Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Old One" data-source="post: 205600" data-attributes="member: 83">Against the Shadows VII - A Faded Glory Story HourGreetings All!Welcome to the VII Installment of the Faded Glory saga.  The campaign began in May of 2001 with 5 players + 1 DM (the RBDM known as Old One...that's me <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f600.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":D" title="Big grin    :D"  data-smilie="8"data-shortname=":D" />).  I have put my 21 years of DMing experience into a setting designed to challenge the players and their characters and truly hope I am succeeding.  We lost one player and added one player plus a recurring part-time player through the 28 intervening sessions.  I have tried to build a world that combines the best elements of Dark Ages ignorance with Byzantine intrigue into a host of plots and subplots.  If you look closely, you may see elements of Celtic, Dark Ages Britain, Carolingian France and Norman Sicily amidst the Ruins of Empire that suspiciously resemble declining Rome.Each character has individual motivations, goals, foibles, triumphs and sorrows.  So get comfortable, pour yourself a cool Guinness Stout and stay awhile...Beginnings (A Player's Introduction)Your breath comes in quick gasps as you climb the last few feet to the summit of Kyndalyn’s Watch.  The cool spring air quickly dries the sweat soaking your tunic, causing you to shiver ever so slightly.  Your feet come to rest atop the stacked stone cairn; nearly three spear throws long, a spear throw in width and another in height.  Below you, in their granite tomb, lie the moldering remains of Kyndalyn the Fair, his brother Farinmail and their 20-odd staghounds.  Here, 20 winters ago, the brothers and their faithful hounds fell protecting Glynden from a fierce raiding party of the Averni.Your grasp the imaginary sword at your side and swing it over your head!  You shout a battle cry as you strike again and again, felling an Averni with every deadly blow, just as Kyndalyn did all those years ago.  You have heard the story many times, told late at night in the council hall, as the embers from the banked fire grew dim.  Heard the tale of the ranger Kyndalyn, the sorcerer Farinmail and their pack of magnificent hounds; four score and twelve Averni crossed the Thunder River and not one returned home!You look north and east and see the object of their defense two long bowshots or more distant.  The village of Glynden lies between two rocky spurs at the southern end of the Dragon’s Tail Range.  The wood smoke from the evening cooking fires curls lazily skyward above the stout stone and timber homes with slate roofs.  You can make out the bell tower of the Church of Light, where Father Thomas must be preparing for evening vespers.  Two ox-carts are straining to make it up the switchback path, under the every-vigilant eyes of the watch at the town gate.You marvel at the crumbling, but still stout, walls and towers left behind when the 4th Cohort of the Rustica Auxilia departed for distant Emor, a decade before you were born.  Here and there the walls were patched with timbers and lime cement – but they have withstood 30 winters of harsh weather and even harsher neighbors.  Without those walls, Glynden would have shared the same fate as many of the other settlements of the Lost Northern Provinces, or so the elders always say.Aquae Sulis, Ironoak, Greenspire and Bremerton have all been lost to marauding barbarians, fiendish Felevar or other evils in the last five winters alone.  Since the legions withdrew, even the imperial provincial capitals of Lords and Roses had fallen, cast down into dust and memory.  Now fewer than a score of holds remained throughout all of the Lost Northern Provinces, according the last halfling merchant caravan to make the long and arduous journey to Glynden.Evening is rapidly approaching, as is usual in the early spring of the North.  You should be getting back, before they close the gates for the night – but you linger for a few more moments, surveying the land around your home.  To the west, just under the fading sun, lay the Western Wilds; rough, densely wooded hills that are home to fierce barbarian tribes that Imperial Emor could not tame, even at the height of her power.  Those tribes; the Averni, the Nervii, the Brigantes and a score of others now raid across the Thunder River in increasing numbers, seeking to pick the bones of the Lost Northern Provinces clean.  The river is at least ten days of hard walking distant and those that have made the trip swear that unfriendly eyes watch them every step.You turn to the south and spot several distant smoke plumes.  There are still several fortified villas that survive, due to their proximity to Glynden.  They raise foodstuffs and breed hardy ponies, which find a ready market in the town.  Beyond the villas, three weeks or more on foot, is the port of Oar and beyond that, the Crescent Sea.  Some of the halfling trading caravans that visit Glynden two or three times a year travel by sea to Oar from the Eastenmarch, the Jewel Cities or even Imperial Emor herself.  Most, however, prefer the longer (but safer) overland route – or so you have been told.  The Corsairs of the Crescent Sea are rumored to be quite fierce and without mercy.  Somewhere to the south, beyond the villas, beyond Oar and the Corsairs and the Crescent Sea is the shining city of Emor, Queen of the entire world!You cast your eyes to the east and can faintly make out the huge bulk of Dragonspire Mountain in the fading light.  