Lars Frehse
First Post
For now, its back into the Hornsaw!
-
The VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX is LIVE! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Struggle and Strife- A scarred lands storyhour
- Thread starter Lars Frehse
- Start date
For now, its back into the Hornsaw!
Lars Frehse
First Post
Back into hell- part 1
In the Ganjus, days go by like a dream and sleep comes like a drug. Days passed by pleasantly, and the friends were invited to the elves' festival of summer.
Trepat, who had talked to a lot of elves during those days, decided that he had to go to Vera Tre, the capitol of the Ganjus and the centre of elven life and culture. He had already heard that many survivors of the Bloodrains woods had come there after the Blood monsoon.
Forty years ago, Trepat's home had been destroyed by the monsoon. Many elves were drowned right then, or killed by the abominations, which had come out of the sea. But others, like him, had somehow survived. However, back then, he had been separated from the others of his clan, the Redleaves.
For the next decade, he had lived in the lands of man, working whatever job enabled him to get by, until he had been hired as a guard in the village of Oreirover. There, he had found a new purpose in his life, when he had saved three kids from the Calastians and discovered his own potential to master arcane magic.
Ever since then, he had found new friends and new tasks for his life. Having been accepted by the Gravelfists, he had even found a new identity, but still he had never forgotten about his people.
Three days after the solstice, Tirnonius, the old half-elven druid who had warned them about the significance of the Grove of the Mother approached him. Trepat was just packing his bags onto his mount, but when he saw the druid, he stopped and waved in greetings.
"So, I see you are getting ready to move on?" Tirnonius asked, stroking the mane of Trepat's horse.
Trepat nodded:" Yes. I want to go to Vera Tre. And since the others are now officially "Blessed Ones of the Mother", they wanted to come along. I hope that I will find members of my clan there."
The old druid already knew Trepat's story, and he answered:" Your clan is why I came here. I have travelled to Vera Tre, and found out that your sister Yorivana is still alive and well there!"
There were no words for Trepat to express his joy and acting on an impulse, he embraced the druid. After a while, he wrapped his hands around the old man's right hand. "That is great news. Thank you for telling me."
Trepat looked into Tirnonius' eyes, and to his surprise, he didn't saw his own joy mirrored there, but worries instead. "Is anything wrong?“ he asked.
"Hopefully not. But I found out about more of your clan. About three dozens of Redleaves have moved on. They had decided to move to the Hornsaw. There, they wanted to join a local tribe, called the Butterfly-clan. However, we have gotten word from the Butterflies that your clans people have never arrived, even though they are overdue for weeks now."
Remembering the horrors of the Hornsaw, Trepat said: "That doesn't sound good at all. Is anyone investigating their disappearance?"
"I am afraid not.“ the druid answered, shaking his head. "As a matter of fact, we were wondering whether you would look for them."
"Of course. But I will have to ask my companions whether they will come along, I can not speak for them".
His companions agreed. Even though they dreaded the Hornsaw, all of them wanted to help their friend. The old druid told them where the Butterfly clan was living in the northwestern part of the Hornsaw, and on the next day, after the druids had magically transported them to the edge of the Ganjus, they were once again crossing the Haggard Hills on their way to the Hornsaw.
It was even hotter and more desolate now than the last time, and at noon, the sun was almost right above them, and they cast hardly any shadows. As the sun set on the second day, promising the cool of night at last, after unbearable hours of scorching heat, they were attacked by a pack of what looked like deformed horse-sized hyenas.
Trepat recognized them as Abyssal Ravagers, a life form that had descended from hyenas and far more exotic entities from the depths of the Abyss, and he knew that the true danger of those creatures lay not in their powerful jaws or their razor-sharp claws, but in their poisonous sting, which protruded from their over length tails.
The companions spurred on their horses, but the predators from hell were faster, more agile and powerful than their steeds. They stung Niklas and Torn, severely poisoning them, but eventually, Trepat succeeded in frying them with his lightning, and with that aid, his friends were able to defeat the creatures, even in their weakened state.
