Valley of the Dead: Chapter 2 "Home of the sleepless"
Myth and Legend
First Post
The dwarves stop and one muscular, bearded male steps up. He is clad in an adamantine breastplate and wields a two-handed axe. He has some fresh wounds on his limbs but he seems unbothered, as if he is somehow used to being carved up on a regular basis.
The scars littering his bare arms and face seem to suggest just that. His nose is a crooked monument to many fists finding their way to the dwarf's face, and a braided red beard and a shaven head give him a look that would make regular highwaymen and mercenaries seem like milkmaids.
He is holding his nasty looking single-edged axe with a long, polished shaft in his left hand, and a full tankard of dark ale in the other.
"BOLGRIM!" Ferviel yells and dismounts. "What is the meaning of such impudence!"
The dwarf looks about confused, as if there is another one going by that name behind him. He doesn't seem thrilled of having Ferviel yelling at him.
"You began drinking without ecclesiastical supervision!" Ferviel shouts and grins. Bolgrim bursts out in laughter, and so do the other dwarves. They laugh with deep, gruff voices and sound like a herd of oxen who have their collective tails being pulled.
"Arh, well sorry Ferviel, but we thought a wee bit of celebration was in order, seeing as how we had a good fight today. The best kind o' fight - one where we live and those who ain't us die. Like this here fella." - he points towards a mound of flesh that is being dragged by two dwarves in the back.
Ferviel nods and walks over there, grabbing a pitcher of ale from the dwarf with the barrel strapped to his back in the process. He whistles and kneels, examining the remains closely.
"Was this the kind of ghoul you fought?" He turns his head and asks the scouting party, and takes a swig of ale while waiting for them to approach and examine the thing. He seems to have stopped smiling and is studying the lifeless mound of flesh.
"Cut it's arms of did you? And the head? Ah, never mind I see it." he remarks and circles the thing from the other side.
"OI ORC MAN! Want some ale?" Bolgrim grins like an idiot at Thok. You can see he is missing a tooth now that he smiles.
"Who's the elven bitch? I thought you greenskins didn't like them pointy eared kind!" He remarks as he points towards Lórquelië loudly and laughs. More laughs follow from behind from the other dwarves.
[sblock=Knowledge: History, Golden Guard] The Golden Guard was a group of mercenaries and adventurers founded and sponsored by King Syradin II The Pious, King of Muirlane from 465 AF to 499 AF. (It is currently 775 AF).
They were tasked with the extermination of undead, outsiders, evil spellcasters and witch covens. The Redeemers were the specific group that focused on putting restless dead to rest in a permanent fashion. They had a wide variety of resources available, many spellcasters and skilled warriors.
The churches of Lathander, Torm, Helm and other various Good aligned deities offered support that was at first rejected by the King. After his death, the leaders of the Golden Guard accepted the sponsorship of these various temples in exchange for gold and assistance with the mass production of high quality magical gear tailor made to combat the various threats each subdivision of the Guard combated.
The Halberd of Redemption is one such item, and it is a weapon usually awarded after one ended his basic service and advanced to the rank of Captain. There are also armours and assorted wondrous items that can be traced to the Golden Guard and the Redeemers in particular.
The Goled Guard does not exist currently. It was dissipated after the Good aligned temples tried to include the worshippers of any Evil aligned deity in the "marked for slaying" portfolio of the group. This sparked a massive conflict in which the clergy from various temples fought trough both indirect and direct means, and the results were such that the Glden Guard was made to cease to exist.
Items from that time can still be found in circulation today and frequently may be purchased in shops or looted from weapon caches, old tombs or the walls of various keeps and temples.[/sblock]
[sblock=Knowledge: Religion, Golden Guard]The specifics around the meddling of the temples in the affairs of the Golden Guard are generally kept from the populace. Though with good intentions, the temples gradually became the de-facto sponsors and decision makers for the Golden Guard. It did not help that the crown of Muirlane was engaged in war after the death of Syradin II, and as such it could scarcely support such a costly operation.
