Welcome to the Halmae (updated 2/27/07)
Bad Monkey Jeff
First Post
Alright, I finally got caught up with the epic in progress, and I must say, it's completely awesome. Nice. Very nice.
spyscribe
First Post
Continuing Adventures
Let it not be said that our intrepid DM cannot take a hint.
Since this thread started, Fajitas has been picking the brains of Wisdom Like Silence, Bad Monkey Jeff, and Thatch's player in order to assemble the first part of the chronicle. Or, as some of us refer to it, the campaign B.L.
(Let it also not be said that I am the only compulsive person at our table.)
So gentle readers, do not despair!
(And allow me to interject at this moment how cool it is that I can say readers, plural. And even more cool that some of the aforementioned readers don't even play in the campaign, or know anyone who does. It's utterly mindblowing that total strangers find this of interest.)
Coming soon are tales which will shed light on such nagging questions as:
"Why do the PC's hate Dar Aego with such a burning passion?"
"How did this motley group come to travel together in the first place?"
"What does a bear trap have to do with anything?"
...and many more, to be shortly followed by the chronological continuation of the narrative.
Check back soon. Kettenek's Justice demands it.
spyscribe said:
Let it not be said that our intrepid DM cannot take a hint.
Since this thread started, Fajitas has been picking the brains of Wisdom Like Silence, Bad Monkey Jeff, and Thatch's player in order to assemble the first part of the chronicle. Or, as some of us refer to it, the campaign B.L.
(Let it also not be said that I am the only compulsive person at our table.)
So gentle readers, do not despair!
(And allow me to interject at this moment how cool it is that I can say readers, plural. And even more cool that some of the aforementioned readers don't even play in the campaign, or know anyone who does. It's utterly mindblowing that total strangers find this of interest.)
Coming soon are tales which will shed light on such nagging questions as:
"Why do the PC's hate Dar Aego with such a burning passion?"
"How did this motley group come to travel together in the first place?"
"What does a bear trap have to do with anything?"
...and many more, to be shortly followed by the chronological continuation of the narrative.
Check back soon. Kettenek's Justice demands it.
KidCthulhu
First Post
Re: Continuing Adventures
I'm sorry. I'm not a gentle reader. I'm a cranky, demanding reader who'd like more updates. Now.
Gentle reader indeed!
spyscribe said:
I'm sorry. I'm not a gentle reader. I'm a cranky, demanding reader who'd like more updates. Now.
Gentle reader indeed!
Well, this is just great. So there is now *another* fantastic, well-written story hour for me to check for updates on a daily basis and develop inferiority complexes over. It's not to be stood for, it isn't.
Meanwhile, the Gods sidebar details the most elegant pantheon I've ever laid eyes upon -- I'm shamelessly yoinking it for my own game.
Yours,
Altin
Meanwhile, the Gods sidebar details the most elegant pantheon I've ever laid eyes upon -- I'm shamelessly yoinking it for my own game.
Yours,
Altin
spyscribe
First Post
med stud said:
Actually, some of each.
What happened was that I named my character Lira without realizing, until we were in-game, that I had named her after Italian money.
So, on the theory that it was better for people to laugh at the familiar's name than the character's, I decided the weasel was called Euro.
Our DM was not amused.
It seemed silly for a little while, but now those are just their names, and no one really thinks about it.
Fajitas has even stopped giving me dirty looks when someone calls Euro by name. So naturally, when Lira got a horse, she named him Frank.
Fajitas
Hold the Peppers
Altin said:
Gorsh, thanks Altin. Y'know what they say-- "Yoinking is the sincerest form of flattery."
I'm glad you enjoy the pantheon. I'm quite proud of it. I always find it so difficult to keep 15 different gods straight, so I wanted something nice and small, but flexible enough for PCs to worship however they want.
If you're interested, I have details on some of the major orders devoted to each of the various aspects of the gods, though it's easy enough to make up your own. I figured I'd post them later as grist for the side-bar mill, after I get through describing the Darine Confederacy, Dar Pykos, Dar Aego, Elven Culture, the Ketkath Mountains, the Soveriengty of Kettenek, The Empire of Ebis, and, of course, the unusual place of magic in the Halmae.