At night, they nursed their wounds and injuries, and after two more days, they finally saw the Hornsaw looming in front of them again. Again, the ground had a muddy feeling to it, there was the smell of rotting meat, the plants were twisted, and somewhere far away and there were the screams of tortured creatures. But in spite of all this, they felt that here, something was different.
The plants weren't quite as twisted and the stench here wasn't quite as bad as it had been in the east. For all that it was worth, it seemed that the work of the local elves had lead to an improvement. This improvement was hard to be seen, and it was still a horrible and twisted place, but all in all here too there was change and a slow and steady healing of the lands.
The heat here was humid and oppressive, and the constant green roof of leaves above them offered little coolness. There was hardly a breeze and mosquitoes, lampreys and other bloodsucking parasites were everywhere.
By the time they settled down for the night, they were all stung and bitten many times. Niklas was the first on watch, and as he prepared a little fire for the night, two elves stepped out of the foliage. They were a man and a woman, both were scarcely clad and tattooed like Trepat and they held bows with small, razor sharp blades at the tips in their hands.
The woman addressed Niklas in what appeared to be elvish, but since Niklas didn't speak the language, he called for Trepat who came crawling out of the tent. Upon seeing a fellow wood-elf, the two locals relaxed noticeably, although they still held their bows ready.
The woman now turned to Trepat, asking him in the elvish tongue:" I have asked your ugly friend, and now I am asking you: What do you want in our part of the forest?"
Trepat opened his hands and held them away in an apologetic fashion:" I am sorry about the intrusion, but we did not know how to contact you. I am a Redleaf, and my friends and me came to search for a group of members of my clan who had come to join the Butterflies in their struggle to purify the Hornsaw forest."
A shadow of anger flashed over the elves faces, but the woman said:" We don't call our home that name. For us it is still the Broadreach. As a matter of fact, the name you use is an insult for us, but since you are a stranger, we will forgive you.
" We both are members of the Butterflies, and it is as you say: we have been expecting members of the Redleaves, but now we have a horrible suspicion. One of our druids had asked the plants and animals at the edge of the forest, and we are now certain, that they had entered the forest. At that time, it seems there had been a patrol of undead and necromancers nearby, and we fear that those vile defilers had captured the newcomers.“ the woman explained, while her companion remained silent and still all the time, merely moving his eyes to have a piercing look at each the heroes, one by one.
Trepat, who had been translating so far, stopped now:" Necromancers and Undead? But where could they have taken them?"
Now the Elven woman said only two words, and this time, even though Trepat had ceased to translate, all of them understood. For this time, it was the name of a place, a place about which all of them had heard horrible stories. She said:" Glivid Autel."
In the Ganjus, days go by like a dream and sleep comes like a drug. Days passed by pleasantly, and the friends were invited to the elves' festival of summer.
Trepat, who had talked to a lot of elves during those days, decided that he had to go to Vera Tre, the capitol of the Ganjus and the centre of elven life and culture. He had already heard that many survivors of the Bloodrains woods had come there after the Blood monsoon.
Forty years ago, Trepat's home had been destroyed by the monsoon. Many elves were drowned right then, or killed by the abominations, which had come out of the sea. But others, like him, had somehow survived. However, back then, he had been separated from the others of his clan, the Redleaves.
For the next decade, he had lived in the lands of man, working whatever job enabled him to get by, until he had been hired as a guard in the village of Oreirover. There, he had found a new purpose in his life, when he had saved three kids from the Calastians and discovered his own potential to master arcane magic.
Ever since then, he had found new friends and new tasks for his life. Having been accepted by the Gravelfists, he had even found a new identity, but still he had never forgotten about his people.
Three days after the solstice, Tirnonius, the old half-elven druid who had warned them about the significance of the Grove of the Mother approached him. Trepat was just packing his bags onto his mount, but when he saw the druid, he stopped and waved in greetings.
"So, I see you are getting ready to move on?" Tirnonius asked, stroking the mane of Trepat's horse.
