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
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
The Rise of Felskein [Completed]
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="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 4545923" data-attributes="member: 60965"><p>Session 14, Part 1</p><p> </p><p>“Elorn Stoneprow? I think his is that ship over yonder.” The gnome gestured vaguely to the ramshackle docks, full to bursting with all manner of craft – except Steamships, of course. “Heard he deals in metals usually, but somehow got his hands on a boatload of food. Good thing he's got thugs for a crew, 'cause people's already getting hungry round here...”</p><p> </p><p>Kormak turned towards the dock, ignoring the gnome's ramble, drawing a few calls of protest from the gnome as he walked away. </p><p> </p><p>He saw what had to be Elorn, the fat dwarf sitting atop a stack of boxes behind a line of burly looking gnomes, goblins, and all manner of rough and tumble. The crowd pressed up against the crude barrier they had thrown up to keep the hungry gnomes away from their shipload of food. Kormak's eyebrow shot up as he overheard what exorbitant prices they were already charging.</p><p> </p><p>He slipped into the shadows below the docks where ramshackle huts were already springing up. Satisfied he was alone, he pulled out a blank sheet of parchment, pulled up his sleeve, and pressed softly on the quill tattooed on his forearm.</p><p> </p><p><em>He's here, as expected. Continue?</em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek sighed and wiped his brow as what was left of the gnomish nation moved about what passed for streets in the shantytown that had sprung up around Watersprock. Most of them seemed to be wandering around in shock or despair, while a few possessed of more angry and vocal temperaments vented about the Crystal Towers bringing the Ashen Tower down on them. A few whispered curses at Thessalock, though not without many sideways glances as if he was about to step out of the shadows.</p><p> </p><p>Several long, hot, and dusty hours asking about the Crone that Annandor had mentioned had yielded only one lead. After a deep drought from his waterskin, he wiped his mouth and pushed through the mob that filled the dock Elorn's ship was moored against.</p><p> </p><p>“I'm looking for Elorn, may I speak with him?” he said to the goblin that sat scribbling down transactions at the edge of the barricade.</p><p> </p><p>The goblin waved Kezzek off without looking up. “He's busy, bugger off unless you're here to buy something.”</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek stared at him for a long moment, then leaned over the barricade – mostly designed to stop gnomes judging by its height – and slammed his Greywarden gauntlet into the planks the goblin had set up across a couple barrels to create his makeshift desk, sending parchment and ink bottles flying.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” the goblin said, jumping back, half-drawing a long dagger. He took in Kezzek's orcishness and Greywarden gauntlet quickly. His knife was sheathed and Elorn himself stood before Kezzek in under a minute.</p><p> </p><p>“This is your ship?” Kezzek said.</p><p> </p><p>Elorn smirked and rubbed his gray-streaked black beard. Kezzek disliked him immediately. “Yes, full of foodstuffs by way of Port.”</p><p> </p><p>“Port?”</p><p> </p><p>Elorn snorted. “Yeah, they named their port that, bloody Freeholders. Being the primary port of the Freeholds, it changes hands faster than money's changing hands here on this dock.”</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek looked at the despondent and desperate looking gnomes pressing against the barricade, trading the scant treasures they had fled Steamport with, sometimes even the clothes off their backs, just for a few meals. “Fortunate for you that you happened to have a hold full of food and enough guards to protect it...” Kezzek said, tugging at a tusk as he surveyed the ship.</p><p> </p><p>Elorn chuckled. “Not guards, just my crew. But you are right, lucky indeed. Fortune smiles upon me at last. But I'm sure you didn't have my First Mate come get me just to talk the trade.”</p><p> </p><p>“Indeed, no.” Kezzek cleared the local predicament from his mind. “I heard from someone that you know someone who knows of the Crone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ha! That's a roundabout way of finding something out. What's that, fourth-hand information?” The contrast of Elorn's cheery mood to the general mood of Watersprock did little to improved Kezzek's initial impression of the dwarf.</p><p> </p><p>“Regardless of how I came about the information, is it true?”</p><p> </p><p>Elorn scratched his head. “I heard about this captain named Witherleg who supposedly had a gimpy leg cured by her, but that's about it. Haven't seen him in a while though, might well be in Steamport or at the bottom of the Crystal Deeps for all I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm. Is that all you know about the Crone?”</p><p> </p><p>“What does that make it, fifth-hand information now? Ha! Anyway, I'm 'fraid so Greywarden. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a fortune to make here.” Elorn gave the barest of polite nods as he turned back and began yelling at his crew as they lowered another pallet of grain-sacks with the ship-board crane.</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek tugged at a tusk again and growled to himself, then pulled out his journal.</p><p> </p><p><em>One Captain Witherleg may have more information about this “Crone” that Annandor mentioned. Location unknown. Status unknown.</em></p><p> </p><p>He sighed again as he pushed back through the crowd. <em>Chasing rumors of rumors of a ghost...