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The Rise of Felskein [Completed]
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<blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 4574901" data-attributes="member: 60965"><p>Session 14, Part 4</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“You made how much?”</p><p> </p><p>“Maaaaster,” No Tongue said, proudly showing off his handfuls of coin.</p><p> </p><p>“Little runt made more selling those wooden statues of his than Lunt and I did keeping those gnomes away from Master Elorn's food. Gnomes think they're good luck or something,” Stabber said, eying No Tongue's new-found wealth.</p><p> </p><p>“Don't touch it, it's his,” Suniel said, picking up a statue that looked remarkably like Kezzek. “This is really good. Wait, you were working for Elorn?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, till he bought it,” Stabber said, drawing a finger across his throat and glancing at the forgotten coins that littered the dirt about No Tongue's feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Don't even think about it Stabber,” Guntl said, walking over to the impromptu gathering by the Carriage. "He made a carving for Shruka and I too. I asked him if he could carve a sign for our makeshift healing and husbandry business, made us this instead.”</p><p> </p><p>Keeper shot his hand out and caught whatever it was Guntl tossed to Suniel. They all stared at the sudden almost violent motion. Keeper held whatever-it-was for a second then slowly lowered his arm and handed a little carving to Suniel. It was a finely detailed turtle with what looked like remarkably like the Black Carriage on its back.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh,” Suniel said as he examined it. “He's got an imagination at least.”</p><p>Harold strode up to the group, quickly finding Suniel. “Council meeting at sunset, by the old mill,” he said. He nodded once to Suniel and walked away.</p><p> </p><p>Suniel glanced at the rapidly descending sun. “There's a council?” He tossed the turtle back to Guntl. “Guess I'll see you all later. Apparently I've a council meeting to attend.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“So I'm staying behind,” Ambassador Stevens said, motioning for Harold to sit back down. “Now now, there's not much for me to do at the Crystal Towers, but there's plenty for me to do here.”</p><p> </p><p>“What can you do here for the Crystal Towers? Their nation is destroyed,” Harold said.</p><p> </p><p>“I can do the same thing I've been doing the last few days. Not much left of the gnomes, like you say, but allies are allies and these ones lost everything just for becoming ours. How would it look to any future allies to see this, hear about it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose,” Harold said, looking out at the hundreds of camp and cook fires burning across Watersprock. “I've been doing what I can to convince them it was the Ashen Tower that made all this happen, not the Crystal Towers.”</p><p> </p><p>“That too,” Stevens said. “And just maybe I can take what's left of them and help make them into allies worth having again. Feel kinda guilty about what happened – I mean, reports have come in. There's <em>nothing</em> left of what they had; Watersprock is it and they don't even know why it's still standing. Said the fire roared right up to the walls, but then just... went away.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who knows. Maybe they just got lucky.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe. Anyway, I think this council meeting was good. Food from the ship by the Greywarden's orders, permanent council here with me as adviser, the wizard's town layout plans, your militia training. I'm glad you are all sticking around for a few more days at least.”</p><p> </p><p>Harold nodded. “We need a few days to get a crew together. I'm also thinking about heading to Steamport, see what happened there with my own eyes. Remember for when we pay the Ashen Tower back.”</p><p> </p><p>“I'll leave that part to you at least,” Stevens said, shaking his head. “I hope I never see anything like Steamport again.”</p><p> </p><p>They turned and looked to the east, still aflame, like a second sunset on the wrong horizon.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“We're ready to sail first thing tomorrow,” Ragnen said, grinning at Kezzek.</p><p>“Found you a crew like I said I would. Now there's one last position that needs to be filled and I was thinking that I would make a-”</p><p> </p><p>“I'm Captain,” Keeper said, walking past them onto the ship. Kezzek, Suniel, and Ragnen watched him head to the aft-castle, the gnomes still pulling food from the hold giving him wide berth.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay then, I guess that solves that,” Ragnen said with a wry grin. “When do we leave?