Trepat nodded:" Yes. I want to go to Vera Tre. And since the others are now officially "Blessed Ones of the Mother", they wanted to come along. I hope that I will find members of my clan there."
The old druid already knew Trepat's story, and he answered:" Your clan is why I came here. I have travelled to Vera Tre, and found out that your sister Yorivana is still alive and well there!"
There were no words for Trepat to express his joy and acting on an impulse, he embraced the druid. After a while, he wrapped his hands around the old man's right hand. "That is great news. Thank you for telling me."
Trepat looked into Tirnonius' eyes, and to his surprise, he didn't saw his own joy mirrored there, but worries instead. "Is anything wrong?“ he asked.
"Hopefully not. But I found out about more of your clan. About three dozens of Redleaves have moved on. They had decided to move to the Hornsaw. There, they wanted to join a local tribe, called the Butterfly-clan. However, we have gotten word from the Butterflies that your clans people have never arrived, even though they are overdue for weeks now."
Remembering the horrors of the Hornsaw, Trepat said: "That doesn't sound good at all. Is anyone investigating their disappearance?"
"I am afraid not.“ the druid answered, shaking his head. "As a matter of fact, we were wondering whether you would look for them."
"Of course. But I will have to ask my companions whether they will come along, I can not speak for them".
His companions agreed. Even though they dreaded the Hornsaw, all of them wanted to help their friend. The old druid told them where the Butterfly clan was living in the northwestern part of the Hornsaw, and on the next day, after the druids had magically transported them to the edge of the Ganjus, they were once again crossing the Haggard Hills on their way to the Hornsaw.
It was even hotter and more desolate now than the last time, and at noon, the sun was almost right above them, and they cast hardly any shadows. As the sun set on the second day, promising the cool of night at last, after unbearable hours of scorching heat, they were attacked by a pack of what looked like deformed horse-sized hyenas.
Trepat recognized them as Abyssal Ravagers, a life form that had descended from hyenas and far more exotic entities from the depths of the Abyss, and he knew that the true danger of those creatures lay not in their powerful jaws or their razor-sharp claws, but in their poisonous sting, which protruded from their over length tails.
The companions spurred on their horses, but the predators from hell were faster, more agile and powerful than their steeds. They stung Niklas and Torn, severely poisoning them, but eventually, Trepat succeeded in frying them with his lightning, and with that aid, his friends were able to defeat the creatures, even in their weakened state.
At night, they nursed their wounds and injuries, and after two more days, they finally saw the Hornsaw looming in front of them again. Again, the ground had a muddy feeling to it, there was the smell of rotting meat, the plants were twisted, and somewhere far away and there were the screams of tortured creatures. But in spite of all this, they felt that here, something was different.
The plants weren't quite as twisted and the stench here wasn't quite as bad as it had been in the east. For all that it was worth, it seemed that the work of the local elves had lead to an improvement. This improvement was hard to be seen, and it was still a horrible and twisted place, but all in all here too there was change and a slow and steady healing of the lands.
The heat here was humid and oppressive, and the constant green roof of leaves above them offered little coolness. There was hardly a breeze and mosquitoes, lampreys and other bloodsucking parasites were everywhere.
By the time they settled down for the night, they were all stung and bitten many times. Niklas was the first on watch, and as he prepared a little fire for the night, two elves stepped out of the foliage. They were a man and a woman, both were scarcely clad and tattooed like Trepat and they held bows with small, razor sharp blades at the tips in their hands.
The woman addressed Niklas in what appeared to be elvish, but since Niklas didn't speak the language, he called for Trepat who came crawling out of the tent. Upon seeing a fellow wood-elf, the two locals relaxed noticeably, although they still held their bows ready.
The woman now turned to Trepat, asking him in the elvish tongue:" I have asked your ugly friend, and now I am asking you: What do you want in our part of the forest?"
Trepat opened his hands and held them away in an apologetic fashion:" I am sorry about the intrusion, but we did not know how to contact you. I am a Redleaf, and my friends and me came to search for a group of members of my clan who had come to join the Butterflies in their struggle to purify the Hornsaw forest."