</em></p><p> </p><p><em>***</em></p><p> </p><p>Angelo knelt, whipping his silver-traced longcoat back as he did so. The tracks were fresh, clumps of baked dirt strewn in its wake. He rose and looked toward the horizon, half wondering what calamity wracked the north where the sky burned, the land rumbled, and from whence damp ash rained and coated everything in a dull gray.</p><p> </p><p>He stood and pushed long strands of white hair away from his face, then rested his hands lightly on the rune-traced silver of his pistols.</p><p> </p><p><em>The sooner the hunt is over, the sooner I can leave these strange lands,</em> he thought. <em>When the Huntmaster learns how far I've had to pursue this one and how many have died to it...</em></p><p> </p><p>He shook the thought from his head, sending a black dusting of ash raining from his hair and collar. Just as he was about to continue his pursuit, he noticed a bit of color beside his quarry's trail, half-buried in a drift of ash. The brightly dyed wool sleeve was like many of the others he'd found; torn and blood-spattered, though this one was small, as if from a gnome or a child.</p><p> </p><p>He gritted his teeth and threw it aside and set off at a taxing pace. <em>No more die to you, nightmare,</em> he thought as looked ahead to where its trail met the horizon. <em>No more, if I have to run for three days straight to catch you.</em></p><p> </p><p><em>***</em></p><p> </p><p>Suniel came out of his trance with a start as someone knocked loudly on the door to his carriage. Keeper glanced from the door to Suniel, his sleepless, flickering eyes following Suniel as he stood and pulled his robe on.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it?” he said as he opened the door a crack and peeked through.</p><p> </p><p>Guntl pointed towards the bay. “The food ship, out there where they anchored it in the bay for the night. Was fighting on-board and now it seem the ship's abandoned. The gnomes are heading out to it in anything that floats, heck some are even trying to swim all the way out there.”</p><p> </p><p>Suniel only had to think for a second before he reached a decision. “Guntl, go grab Kezzek and meet us at the dock. Keeper, go find us a boat while I gather my things.”</p><p> </p><p>Guntl nodded and disappeared into the night while Keeper rose and headed out the door. A sudden worrisome thought stopped Suniel as he gathered his things and he put a hand on Keeper's shoulder. The flickering eyes turned to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Don't kill anyone out there. And that goes in general, unless I specify otherwise. Like if we're defending ourselves, understand?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” Keeper said, staring back in his indecipherable, expressionless way until Suniel waved him on.</p><p> </p><p>Suniel hoped that his warning was unneeded, but in some ways it seemed the more time he spent around Keeper, the less he understood him.</p><p> </p><p><em>How can you really know someone – some </em>thing<em> – that doesn't think, whose thoughts are just information pulled from some unknown source out there in the sky somewhere? What is it like to have your thoughts not be your thoughts, but like ten-thousand pages pulled from books in a library that you've never even seen?</em></p><p> </p><p>Then he was on his way to the docks and pushed his contemplations aside. Keeper and Kezzek were waiting for him with a boat they'd found somewhere. They nodded to Suniel as he climbed in and together they made for the ship, hoping to beat a hundred starving gnomes – and the chaos that would likely follow – to the ship.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 4545923, member: 60965"] Session 14, Part 1 “Elorn Stoneprow? I think his is that ship over yonder.” The gnome gestured vaguely to the ramshackle docks, full to bursting with all manner of craft – except Steamships, of course. “Heard he deals in metals usually, but somehow got his hands on a boatload of food. Good thing he's got thugs for a crew, 'cause people's already getting hungry round here...” Kormak turned towards the dock, ignoring the gnome's ramble, drawing a few calls of protest from the gnome as he walked away. He saw what had to be Elorn, the fat dwarf sitting atop a stack of boxes behind a line of burly looking gnomes, goblins, and all manner of rough and tumble. The crowd pressed up against the crude barrier they had thrown up to keep the hungry gnomes away from their shipload of food. Kormak's eyebrow shot up as he overheard what exorbitant prices they were already charging. He slipped into the shadows below the docks where ramshackle huts were already springing up. Satisfied he was alone, he pulled out a blank sheet of parchment, pulled up his sleeve, and pressed softly on the quill tattooed on his forearm. [I]He's here, as expected. Continue?[/I] *** Kezzek sighed and wiped his brow as what was left of the gnomish nation moved about what passed for streets in the shantytown that had sprung up around Watersprock. Most of them seemed to be wandering around in shock or despair, while a few possessed of more angry and vocal temperaments vented about the Crystal Towers bringing the Ashen Tower down on them. A few whispered curses at Thessalock, though not without many sideways glances as if he was about to step out of the shadows. Several long, hot, and dusty hours asking about the Crone that Annandor had mentioned had yielded only one lead. After a deep drought from his waterskin, he wiped his mouth and pushed through the mob that filled the dock Elorn's ship was moored against. “I'm looking for Elorn, may I speak with him?” he said to the goblin that sat scribbling down transactions at the edge of the barricade. The goblin waved Kezzek off without looking up. “He's busy, bugger off unless you're here to buy something.” Kezzek stared at him for a long moment, then leaned over the barricade – mostly designed to stop gnomes judging by its height – and slammed his Greywarden gauntlet into the planks the goblin had set up across a couple barrels