The Temple of Lathander was primarily linked with the Redeemers and much progress was made in exterminating necromantic cults and pushing back the waves of undead that regularly spawned from the Valley.
It was around that time that Angelwatch could actually flourish into the bustling trading community it is known as today. Though the Temple of Lathander did not openly endorse or require the followers of other religions be persecuted by the Golden Guard, it is rumoured amongst the clergy that the leader of the Temple back then supported a raid on the main establishment of Cyric in Muirlane. Though presumably this was done to slay the vast number of undead servants an guards in Cyric's temple, many of the high priests of Cyric found themselves on the bad end of a Halberd of Redemption or Sun Blade.
Still, much of the work done several hundred years ago is still remembered as a triumph for the Temple of Lathander today and if anyone is willing to reinstate the Golden Guard and the Redeemers in particular, it would be the temple of the Morninglord.[/sblock]
[sblock=Notification for update]@Voda Vosa @Malachei @Dragonwriter @Shayuri @Zerith @Scotley [/sblock]
The scars littering his bare arms and face seem to suggest just that. His nose is a crooked monument to many fists finding their way to the dwarf's face, and a braided red beard and a shaven head give him a look that would make regular highwaymen and mercenaries seem like milkmaids.
He is holding his nasty looking single-edged axe with a long, polished shaft in his left hand, and a full tankard of dark ale in the other.
"BOLGRIM!" Ferviel yells and dismounts. "What is the meaning of such impudence!"
The dwarf looks about confused, as if there is another one going by that name behind him. He doesn't seem thrilled of having Ferviel yelling at him.
"You began drinking without ecclesiastical supervision!" Ferviel shouts and grins. Bolgrim bursts out in laughter, and so do the other dwarves. They laugh with deep, gruff voices and sound like a herd of oxen who have their collective tails being pulled.
"Arh, well sorry Ferviel, but we thought a wee bit of celebration was in order, seeing as how we had a good fight today. The best kind o' fight - one where we live and those who ain't us die. Like this here fella." - he points towards a mound of flesh that is being dragged by two dwarves in the back.
Ferviel nods and walks over there, grabbing a pitcher of ale from the dwarf with the barrel strapped to his back in the process. He whistles and kneels, examining the remains closely.
"Was this the kind of ghoul you fought?" He turns his head and asks the scouting party, and takes a swig of ale while waiting for them to approach and examine the thing. He seems to have stopped smiling and is studying the lifeless mound of flesh.
"Cut it's arms of did you? And the head? Ah, never mind I see it." he remarks and circles the thing from the other side.
"OI ORC MAN! Want some ale?" Bolgrim grins like an idiot at Thok. You can see he is missing a tooth now that he smiles.
"Who's the elven bitch? I thought you greenskins didn't like them pointy eared kind!" He remarks as he points towards Lórquelië loudly and laughs. More laughs follow from behind from the other dwarves.
[sblock=Knowledge: History, Golden Guard] The Golden Guard was a group of mercenaries and adventurers founded and sponsored by King Syradin II The Pious, King of Muirlane from 465 AF to 499 AF. (It is currently 775 AF).
They were tasked with the extermination of undead, outsiders, evil spellcasters and witch covens. The Redeemers were the specific group that focused on putting restless dead to rest in a permanent fashion. They had a wide variety of resources available, many spellcasters and skilled warriors.
The churches of Lathander, Torm, Helm and other various Good aligned deities offered support that was at first rejected by the King. After his death, the leaders of the Golden Guard accepted the sponsorship of these various temples in exchange for gold and assistance with the mass production of high quality magical gear tailor made to combat the various threats each subdivision of the Guard combated.
The Halberd of Redemption is one such item, and it is a weapon usually awarded after one ended his basic service and advanced to the rank of Captain. There are also armours and assorted wondrous items that can be traced to the Golden Guard and the Redeemers in particular.
The Goled Guard does not exist currently. It was dissipated after the Good aligned temples tried to include the worshippers of any Evil aligned deity in the "marked for slaying" portfolio of the group. This sparked a massive conflict in which the clergy from various temples fought trough both indirect and direct means, and the results were such that the Glden Guard was made to cease to exist.