A shadow of anger flashed over the elves faces, but the woman said:" We don't call our home that name. For us it is still the Broadreach. As a matter of fact, the name you use is an insult for us, but since you are a stranger, we will forgive you.
" We both are members of the Butterflies, and it is as you say: we have been expecting members of the Redleaves, but now we have a horrible suspicion. One of our druids had asked the plants and animals at the edge of the forest, and we are now certain, that they had entered the forest. At that time, it seems there had been a patrol of undead and necromancers nearby, and we fear that those vile defilers had captured the newcomers.“ the woman explained, while her companion remained silent and still all the time, merely moving his eyes to have a piercing look at each the heroes, one by one.
Trepat, who had been translating so far, stopped now:" Necromancers and Undead? But where could they have taken them?"
Now the Elven woman said only two words, and this time, even though Trepat had ceased to translate, all of them understood. For this time, it was the name of a place, a place about which all of them had heard horrible stories. She said:" Glivid Autel."
Nightfall
Sage of the Scarred Lands
Re: Back into hell- part 1
Glivid Autel!
My home away from home! Boy those guys must be thirsting for corpses these days. Can't wait to see what they've been up to. Think also maybe someone better call in a Hollowfaustian cause it sound like they might need him/her.
Lars Frehse said:
Glivid Autel!
My home away from home! Boy those guys must be thirsting for corpses these days. Can't wait to see what they've been up to. Think also maybe someone better call in a Hollowfaustian cause it sound like they might need him/her. Lars Frehse
First Post
Re: Re: Back into hell- part 1
For some strange reason, they eventually did decide to go to Hollowfaust, but as a place for VACATION!!!!
I don't want to put any spoilers here, but you will soon see what I mean...
Anyway, the heroes right away realized that they would have to act as they had done with the Annot Kalambath- dash in quickly and then head out even quicker!
(And those were really enough spoilers for now, I think)
Nightfall said:
Glivid Autel!
For some strange reason, they eventually did decide to go to Hollowfaust, but as a place for VACATION!!!!
I don't want to put any spoilers here, but you will soon see what I mean...
Anyway, the heroes right away realized that they would have to act as they had done with the Annot Kalambath- dash in quickly and then head out even quicker!
(And those were really enough spoilers for now, I think
)Lars Frehse
First Post
Back into Hell- part 2
His teacher had told Niklas about Glivid Autel, and he knew that the story of this place couldn't be told without the story of another place: Hollowfaust. Originally, there had been a gleaming and busy city at the place where Hollowfaust, the city of necromancers, had originally been founded. Then, at some point before the Titanswar, it had been devastated when it had been covered with the lava and ashes of the volcano that towered over it. However, the same force that had been the city’s doom had also preserved the buildings and corpses under a protective layer of ashes.
Hollowfaust remained a dead place until shortly after the Titanswar a group of Necromancers arrived. These masters of the arcane arts animated the skeletal remnants of the former inhabitants of the place to dig out parts of the city again. While doing so, however, war-refugees and others who were made homeless in the war or it's turbulent aftermath arrived, and soon Hollowfaust turned into a real city again, with citizens both dead and undead and Necromancers as its rulers.
However, for some of these new rulers, that power was not enough. They wanted more and they did not want to be hampered by the laws the strict but fair masters of death had established for themselves.
When it came to describing what exactly had happened then, Brother William had to confess that he didn't know exactly- something that rarely happened with a man who easily fell victim to the sin of pride when it came to his encompassing knowledge. But a number of selfish and evil necromancers were expelled from Hollowfaust after some acts which their former companions wanted to punish but stay secret nonetheless.
These Necromancers in turn founded a city themselves. There, in the western part of the Hornsaw, on top of another ruined city, they built a place where they had to follow no rules and could commit whatever vile acts and morbid experiments their cold and evil minds could think of. And this was where the Redleaves had been taken.
"Does this mean that they are dead?" Trepat asked the two Butterflies.