The peak is lost in the misty clouds that always adorn it like a crown, even on the clearest of days.  Everyone knows that a great and fearsome wyrm lives on the mountain.  Several of the more permanent fixtures at Nan’s Tavern whisper of seeing the beast winging through the night sky when Seluna is smiling brightly, but only when they are deep in their cups.  Rumors hold that the dragon considers the entire North to be its domain and it has destroyed no fewer than a dozen barbarian and Felevar armies!  From time to time, foolish adventurers set out to find the wyrm and steal its treasures, but no is known to have reached the peak and survived to tell the tale.  The beast does not seem to take an interest in Glynden and the town returns the favor!  Beyond Dragonspire Mountain, two weeks or more distant, are the Monrovian Highlands were the ferocious highland clans raise their cattle, drink their mead and bash each other’s heads.  Travelers say that the clansmen are suspicious of outsiders, but make sturdy friends, or terrible enemies.Finally your gaze turns north and you shiver again as the evening breeze picks up.  To the north lies the Great Northern Forest, also known as the Darkwood.  Beyond that lost in the gathering gloom, but visible on a clear day are the majestic Pillars of Heaven.  Even further to the north, beyond those mighty mountains according to tales whispered in hushed tones, lays the hidden Isle of the Dark Druids – the terrors that cast down the Imperial City of Roses in but a single night.  The Darkwood is the domain of the fey and magical Felevar, fierce creatures known for their deadly archery and even deadlier sorcery.  It is said that they eat the flesh of their victims and hate all of the free folk with a burning and twisted hatred.  Somewhere near the heart of the Darkwood is the lost city of Chrysilium, once home to the princes and princesses of the Seelie Court, or so old Sentenius claims.  Of course, he is drunk half the time and asleep the other half, so who knows if he is telling the truth!The half-smile that is playing across your face disappears as the gate horn sounds.  You only have ten turns of the minute glass before the gate is closed and barred for the night.  You leap down the cairn, leaving Kyndalyn and Farinmail and their hounds to their eternal watch, only to pause and look westward once more.  There, far in the distance, framed by the burning eye of Osirian are the low hills of the Western Wilds.  One day soon, you tell yourself, the sword at your side will not be imaginary and the barbarians’ best mind their heads!  Perhaps you will brave the ruins of Lords or rid the Darkwood of the evil Felevar.  Maybe you will travel to the Jewel Cities or the Eastenmarch or even to Emor herself.  Perhaps the bards’ will sing tales of your bravery in the tavern halls one day or, you think as you glance one last time at the cairn, maybe a monument such as this will stand for you 30 winters hence.Suppressing a shudder at that last thought, you race down the slope for home – where a steaming bowl of mutton stew and a soft, down-feather tick await you.  As you disappear into the darkness, a pale, translucent shape rises from the top of the cairn and watches you go.  As if reading your mind, a brief smile touches the lips of Kyndalyn’s shade.  With in inaudible sigh, the apparition then turns its sightless gaze westward, beginning its nightly vigil.A synopsis of the trials and travails of the "Shovels of Glynden", as the intrepid band now calls itself, through  Session 15 appears in the post immediately following.  For all previous action with commentary...Recent InstallmentsTo catch the entire saga of Rowan, Rosë, Lew, Quintus and Sextus - along with the dearly departed Marcus Tiro and Garrick - from the beginning, visit: <a href="http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=104" target="_blank">Installment Four</a>For the updated adventures of the intrepid band since migrating to the New Boards, visit: <a href="http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=2907" target="_blank">Installment Five</a>For the most recent adventures, visit: <a href="http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=7371" target="_blank">Installment Six</a>Older Installments - Unfortunately, it looks like the older installments are lost to posterity.  However, all action from the old boards is started anew in <a href="http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=104" target="_blank">Installment Four</a>.Supporting SitesAlas, the Faded Glory Campaign Website has faded into the mists, just like the Elder Races.  I hope to have a campaign website up and running again in the near future.Another great Faded Glory campaign, run by EN Board member Rel, can be found <a href="http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=9164" target="_blank">Here</a>Many Thanks!~ I would like to thank all of the loyal readers and lurkers for their support, readership, commentary and ideas - your presence inspires me to continue~ I would like to thank my fantastic players and former players - Corey (Quintus/Garrick), Jim (Rowan), John (Rose), Steve (Sextus/Marcus Tiro), Mike (Cragen), Dom (Junior Tribune Metallus) and Kris (Brother Lew) - whose antics inspire and amaze me~ I would like to thank Morrus and the other volunteers that keep EN World runningFinal ThoughtsThanks for taking the time to stop by and I hope you give this story hour a shot.  I know there are lots of great ones out there...Seps, Pkitty's, Sagiro's and others...but give Faded Glory a try.  I think you might like it!Thanks for reading and enjoy!~ Old One</blockquote>

Verification