As for the quality of the story-hour writing, I put the praise for that squarely where it belongs-- on the shoudlers of spyscribe. Ain't she great?
Update soon. Really.
spyscribe
First Post
Part the Very First
As promised to our gentle (and not-so-gentle) readers: the beginning of our chronicle. Graciously recorded by Fajitas.
Following the party's return from Dar Aego, the next few weeks in Dar Pykos pass quietly. Reyu makes connections among the local Elven population. Thatch works to get the rust spots off his armor and attempts to dodge the blushing advances of Tessa, daughter of the owner of the boarding house where he is staying. Lira meets some fellow sorcerers among the local Questors and sees her powers grow under their tutelage. Hue has buried himself in the great library, and has not been seen around town for some time. Anvil wakes up every morning and thinks about Justice. For Anvil, Justice always has a capital "J."
Reyu and Lira establish a standing breakfast date of language and cultural exchange. During one such breakfast, Lira finally asks (in decent, if accented, Elven), "So, how did all you guys meet up, anyway?"
"Ah," Reyu responds. "You did not know? It is a… complicated story…"
****************************
PART THE VERY FIRST:
In which paths, as if by Fate, meet.
ReyuMaren Kuyi walks quite calmly through the forest. It is not the home forest of her people, the Turin Nation, but it is similar enough. She has seen strange signs these last few days, signs of humans in the woods. But for her, this is a good thing. It means she is getting closer to her destination, the human city-state of Dar Pykos.
The words of her grandmother, RakaShan Kuyi, the Voice of the Tribe, still echo in her ears. "The world is changing, little one, and the humans are changing it. I cannot see what will happen, but a new season is coming and we must be prepared. So take your curiosity and your understanding, and live with the humans for a while, so that when the time comes the Tribe may draw upon your knowledge of their world."
And so Reyu left her Tribe, her sisters and mother, and has traveled North for weeks to reach--
There is a sudden SNAP and a biting pain runs up Reyu’s leg. She has been so lost in her own recollections, she has not been paying attention to her feet. She grabs her leg, and discovers that something has bitten her. It is a like a set of teeth, but made of metal. Its grip does not relent. Clearly some human device, though to what end she is not sure. But she is sure that it hurts a great deal.
She attempts to pry it open. No good. There is some locking mechanism, but the working of it is unfamiliar to her. She curses aloud in Elven as she tries to figure it out…
************
The boy called Thatch cocks his head and listens. Beside him is Bob, once the family plow-horse, now his faithful steed. On his back is the mighty greatsword his Uncle Oran used in the Wars. And ahead of him… ahead of him lies adventure.
Or at least, that’s the plan. That’s why he left the farm, after all, to see the world in search of battle, fortune, and glory. As his Father’s second son, he would not inherit the farm. And, given the cold shoulder his brother’s new wife was giving him, now seemed the time to leave home and head to Dar Pykos to see what the world had to offer.
Thatch listens more intently. He thought he’d heard a voice a moment ago, a woman’s voice. He stays absolutely still, and yes! He hears it again. It speaks unfamiliar words, but her frustrated tone is unmistakable.
What could it be? A damsel in distress, waylaid by brigands? Or perhaps a wood-nymph; he’s heard stories of them. Either way, fortune and glory may be close at hand. "Come on, Bob," he says, and follows the voice.
It leads him to an Elf. Caught in a bear trap.
"Okay. This is kind of like fortune and glory," he thinks.
"Hi!" he says. "Need a hand?"
Reyu turns around as best she can with her foot caught. She switches to Common and replies, "That would be most appreciated."
Thatch comes forward and kneels at the trap, working his hands awkwardly around Reyu’s foot to release it. He finds the catch and pries the trap open. Reyu removes her foot and inspects her wound.
"My thanks," she says. "What is… this?"
"This? It’s a bear trap."
Reyu stares at him. "Why would you wish to trap a bear?"
"Um. It makes it easier to kill?"
"Why would you kill such a creature? Surely it is easier to reason with it."