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tomorrow morning,” Harold said, walking down the dock to join them. “If we're agreed that we're going to investigate Steamport, no time to waste before we get to it. Been here in Watersprock for three days already and I for one would like to get back to our journey. Long way to go to get to Crystal Towers yet and Steamport is at least half-a-day's sailing in the wrong direction.”</p><p> </p><p>Suniel turned to Ragnen. “You heard the man. Tomorrow morning it is.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It was almost sunset by the time they reached what was left of Steamport. As they disembarked onto the one somewhat-intact dock, they all stared in awe at the raw elemental carnage above them.</p><p> </p><p>A constant waterfall ran down the entire north face of the plateau upon which Steamport was situated, enough water that even from hundreds of feet away they could hear its roar. In the east was a giant pillar of fire that seemed to reach into the clouds, burning through even the black smoke that still rose from the rest of the city. In the west, a giant tornado whirled and turned, sending debris raining down constantly amidst the ash and mingling its roar with the waterfalls. Rock and mudslides seemed to be a near-constant thing, frequent earthquakes large and small shaking the plateau apart rock by rock.</p><p> </p><p>“I'll scout ahead,” Kormak said, not waiting for a reply before ducking low and moving quickly down the dock. The dock itself was warped and buckled and he had to leap here and there to get past the larger gaps.</p><p></p><p>Eventually, he found himself on the rubble-strewn shore, clambering over broken masonry and loose stone, twisted metal, and broken, smoldering wooden beams. When a roughly humanoid watery shape suddenly rose up from the crevice he was contemplating jumping, he nearly lost his footing.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it that comes to the cursed hill?” it said, its voice nearly indistinguishable from the roar of the waterfalls. “Does it come to fight the fires?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, nope. That is, not expressly,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“Why does it come then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, it comes to see what the hell is going on here. That's what it comes to see.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then this goes,” it said. Before he could reply, it disappeared back into the crevice with a soft splash.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that was different,” Kormak said to nothing in particular. Then he turned and headed back to the ship.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Suniel approached Steamport from the south, working his way carefully up the cracked cliffs and constantly rumbling and shifting scree that was the whole southern side of the Steamport plateau. He was almost a third of the way up when a huge boulder suddenly detached from where it rested near a distant rocky escarpment and hurled down towards him.</p><p> </p><p>Scrambling, he tried to get out of its path, but it seemed to shift its course to follow whichever way he went. <em>It's an elemental</em>, he realized suddenly as it was almost upon him. Instantly, he supplicated himself, grabbing a handful of coins from his robe and pressing them into the dirt in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>The boulder's flying tumble stopped abruptly three feet from his head.</p><p>Tentatively, he rose to his knees, then his feet. “Hello?” he said.</p><p> </p><p>It sat like the boulder it was. He tried again in elvish. And dwarven. And on through all the languages he knew.</p><p> </p><p>When he reached gnomish, he just barely was able to hurl himself out of the way as it suddenly rolled over, slamming into the dirt where he had been standing and sending rocky debris, ash, and dust flying.</p><p> </p><p>He prostrated himself again, groveling in the rocks at the base of the boulder and pressing more coins into the dirt.</p><p> </p><p>It went still again and he remained on his stomach, at an impasse. </p><p></p><p>And there they sat.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Lava flowed not ten feet from where Harold's horse's hooves clattered on the hard black lava-flows. He wrapped another cloth about his face to ward off the smoke and burning sulfurous fumes that rose from all about the western side of the plateau.</p><p> </p><p>When he stopped for a moment to figure out his route onwards, his horse suddenly whinnied, kicked, and sidestepped. He spun about, bow and arrow in hand in a heartbeat, and saw a bit of flame, no larger than a torch-flame, floating in the hot wind behind his horse. It flickered and shifted, darting to one side of him, then another, burning a bit of his cloak, then his horses tail, then nearly burning off some hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa there, little flame-thing,” he said, putting his bow away and raising his hands. “Look, I come peacefully.”