Items from that time can still be found in circulation today and frequently may be purchased in shops or looted from weapon caches, old tombs or the walls of various keeps and temples.[/sblock]
[sblock=Knowledge: Religion, Golden Guard]The specifics around the meddling of the temples in the affairs of the Golden Guard are generally kept from the populace. Though with good intentions, the temples gradually became the de-facto sponsors and decision makers for the Golden Guard. It did not help that the crown of Muirlane was engaged in war after the death of Syradin II, and as such it could scarcely support such a costly operation.
The Temple of Lathander was primarily linked with the Redeemers and much progress was made in exterminating necromantic cults and pushing back the waves of undead that regularly spawned from the Valley.
It was around that time that Angelwatch could actually flourish into the bustling trading community it is known as today. Though the Temple of Lathander did not openly endorse or require the followers of other religions be persecuted by the Golden Guard, it is rumoured amongst the clergy that the leader of the Temple back then supported a raid on the main establishment of Cyric in Muirlane. Though presumably this was done to slay the vast number of undead servants an guards in Cyric's temple, many of the high priests of Cyric found themselves on the bad end of a Halberd of Redemption or Sun Blade.
Still, much of the work done several hundred years ago is still remembered as a triumph for the Temple of Lathander today and if anyone is willing to reinstate the Golden Guard and the Redeemers in particular, it would be the temple of the Morninglord.[/sblock]
[sblock=Notification for update]@Voda Vosa @Malachei @Dragonwriter @Shayuri @Zerith @Scotley [/sblock]
Last edited:
Voda Vosa
First Post
"Thok does want ale." Thok replies, dismounting and quickly grabbing the offered tankard. "Thok see Bolgrim and dwarfs made good battle, Thok told everyone not to worry, but they not believe Thok."
As the dwarf points at the elf, Thok shrugs
"Orcs don't like anyone but Orcs. But Thok is tolerant." he says and winks to the dwarf. "Bolgrim and Thok almost kill one another, but now be friends. See? You tolerant too."
As the dwarf points at the elf, Thok shrugs
"Orcs don't like anyone but Orcs. But Thok is tolerant." he says and winks to the dwarf. "Bolgrim and Thok almost kill one another, but now be friends. See? You tolerant too."
Myth and Legend
First Post
This corpse has been severely mauled by what appears to be edged weapons, but upon closer inspection the cleric concludes that it is of an undead that closely resembles the one the group encountered at the farm.
Scotley
Hero
"The body is well and truly mangled, very impressive," Geryk calls to the Dwarves. To Ferviel he responds, "This does appear to be the same sort of undead that savaged the paladin at the farmstead. Are such things common in the valley? It seems I should need a better understanding of the history as well if we are to make sense of what is happening." His hand shaking slightly, Geryk takes a mug of ale as well. "I would hear the tale of your encounter to better understand our foe, for I have never seen its like until this day. Is you gift for storytelling as great as your gift for song Bolgrim?"
[FONT="]When it became clear the dwarfs were no threat Zinerath stowed the shiny weapon in his pack and continued towards the dead, or perhaps better said re-dead, thing while the others talked, assuming the Dwarves stopped pulling it while they had yet more ale with Ferviel, he would take the opportunity to hop on top of the corpse, with the effort of a shallow skip, and then test the give and constancy of the flesh while recalling what he could about earlier one while Geryk spoke. “could be… yet…” he spoke lowly, almost mumbling to himself while eying the thing up with faint orbs of crimson. He even flared his nostrils to test the odor.
Zinerath thought he might as well speak while the mood was lightened, but made sure to interrupt none when he did so.