Thatch pauses to carefully consider his answer, when there comes from the woods a growl and a crashing noise.
Thatch whirls and draws his uncle’s sword, but Reyu immediately begins chanting in her native tongue, her hands moving in gestures long known to her people. Suddenly all the forest around the noises comes to life, trees and shrubs twisting and twining like tentacles. Thatch has little time to gape at this strange sight, however, as a large bear comes crashing out of the woods. Trees and roots seem to grasp at it, as if trying to immobilize it, but it tears through with tremendous strength.
The bear rears up, its paw pulled back to strike the injured Reyu. But Thatch leaps in the way. He swings his uncle’s sword mightily. Unfortunately, he completely misses the bear, who now focuses its attack on Thatch. WHUMP! Thatch stumbles under the force of the blow as the claws rake his shoulder.
"Would you like to reason with it?" Thatch asks Reyu.
"This one is beyond reason, I think," she responds, as she leaps in and grazes the bear with her spear.
The enraged animal falters, its attention torn between two foes. Thatch takes advantage of the beast’s distraction. He regains his balance and, with a single stroke of his uncle’s sword, he strikes the head off the bear. Its body topples and falls at their feet.
"That’s more like it," thinks Thatch.
"Are you injured?" Reyu asks.
"Um. Only a little," Thatch replies.
Reyu places her hands on Thatch’s shoulder and begins to mutter in Elven. As Thatch watches in wonder, a warm blue glow spreads from her hands, rippling like a cool breeze over a pond. The torn flesh heals and closes before his eyes, leaving no trace of scar behind. Thatch is awed. He has heard, of course, that the gods grant great powers to some of their chosen ones, but he has never witnessed such a miracle before, let alone been the subject of one.
Reyu turns and inspects the dead bear. She points at the two arrows broken off in its body. "This explains why the creature was so enraged. Had it been more expertly hunted, its suffering would not have been necessary. Still, I suppose we may get some value of the pelt, and the meat should suffice for some time." She looks up at Thatch. "It is… fortunate… that we encountered each other."
Thatch carefully cleans the blood of the old, battered sword. "I guess so. Where are you headed?"
"To Dar Pykos."
"Really? Me too..."
To be continued.
As promised to our gentle (and not-so-gentle) readers: the beginning of our chronicle. Graciously recorded by Fajitas.
Following the party's return from Dar Aego, the next few weeks in Dar Pykos pass quietly. Reyu makes connections among the local Elven population. Thatch works to get the rust spots off his armor and attempts to dodge the blushing advances of Tessa, daughter of the owner of the boarding house where he is staying. Lira meets some fellow sorcerers among the local Questors and sees her powers grow under their tutelage. Hue has buried himself in the great library, and has not been seen around town for some time. Anvil wakes up every morning and thinks about Justice. For Anvil, Justice always has a capital "J."
Reyu and Lira establish a standing breakfast date of language and cultural exchange. During one such breakfast, Lira finally asks (in decent, if accented, Elven), "So, how did all you guys meet up, anyway?"
"Ah," Reyu responds. "You did not know? It is a… complicated story…"
****************************
PART THE VERY FIRST:
In which paths, as if by Fate, meet.
ReyuMaren Kuyi walks quite calmly through the forest. It is not the home forest of her people, the Turin Nation, but it is similar enough. She has seen strange signs these last few days, signs of humans in the woods. But for her, this is a good thing. It means she is getting closer to her destination, the human city-state of Dar Pykos.
The words of her grandmother, RakaShan Kuyi, the Voice of the Tribe, still echo in her ears. "The world is changing, little one, and the humans are changing it. I cannot see what will happen, but a new season is coming and we must be prepared. So take your curiosity and your understanding, and live with the humans for a while, so that when the time comes the Tribe may draw upon your knowledge of their world."
And so Reyu left her Tribe, her sisters and mother, and has traveled North for weeks to reach--
There is a sudden SNAP and a biting pain runs up Reyu’s leg. She has been so lost in her own recollections, she has not been paying attention to her feet. She grabs her leg, and discovers that something has bitten her. It is a like a set of teeth, but made of metal. Its grip does not relent. Clearly some human device, though to what end she is not sure. But she is sure that it hurts a great deal.