</p><p> </p><p>It didn't seem to understand, still darting here and there, sending little licks of flame across clothing and skin. Then he had an idea. He pulled out his waterskin, pulled the stopper, and upended it onto the hot ground. The water came out in a dozen large <em>chugs</em>, sending steam billowing up off the rocks. When he turned to see the thing's reaction, he had to duck to avoid getting his face burned off. </p><p> </p><p>His horse bucked as the flame moved about them as if in a frenzy, burning where before it had singed. “Whoa, stop!” he said. After another near-miss with his face, he snarled and his great sword flew from its sheathe to split the flame in half, apparently putting out whatever life-spark kept the the thing burning. It drifted down in ash about him.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The cliff was nearly sheer and irregular winds blasted down its face, but Kezzek had found a chimney that he thought might be climbable. Making sure all his gear was securely fastened on his back, he began the ascent, bracing one leg on each side of the large crack and slowly working his way up.</p><p> </p><p>He had gotten almost thirty vertical feet when suddenly the wind gusted so strongly that his arms slipped off the smooth, wind-carved rock. Frantically, he tried to brace himself with his feet, but they too slipped. He landed on his back, gear clanking and crunching in his pack as he landed on it.</p><p> </p><p>By the time he had recovered his breath and was back on his feet, he noticed a dust devil whipping across the scree at the base of the cliff and meandering towards him. When the edge of it was just rippling into his clothing, he nodded to it and motioned to the scree.</p><p> </p><p>“Rock,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but it seemed to blow more strongly.</p><p> </p><p>He pointed at it again and said, “Rock bad?” He kicked a rock.</p><p> </p><p>In response, the dust devil's winds strengthened, forming a small tornado. Rock chips and debris flew all about him and glanced sharply off his face and hands, but he made sure to not even wince. He picked up two rocks and smashed them together. The winds spun faster and faster as he repeated the performance.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, it had apparently seen enough. It engulfed him and he felt the ground fall away from under his feet. He tumbled like a rag doll inside it as it carried him away.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Kormak peered into the crevice again. “Hello there? Water thingy, you there?”</p><p> </p><p>He called for several minutes before it appeared again. “What does it want?” it gurgled.</p><p> </p><p>“It wants to see the big water. Water leader or elder or lake or whatever you call it,” Kormak said. “What do you think I want, to sit here in this ruin talking with a ambulatory stream?”</p><p> </p><p>“Does it speak in water-speak?” it said. Then it frothed up and blew what he thought of as a misting of spit across him.</p><p> </p><p>“What's the big deal?”</p><p> </p><p>It did it again, thoroughly dampening him. “Alright, I didn't come here to get soaked by a spit elemental. Go bugger off!”</p><p> </p><p>He stormed off to his tent and called his dog over. “Hmph. Maybe the others will have better luck with theirs, 'Cause I'm done with mine. It spit on me, Dog, can you believe it?”</p><p> </p><p>As usual, Dog didn't reply, just wagged his tail and lick the elemental spray off Kormak's hands.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 4574901, member: 60965"] Session 14, Part 4 “You made how much?” “Maaaaster,” No Tongue said, proudly showing off his handfuls of coin. “Little runt made more selling those wooden statues of his than Lunt and I did keeping those gnomes away from Master Elorn's food. Gnomes think they're good luck or something,” Stabber said, eying No Tongue's new-found wealth. “Don't touch it, it's his,” Suniel said, picking up a statue that looked remarkably like Kezzek. “This is really good. Wait, you were working for Elorn?” “Yeah, till he bought it,” Stabber said, drawing a finger across his throat and glancing at the forgotten coins that littered the dirt about No Tongue's feet. “Don't even think about it Stabber,” Guntl said, walking over to the impromptu gathering by the Carriage. "He made a carving for Shruka and I too. I asked him if he could carve a sign for our makeshift healing and husbandry business, made us this instead.” Keeper shot his hand out and caught whatever it was Guntl tossed to Suniel. They all stared at the sudden almost violent motion. Keeper held whatever-it-was for a second then slowly lowered his arm and handed a little carving to Suniel. It was a finely detailed turtle with what looked like remarkably like the Black Carriage on its back. “Huh,” Suniel said as he examined it. “He's got an imagination at least.” Harold strode up to the group, quickly finding Suniel. “Council meeting at sunset, by the old mill,” he said. He nodded once to Suniel and walked away. Suniel glanced at the rapidly descending sun. “There's a council?” He