to create his makeshift desk, sending parchment and ink bottles flying. “Hey!” the goblin said, jumping back, half-drawing a long dagger. He took in Kezzek's orcishness and Greywarden gauntlet quickly. His knife was sheathed and Elorn himself stood before Kezzek in under a minute. “This is your ship?” Kezzek said. Elorn smirked and rubbed his gray-streaked black beard. Kezzek disliked him immediately. “Yes, full of foodstuffs by way of Port.” “Port?” Elorn snorted. “Yeah, they named their port that, bloody Freeholders. Being the primary port of the Freeholds, it changes hands faster than money's changing hands here on this dock.” Kezzek looked at the despondent and desperate looking gnomes pressing against the barricade, trading the scant treasures they had fled Steamport with, sometimes even the clothes off their backs, just for a few meals. “Fortunate for you that you happened to have a hold full of food and enough guards to protect it...” Kezzek said, tugging at a tusk as he surveyed the ship. Elorn chuckled. “Not guards, just my crew. But you are right, lucky indeed. Fortune smiles upon me at last. But I'm sure you didn't have my First Mate come get me just to talk the trade.” “Indeed, no.” Kezzek cleared the local predicament from his mind. “I heard from someone that you know someone who knows of the Crone.” “Ha! That's a roundabout way of finding something out. What's that, fourth-hand information?” The contrast of Elorn's cheery mood to the general mood of Watersprock did little to improved Kezzek's initial impression of the dwarf. “Regardless of how I came about the information, is it true?” Elorn scratched his head. “I heard about this captain named Witherleg who supposedly had a gimpy leg cured by her, but that's about it. Haven't seen him in a while though, might well be in Steamport or at the bottom of the Crystal Deeps for all I know.” “Hm. Is that all you know about the Crone?” “What does that make it, fifth-hand information now? Ha! Anyway, I'm 'fraid so Greywarden. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a fortune to make here.” Elorn gave the barest of polite nods as he turned back and began yelling at his crew as they lowered another pallet of grain-sacks with the ship-board crane. Kezzek tugged at a tusk again and growled to himself, then pulled out his journal. [I]One Captain Witherleg may have more information about this “Crone” that Annandor mentioned. Location unknown. Status unknown.[/I] He sighed again as he pushed back through the crowd. [I]Chasing rumors of rumors of a ghost...[/I] [I]***[/I] Angelo knelt, whipping his silver-traced longcoat back as he did so. The tracks were fresh, clumps of baked dirt strewn in its wake. He rose and looked toward the horizon, half wondering what calamity wracked the north where the sky burned, the land rumbled, and from whence damp ash rained and coated everything in a dull gray. He stood and pushed long strands of white hair away from his face, then rested his hands lightly on the rune-traced silver of his pistols. [I]The sooner the hunt is over, the sooner I can leave these strange lands,[/I] he thought. [I]When the Huntmaster learns how far I've had to pursue this one and how many have died to it...[/I] He shook the thought from his head, sending a black dusting of ash raining from his hair and collar. Just as he was about to continue his pursuit, he noticed a bit of color beside his quarry's trail, half-buried in a drift of ash. The brightly dyed wool sleeve was like many of the others he'd found; torn and blood-spattered, though this one was small, as if from a gnome or a child. He gritted his teeth and threw it aside and set off at a taxing pace. [I]No more die to you, nightmare,[/I] he thought as looked ahead to where its trail met the horizon. [I]No more, if I have to run for three days straight to catch you.[/I] [I]***[/I] Suniel came out of his trance with a start as someone knocked loudly on the door to his carriage. Keeper glanced from the door to Suniel, his sleepless, flickering eyes following Suniel as he stood and pulled his robe on. “What is it?” he said as he opened the door a crack and peeked through. Guntl pointed towards the bay. “The food ship, out there where they anchored it in the bay for the night. Was fighting on-board and now it seem the ship's abandoned. The gnomes are heading out to it in anything that floats, heck some are even trying to swim all the way out there.” Suniel only had to think for a second before he reached a decision. “Guntl, go grab Kezzek and meet us at the dock. Keeper, go find us a boat while I gather my things.” Guntl nodded and disappeared into the night while Keeper rose and headed out the door. A sudden worrisome thought stopped Suniel as he gathered his things and he put a hand on Keeper's shoulder. The flickering eyes turned to him. “Don't kill anyone out there. And that goes in general, unless I specify otherwise. Like if we're defending ourselves, understand?” “Of course,” Keeper said, staring back in his indecipherable, expressionless way until Suniel waved him on. Suniel hoped that his warning was unneeded, but in some ways it seemed the more time he spent around Keeper, the less he understood him. [I]How can you really know someone – some [/I]thing[I] – that doesn't think, whose thoughts are just information pulled from some unknown source out there in the sky somewhere? What is it like to have your thoughts not be your thoughts, but like ten-thousand pages pulled from books in a library that you've never even seen?[/I] Then he was on his way to the docks and pushed his contemplations aside. Keeper and Kezzek were waiting for him with a boat they'd found somewhere. They nodded to Suniel as he climbed in and together they made for the ship, hoping to beat a hundred starving gnomes – and the chaos that would likely follow – to the ship. [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
The Rise of Felskein [Completed]
Top