For the first time, the male elf spoke, his voice deep and grating and resonating with hatred: " No, not necessarily. The wizards of Glivid Autel crave power, and in order to feel powerful, they entertain a people of slaves. For this, they catch free people, break them and turn them into slaves. Those who get killed, die of the harsh circumstances or who can't be broken, those are turned into undead servants.
"But this means that some of the Red Leaves may still be alive. Probably they are close to starvation and wasting away in some dark hole in the rock on which their city was erected. If you want to go there, we will lead you to the Broadreach River, from where it will be merely a dozen miles to Glivid Autel."
Trepat translated the elf's offer, wondering just how he had gotten those detailed informations, and once he was sure that all of his friends were ready to come along, he gratefully accepted.
"Good then," the woman said. "You better get some sleep now so that we can get going first thing in the morning."
Three days later, they had reached the eastern shore of the Broadreach River. By then, the friends had come to know their guides a little better. The woman was called Zona, the man Redoran and they were rangers of the Butterfly clan. When he had been younger, Redoran had been captured by the necromancers of Glivid Autel, but with luck and ingenuity, he had escaped from there, learning one important lesson in the process: The divine races where just as likely to be cruel and evil as any Titanspawn.
"This is as far as we can take you", Zona said as they looked over to the forest on the other side of the Broadreach River. "Our territory ends here. But here, the river is shallow enough for you to cross it safely, and we will be here with more members of our tribe when you return, in case you are being followed. May Madriel have mercy with you"
The companions said goodbye and waded through the river. On the other side, it was obvious that they were still in the Hornsaw-forest, and it looked even worse here than on the eastern shore. Looking back once more and waving to their guides, they stepped forward, soon being surrounded by lush and twisted vegetation once again.
After a while, they strongly felt the absence of their guides. They were able to move in the right direction, mostly thanks to Trepat's raven who gave them directions by looking down at the forest from high above, but still they felt uneasy.
Torn felt as if unseen and hostile eyes were watching them, and as if the entire forest wanted to see them dead. The trees seemed to be reaching out to claw into their clothes and flesh at every opportunity and the shadows seemed to be moving. But, hey, now that Torn was looking again: really- the shadows were moving; at least the one of Niklas seemed to have developed a life of his own.
For a few moments Torn kept watching. This shadow here was definitely alive and acting on a will of it's own, even though it was connected to Niklas’ shape, just like a real shadow would be, but there were no indications of a slarecian shadow- no long neck and no spined ridge on the forehead. Silently, he pulled out his magical spiked chain, and then, as he slashed down at the living shadow, he cried out a warning.
His chain hit nothing but the murky ground, but right away, Niklas felt an immense force pulling his limbs, like a puppeteer pulling his strings- while was the puppet. He struggled and fought back, as he and the shadow were caught in a battle for control of his body.
As Niklas resisted the strange shadow, four three-dimensional shadows stepped forward, separating themselves from the general darkness amidst the trees. These too attacked the companions.
His teacher had told Niklas about Glivid Autel, and he knew that the story of this place couldn't be told without the story of another place: Hollowfaust. Originally, there had been a gleaming and busy city at the place where Hollowfaust, the city of necromancers, had originally been founded. Then, at some point before the Titanswar, it had been devastated when it had been covered with the lava and ashes of the volcano that towered over it. However, the same force that had been the city’s doom had also preserved the buildings and corpses under a protective layer of ashes.
Hollowfaust remained a dead place until shortly after the Titanswar a group of Necromancers arrived. These masters of the arcane arts animated the skeletal remnants of the former inhabitants of the place to dig out parts of the city again. While doing so, however, war-refugees and others who were made homeless in the war or it's turbulent aftermath arrived, and soon Hollowfaust turned into a real city again, with citizens both dead and undead and Necromancers as its rulers.
However, for some of these new rulers, that power was not enough. They wanted more and they did not want to be hampered by the laws the strict but fair masters of death had established for themselves.