tossed the turtle back to Guntl. “Guess I'll see you all later. Apparently I've a council meeting to attend.” *** “So I'm staying behind,” Ambassador Stevens said, motioning for Harold to sit back down. “Now now, there's not much for me to do at the Crystal Towers, but there's plenty for me to do here.” “What can you do here for the Crystal Towers? Their nation is destroyed,” Harold said. “I can do the same thing I've been doing the last few days. Not much left of the gnomes, like you say, but allies are allies and these ones lost everything just for becoming ours. How would it look to any future allies to see this, hear about it?” “I suppose,” Harold said, looking out at the hundreds of camp and cook fires burning across Watersprock. “I've been doing what I can to convince them it was the Ashen Tower that made all this happen, not the Crystal Towers.” “That too,” Stevens said. “And just maybe I can take what's left of them and help make them into allies worth having again. Feel kinda guilty about what happened – I mean, reports have come in. There's [I]nothing[/I] left of what they had; Watersprock is it and they don't even know why it's still standing. Said the fire roared right up to the walls, but then just... went away.” “Who knows. Maybe they just got lucky.” “Maybe. Anyway, I think this council meeting was good. Food from the ship by the Greywarden's orders, permanent council here with me as adviser, the wizard's town layout plans, your militia training. I'm glad you are all sticking around for a few more days at least.” Harold nodded. “We need a few days to get a crew together. I'm also thinking about heading to Steamport, see what happened there with my own eyes. Remember for when we pay the Ashen Tower back.” “I'll leave that part to you at least,” Stevens said, shaking his head. “I hope I never see anything like Steamport again.” They turned and looked to the east, still aflame, like a second sunset on the wrong horizon. *** “We're ready to sail first thing tomorrow,” Ragnen said, grinning at Kezzek. “Found you a crew like I said I would. Now there's one last position that needs to be filled and I was thinking that I would make a-” “I'm Captain,” Keeper said, walking past them onto the ship. Kezzek, Suniel, and Ragnen watched him head to the aft-castle, the gnomes still pulling food from the hold giving him wide berth. “Okay then, I guess that solves that,” Ragnen said with a wry grin. “When do we leave?” “Tomorrow morning,” Harold said, walking down the dock to join them. “If we're agreed that we're going to investigate Steamport, no time to waste before we get to it. Been here in Watersprock for three days already and I for one would like to get back to our journey. Long way to go to get to Crystal Towers yet and Steamport is at least half-a-day's sailing in the wrong direction.” Suniel turned to Ragnen. “You heard the man. Tomorrow morning it is.” *** It was almost sunset by the time they reached what was left of Steamport. As they disembarked onto the one somewhat-intact dock, they all stared in awe at the raw elemental carnage above them. A constant waterfall ran down the entire north face of the plateau upon which Steamport was situated, enough water that even from hundreds of feet away they could hear its roar. In the east was a giant pillar of fire that seemed to reach into the clouds, burning through even the black smoke that still rose from the rest of the city. In the west, a giant tornado whirled and turned, sending debris raining down constantly amidst the ash and mingling its roar with the waterfalls. Rock and mudslides seemed to be a near-constant thing, frequent earthquakes large and small shaking the plateau apart rock by rock. “I'll scout ahead,” Kormak said, not waiting for a reply before ducking low and moving quickly down the dock. The dock itself was warped and buckled and he had to leap here and there to get past the larger gaps. Eventually, he found himself on the rubble-strewn shore, clambering over broken masonry and loose stone, twisted metal, and broken, smoldering wooden beams. When a roughly humanoid watery shape suddenly rose up from the crevice he was contemplating jumping, he nearly lost his footing. “What is it that comes to the cursed hill?” it said, its voice nearly indistinguishable from the roar of the waterfalls. “Does it come to fight the fires?” “Uh, nope. That is, not expressly,” he said. “Why does it come then?” “Uh, it comes to see what the hell is going on here. That's what it comes to see.” “Then this goes,” it said. Before he could reply, it disappeared back into the crevice with a soft splash. “Well, that was different,” Kormak said to nothing in particular. Then he turned and headed back to the ship. *** Suniel approached Steamport from the south, working his way carefully up the cracked cliffs and constantly rumbling and shifting scree that was the whole southern side of the Steamport plateau. He was almost a third of the way up when a huge boulder suddenly detached from where it rested near a distant