reaches into the inferno and screams as the flames engulf his hand. He pulls out a flaming spar and draws a sign in the air with it. The symbol of Shark. It glows and the chanting rises. Buoyed on orcish howling it rises and rises, ignoring the sheeting sleet and snow and banshee wind. It rises. And all below, Brahga, and even Stumbin, howl until breath fails them and all can only watch the symbol, breathless, silent, until it disappears from view. When it is gone, the flames wink out, vanishing. The pyre is cold, as if the flame had never been. Neither the flame nor the bodies of the fallen orcs. The assemblage departs, moving silently in every direction. Not a word is spoken. Nor will one be until the dawn. The blackened frame sits, jaws shut, sated, dark and skeletal. Snow finally begins to drift up against it. Hul'Kilay makes his way to you cradling his arm. His eyes bore into yours and he keeps moving. He is headed for the caves. And you are to follow. Now. [url="http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=88492"]OOC[/url] [url="http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?p=1547079#post1547079"]RG[/url][/size] [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Play by Post
[Solo] The Legend of S'Urok
Top