When it came to describing what exactly had happened then, Brother William had to confess that he didn't know exactly- something that rarely happened with a man who easily fell victim to the sin of pride when it came to his encompassing knowledge. But a number of selfish and evil necromancers were expelled from Hollowfaust after some acts which their former companions wanted to punish but stay secret nonetheless.
These Necromancers in turn founded a city themselves. There, in the western part of the Hornsaw, on top of another ruined city, they built a place where they had to follow no rules and could commit whatever vile acts and morbid experiments their cold and evil minds could think of. And this was where the Redleaves had been taken.
"Does this mean that they are dead?" Trepat asked the two Butterflies.
For the first time, the male elf spoke, his voice deep and grating and resonating with hatred: " No, not necessarily. The wizards of Glivid Autel crave power, and in order to feel powerful, they entertain a people of slaves. For this, they catch free people, break them and turn them into slaves. Those who get killed, die of the harsh circumstances or who can't be broken, those are turned into undead servants.
"But this means that some of the Red Leaves may still be alive. Probably they are close to starvation and wasting away in some dark hole in the rock on which their city was erected. If you want to go there, we will lead you to the Broadreach River, from where it will be merely a dozen miles to Glivid Autel."
Trepat translated the elf's offer, wondering just how he had gotten those detailed informations, and once he was sure that all of his friends were ready to come along, he gratefully accepted.
"Good then," the woman said. "You better get some sleep now so that we can get going first thing in the morning."
Three days later, they had reached the eastern shore of the Broadreach River. By then, the friends had come to know their guides a little better. The woman was called Zona, the man Redoran and they were rangers of the Butterfly clan. When he had been younger, Redoran had been captured by the necromancers of Glivid Autel, but with luck and ingenuity, he had escaped from there, learning one important lesson in the process: The divine races where just as likely to be cruel and evil as any Titanspawn.
"This is as far as we can take you", Zona said as they looked over to the forest on the other side of the Broadreach River. "Our territory ends here. But here, the river is shallow enough for you to cross it safely, and we will be here with more members of our tribe when you return, in case you are being followed. May Madriel have mercy with you"
The companions said goodbye and waded through the river. On the other side, it was obvious that they were still in the Hornsaw-forest, and it looked even worse here than on the eastern shore. Looking back once more and waving to their guides, they stepped forward, soon being surrounded by lush and twisted vegetation once again.
After a while, they strongly felt the absence of their guides. They were able to move in the right direction, mostly thanks to Trepat's raven who gave them directions by looking down at the forest from high above, but still they felt uneasy.
Torn felt as if unseen and hostile eyes were watching them, and as if the entire forest wanted to see them dead. The trees seemed to be reaching out to claw into their clothes and flesh at every opportunity and the shadows seemed to be moving. But, hey, now that Torn was looking again: really- the shadows were moving; at least the one of Niklas seemed to have developed a life of his own.
For a few moments Torn kept watching. This shadow here was definitely alive and acting on a will of it's own, even though it was connected to Niklas’ shape, just like a real shadow would be, but there were no indications of a slarecian shadow- no long neck and no spined ridge on the forehead. Silently, he pulled out his magical spiked chain, and then, as he slashed down at the living shadow, he cried out a warning.
His chain hit nothing but the murky ground, but right away, Niklas felt an immense force pulling his limbs, like a puppeteer pulling his strings- while was the puppet. He struggled and fought back, as he and the shadow were caught in a battle for control of his body.
As Niklas resisted the strange shadow, four three-dimensional shadows stepped forward, separating themselves from the general darkness amidst the trees. These too attacked the companions.
Black_Kaioshin
First Post
Hello all!! I've been creepying in the shadows for a while now. I just wanted to say cool storyhour, Lars.
Lars Frehse
First Post
Black Kaioshin, thanks for the compliment. I try to do my best.
Nightfall, I am sorry it took me so long. Things had been busy at work and in my life, but I hope that I will be able to update the story hour more frequently now.
So here is the next update!
I try to do my best.Nightfall, I am sorry it took me so long. Things had been busy at work and in my life, but I hope that I will be able to update the story hour more frequently now.
So here is the next update!