rocky escarpment and hurled down towards him. Scrambling, he tried to get out of its path, but it seemed to shift its course to follow whichever way he went. [I]It's an elemental[/I], he realized suddenly as it was almost upon him. Instantly, he supplicated himself, grabbing a handful of coins from his robe and pressing them into the dirt in front of him. The boulder's flying tumble stopped abruptly three feet from his head. Tentatively, he rose to his knees, then his feet. “Hello?” he said. It sat like the boulder it was. He tried again in elvish. And dwarven. And on through all the languages he knew. When he reached gnomish, he just barely was able to hurl himself out of the way as it suddenly rolled over, slamming into the dirt where he had been standing and sending rocky debris, ash, and dust flying. He prostrated himself again, groveling in the rocks at the base of the boulder and pressing more coins into the dirt. It went still again and he remained on his stomach, at an impasse. And there they sat. *** Lava flowed not ten feet from where Harold's horse's hooves clattered on the hard black lava-flows. He wrapped another cloth about his face to ward off the smoke and burning sulfurous fumes that rose from all about the western side of the plateau. When he stopped for a moment to figure out his route onwards, his horse suddenly whinnied, kicked, and sidestepped. He spun about, bow and arrow in hand in a heartbeat, and saw a bit of flame, no larger than a torch-flame, floating in the hot wind behind his horse. It flickered and shifted, darting to one side of him, then another, burning a bit of his cloak, then his horses tail, then nearly burning off some hair. “Whoa there, little flame-thing,” he said, putting his bow away and raising his hands. “Look, I come peacefully.” It didn't seem to understand, still darting here and there, sending little licks of flame across clothing and skin. Then he had an idea. He pulled out his waterskin, pulled the stopper, and upended it onto the hot ground. The water came out in a dozen large [I]chugs[/I], sending steam billowing up off the rocks. When he turned to see the thing's reaction, he had to duck to avoid getting his face burned off. His horse bucked as the flame moved about them as if in a frenzy, burning where before it had singed. “Whoa, stop!” he said. After another near-miss with his face, he snarled and his great sword flew from its sheathe to split the flame in half, apparently putting out whatever life-spark kept the the thing burning. It drifted down in ash about him. *** The cliff was nearly sheer and irregular winds blasted down its face, but Kezzek had found a chimney that he thought might be climbable. Making sure all his gear was securely fastened on his back, he began the ascent, bracing one leg on each side of the large crack and slowly working his way up. He had gotten almost thirty vertical feet when suddenly the wind gusted so strongly that his arms slipped off the smooth, wind-carved rock. Frantically, he tried to brace himself with his feet, but they too slipped. He landed on his back, gear clanking and crunching in his pack as he landed on it. By the time he had recovered his breath and was back on his feet, he noticed a dust devil whipping across the scree at the base of the cliff and meandering towards him. When the edge of it was just rippling into his clothing, he nodded to it and motioned to the scree. “Rock,” he said. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but it seemed to blow more strongly. He pointed at it again and said, “Rock bad?” He kicked a rock. In response, the dust devil's winds strengthened, forming a small tornado. Rock chips and debris flew all about him and glanced sharply off his face and hands, but he made sure to not even wince. He picked up two rocks and smashed them together. The winds spun faster and faster as he repeated the performance. Finally, it had apparently seen enough. It engulfed him and he felt the ground fall away from under his feet. He tumbled like a rag doll inside it as it carried him away. *** Kormak peered into the crevice again. “Hello there? Water thingy, you there?” He called for several minutes before it appeared again. “What does it want?” it gurgled. “It wants to see the big water. Water leader or elder or lake or whatever you call it,” Kormak said. “What do you think I want, to sit here in this ruin talking with a ambulatory stream?” “Does it speak in water-speak?” it said. Then it frothed up and blew what he thought of as a misting of spit across him. “What's the big deal?” It did it again, thoroughly dampening him. “Alright, I didn't come here to get soaked by a spit elemental. Go bugger off!” He stormed off to his tent and called his dog over. “Hmph. Maybe the others will have better luck with theirs, 'Cause I'm done with mine. It spit on me, Dog, can you believe it?” As usual, Dog didn't reply, just wagged his tail and lick the elemental spray off Kormak's hands. [/QUOTE]
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