She attempts to pry it open. No good. There is some locking mechanism, but the working of it is unfamiliar to her. She curses aloud in Elven as she tries to figure it out…
************
The boy called Thatch cocks his head and listens. Beside him is Bob, once the family plow-horse, now his faithful steed. On his back is the mighty greatsword his Uncle Oran used in the Wars. And ahead of him… ahead of him lies adventure.
Or at least, that’s the plan. That’s why he left the farm, after all, to see the world in search of battle, fortune, and glory. As his Father’s second son, he would not inherit the farm. And, given the cold shoulder his brother’s new wife was giving him, now seemed the time to leave home and head to Dar Pykos to see what the world had to offer.
Thatch listens more intently. He thought he’d heard a voice a moment ago, a woman’s voice. He stays absolutely still, and yes! He hears it again. It speaks unfamiliar words, but her frustrated tone is unmistakable.
What could it be? A damsel in distress, waylaid by brigands? Or perhaps a wood-nymph; he’s heard stories of them. Either way, fortune and glory may be close at hand. "Come on, Bob," he says, and follows the voice.
It leads him to an Elf. Caught in a bear trap.
"Okay. This is kind of like fortune and glory," he thinks.
"Hi!" he says. "Need a hand?"
Reyu turns around as best she can with her foot caught. She switches to Common and replies, "That would be most appreciated."
Thatch comes forward and kneels at the trap, working his hands awkwardly around Reyu’s foot to release it. He finds the catch and pries the trap open. Reyu removes her foot and inspects her wound.
"My thanks," she says. "What is… this?"
"This? It’s a bear trap."
Reyu stares at him. "Why would you wish to trap a bear?"
"Um. It makes it easier to kill?"
"Why would you kill such a creature? Surely it is easier to reason with it."
Thatch pauses to carefully consider his answer, when there comes from the woods a growl and a crashing noise.
Thatch whirls and draws his uncle’s sword, but Reyu immediately begins chanting in her native tongue, her hands moving in gestures long known to her people. Suddenly all the forest around the noises comes to life, trees and shrubs twisting and twining like tentacles. Thatch has little time to gape at this strange sight, however, as a large bear comes crashing out of the woods. Trees and roots seem to grasp at it, as if trying to immobilize it, but it tears through with tremendous strength.
The bear rears up, its paw pulled back to strike the injured Reyu. But Thatch leaps in the way. He swings his uncle’s sword mightily. Unfortunately, he completely misses the bear, who now focuses its attack on Thatch. WHUMP! Thatch stumbles under the force of the blow as the claws rake his shoulder.
"Would you like to reason with it?" Thatch asks Reyu.
"This one is beyond reason, I think," she responds, as she leaps in and grazes the bear with her spear.
The enraged animal falters, its attention torn between two foes. Thatch takes advantage of the beast’s distraction. He regains his balance and, with a single stroke of his uncle’s sword, he strikes the head off the bear. Its body topples and falls at their feet.
"That’s more like it," thinks Thatch.
"Are you injured?" Reyu asks.
"Um. Only a little," Thatch replies.
Reyu places her hands on Thatch’s shoulder and begins to mutter in Elven. As Thatch watches in wonder, a warm blue glow spreads from her hands, rippling like a cool breeze over a pond. The torn flesh heals and closes before his eyes, leaving no trace of scar behind. Thatch is awed. He has heard, of course, that the gods grant great powers to some of their chosen ones, but he has never witnessed such a miracle before, let alone been the subject of one.
Reyu turns and inspects the dead bear. She points at the two arrows broken off in its body. "This explains why the creature was so enraged. Had it been more expertly hunted, its suffering would not have been necessary. Still, I suppose we may get some value of the pelt, and the meat should suffice for some time." She looks up at Thatch. "It is… fortunate… that we encountered each other."
Thatch carefully cleans the blood of the old, battered sword. "I guess so. Where are you headed?"
"To Dar Pykos."
"Really? Me too..."
To be continued.