“The one we fought decomposed rapidly, but-” He started with a chirp while making sure to keep his face veiled in shadow “after it fell I dismembered it and it was only then that it started to decompose.” he smirked before turning toward the cleric who had bin showing a less strict side “I assume you can surmise what happened when it did so was very messy, and putrid; so if you want a more definitive answer I could duplicate the circumstances, but I don’t think anyone would be too forgiving of me doing so this close to the camp proper, and I would have to demand a proper bath afterwards.” He continued with a waning but still upbeat tone before adding a last comment to Ferviel. “Also, I don’t know what purpose Bolgrim and kin here have for the thing, or what other uses we may have of the thing, but I do know that if I were to dismember the it then it would likely be fully ruined for any other purpose” after he said his peace to Ferviel he would hop off the hulk, backwards, so as to keep his cloak from betraying his wings and to keep his hood veiling his face securely.
Assuming Ferviel had nothing of weight to tell him, Zinerath would move towards one of the Dwarves who had been taking a back seat before getting chatty with the individual and making small talk about the possibility of learning a few songs, as well as perhaps learning Dwarven itself, and, if necessary, what he would need to do to make it worth the dwarf’s while.
OoC: Assume the second paragraph happened after/some point during M&L’s next post where there is a logical pause that he could use to interject :3[/FONT]
Zinerath thought he might as well speak while the mood was lightened, but made sure to interrupt none when he did so.
“The one we fought decomposed rapidly, but-” He started with a chirp while making sure to keep his face veiled in shadow “after it fell I dismembered it and it was only then that it started to decompose.” he smirked before turning toward the cleric who had bin showing a less strict side “I assume you can surmise what happened when it did so was very messy, and putrid; so if you want a more definitive answer I could duplicate the circumstances, but I don’t think anyone would be too forgiving of me doing so this close to the camp proper, and I would have to demand a proper bath afterwards.” He continued with a waning but still upbeat tone before adding a last comment to Ferviel. “Also, I don’t know what purpose Bolgrim and kin here have for the thing, or what other uses we may have of the thing, but I do know that if I were to dismember the it then it would likely be fully ruined for any other purpose” after he said his peace to Ferviel he would hop off the hulk, backwards, so as to keep his cloak from betraying his wings and to keep his hood veiling his face securely.
Assuming Ferviel had nothing of weight to tell him, Zinerath would move towards one of the Dwarves who had been taking a back seat before getting chatty with the individual and making small talk about the possibility of learning a few songs, as well as perhaps learning Dwarven itself, and, if necessary, what he would need to do to make it worth the dwarf’s while.
OoC: Assume the second paragraph happened after/some point during M&L’s next post where there is a logical pause that he could use to interject :3[/FONT]
Mei-Ying turned her attention from the horrible little men and onto the prize they'd dragged back, grateful for a distraction. Immediately she recognized the creature as similar to the one they'd fought, though she was content to let the others say so.
She slipped off her horse, holding her overcoat closed as she did...the last thing she wanted were obnoxious dwarves leering at her. Knowledge of gods and undead was not something every arcanist had here. The monastery had been a holy shrine though, and she'd learned quite a bit.
The sorceress hunkered down near the body and took a close look...even wrinkled her nose and took a whiff of its foul odor, trying to tell if she recognized more about this beast. What made it different, if anything?
She slipped off her horse, holding her overcoat closed as she did...the last thing she wanted were obnoxious dwarves leering at her. Knowledge of gods and undead was not something every arcanist had here. The monastery had been a holy shrine though, and she'd learned quite a bit.
The sorceress hunkered down near the body and took a close look...even wrinkled her nose and took a whiff of its foul odor, trying to tell if she recognized more about this beast. What made it different, if anything?
Myth and Legend
First Post
Bolgrim laughs and slaps Thok's back as they raise their mugs in salute. The ale is bitter, dark and thick, with a hint of oak, wheat and whatever special ingredients Dwarven brewmeisters add. It is a fine beverage, that is smooth on the throat and leaves one yearning for more.
"Nah, I was so pissed-drunk that time that I thought you fer an orc. I means a real orc. Them's a savage lot, yeah? Lost a cousin to an orc invasion a while back at Marble Gate. But elves - they're a bunch of prancing snobs who talk with long words but do little fer a fella, yeah? And a wench - them's only good fer shaggin' and cookin'. And I don't see either of these two choppin' onions."
The dwarf grins and eyes the two women like so much livestock.
When Geryk speaks, the dwarves all wait for Bolgrim to respond. He reluctantly turns back from the women and approaches the carcass.
"Ain't much ta tell. Bastard came at us outta nowhere. Went for da nearest one. Dumb as dirt tho, and it died quick enough. Bit Ulfrettin in the arm."
A dwarf clad in leather and with a longsword and dagger strapped to his belt waves his hand dismissively. His beard is brown, thick and his eyes are dark and beady in the scarce light.
"I've had worse wounds in a tavern brawl, HAR HAR!" He laughs heartily and the other darves join.
Ferviel seems to be in thought, as he removes himself from the vicinity of the corpse, but not before grabbing Zinnerath by the arm to discourage any dismemberment of the corpse.
"There will be no need for that. This is a Hulking Corpse. They're big, strong and they lack any intelligence or cunning. They're only useful for carnage or shock troops. It's unlikely that two would make their way so far from a sealed Valley. They are not known for subtlety."
Bolgrim regards Zinnerath with curiosity and rests his hand on the hilt of his axe.
"And what manner of beast are ye, boyo?" The dwarf asks with sincere curiosity in his voice. He scratches his broken nose as he observes the demonic child.
Mei-Ying does not recall any information on such undead creatures.
[sblock]The group may chat some more here. When you are ready, you can head back to camp. Don't forget that Lazarus wanted to see you guys before you can turn in for the night. You have tents set up courtesy of the Temple of Lathander, so you may go to them as well.[/sblock]
"Nah, I was so pissed-drunk that time that I thought you fer an orc. I means a real orc. Them's a savage lot, yeah? Lost a cousin to an orc invasion a while back at Marble Gate. But elves - they're a bunch of prancing snobs who talk with long words but do little fer a fella, yeah? And a wench - them's only good fer shaggin' and cookin'. And I don't see either of these two choppin' onions."
The dwarf grins and eyes the two women like so much livestock.
When Geryk speaks, the dwarves all wait for Bolgrim to respond. He reluctantly turns back from the women and approaches the carcass.
"Ain't much ta tell. Bastard came at us outta nowhere. Went for da nearest one. Dumb as dirt tho, and it died quick enough. Bit Ulfrettin in the arm."
A dwarf clad in leather and with a longsword and dagger strapped to his belt waves his hand dismissively. His beard is brown, thick and his eyes are dark and beady in the scarce light.
"I've had worse wounds in a tavern brawl, HAR HAR!" He laughs heartily and the other darves join.
Ferviel seems to be in thought, as he removes himself from the vicinity of the corpse, but not before grabbing Zinnerath by the arm to discourage any dismemberment of the corpse.
"There will be no need for that. This is a Hulking Corpse. They're big, strong and they lack any intelligence or cunning. They're only useful for carnage or shock troops. It's unlikely that two would make their way so far from a sealed Valley. They are not known for subtlety."
Bolgrim regards Zinnerath with curiosity and rests his hand on the hilt of his axe.
"And what manner of beast are ye, boyo?" The dwarf asks with sincere curiosity in his voice. He scratches his broken nose as he observes the demonic child.
Mei-Ying does not recall any information on such undead creatures.
[sblock]The group may chat some more here. When you are ready, you can head back to camp. Don't forget that Lazarus wanted to see you guys before you can turn in for the night. You have tents set up courtesy of the Temple of Lathander, so you may go to them as well.[/sblock]
Dragonwriter
First Post
Rufus regards the dead monstrosity with some displeasure. "Hulking Corpse, eh? Aye, the name suits them well," he muses absently.
"If 'tis as you say, Dawnbringer, and these things are such dim brutes, then something certainly is wrong for them to be able to roam so far afield. Any of you any good at tracking? Might be able to follow a trail back to where it got out... or was set free. Though that'll be a moot point if no one is any good at it."
"If 'tis as you say, Dawnbringer, and these things are such dim brutes, then something certainly is wrong for them to be able to roam so far afield. Any of you any good at tracking? Might be able to follow a trail back to where it got out... or was set free. Though that'll be a moot point if no one is any good at it."
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