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
Another Bastard Child of Tolkien - Litany for a Dead Campaign (The End)
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="Paka" data-source="post: 1299285" data-attributes="member: 100"><p><strong>Chapter VIII</strong></p><p><em>A Hero's Tale</em></p><p></p><p>Mother built Ladymist for us.</p><p></p><p>I hate stories, always want the teller to go right to the end, the real end. Stalwart heroes, lovely princesses, wily tricksters and even great Wizards become tragic as they grow pathetic and old. Stories never end there, though. </p><p></p><p>My beautiful garden is a mess. The pond is covered in slime and algae. Once poems were composed about the moon’s reflection in its waters. Mother Tiamat’s statue has only three heads left. </p><p></p><p>Time has had its way with the Lady I remember.</p><p></p><p>The statues of Father Bahumat and his five sons were made of the purest virgin marble. </p><p>Now the erosion makes it look like the statues are crying. The hedge maze is overgrown with thorns. </p><p></p><p>Time hasn’t had entirely negative effects on my mother’s finest creation.</p><p></p><p>Mother built this city for my brother and my sister and me. She brought together the finest artists from the corners of the world. Elvish crystal for the dome, Dwarves for the underground lair, Gnomish tunnels and still more ancient cultures for the shape, for the step pyramid.</p><p></p><p>The Jade Forest is what they call it now. When I was growing up it was the Jade Empire.</p><p></p><p>Now this Hatchling resides in my dead mother’s lair, bloody Halflings run her errands. She hasn’t even taken root in the world yet and she hopes to stand against the Empires around her. The Golden Empire’s Great Wyrm has been asleep for more than six hundred years. When he wakes up they will find out the difference between a forest and an Empire.</p><p></p><p>It is a farce. </p><p></p><p>I hate stories. Nothing worse than watching some ham-tongued storyteller establish the hero, establish a villain and then let they fight it out for some crowd’s amusement.</p><p></p><p>My younger brother used to tell such stories to my mother and sister. They would laugh and clap their hands. None of my magicks ever brought them such laughter, safety and security but never that kind of storybook joy.</p><p></p><p>Mother died, betrayed by the Lord of Deeproot. Lucky for him he was killed by my mother’s loyal subjects if I had laid my hands on him my hydras would still be feasting on his innards.</p><p></p><p>Now my brother is gone, most likely dead, drunk or rutting (mayhaps all three) in some backwater demi-plane. My sister is dead, buried with her disposable husband and I am the only one left to watch over this city.</p><p></p><p>This is probably a good thing. The rest of the family was tied down to that storybook mentality of villains, heroes and maidens fair. This kind of worldview weakens them.</p><p></p><p>Me, for example. I used an arcane artifact to possess a simpleton bastard with Dragon’s blood to kill the former Duke of Ladymist. The former Duke was a good, if foolish, man with nothing but the best intentions but as the centuries wear on fools cannot be suffered lightly.</p><p></p><p>There is a Great Wyrm to the west and when he awakens we will need a strong leader. Duchess Alexia Greatwing is such a leader. Even when she was a little girl others followed her. It is something that can’t be trained into you or taught. Either you have it or you don’t and, Tiamat bless her little soul, she has it in spades.</p><p></p><p>Along with that she is a pretty thing and so the people love her. The people are fairly easy to please.</p><p></p><p>Not that she isn’t above mistakes.</p><p></p><p>There is that bit about the hanging of a City Watch sergeant a few weeks ago but that is remedied easily enough. A few songs in the right inns, a few whispers to the right ears, a few zealots talking too much too fast and that little uprising will be quashed fast enough.</p><p></p><p>We might have to arrange for some little girl to be killed brutally by some kind of blood-hungry mob but I’ll explain to her that she is dying for the noblest of causes before her pure little soul heads off towards the Sun. Should the girl be a Half-Orc or Half-Elf? </p><p></p><p>The body of a little girl with great big sad Elvish eyes, gazing up through a mop of bloody hair might just do the trick but the Half-Orcs are so much more relevant.</p><p></p><p>These are the decisions that plague me.</p><p></p><p>Are the people who incite the mob villains?</p><p></p><p>What if their murder leads to a backlash against humanists and bigots? What if this strengthens Jade Forest and helps the Hatchling lounging on my mother’s throne to live a while longer, maybe take root, maybe see her forest become an Empire?</p><p></p><p>Let a storyteller sing a ballad about a hero like me, a hero who makes the decisions that shiny knights on their horses and gracefully Elves with their bows refuse to make. Let children play in the street and pretend to be Edric, son of the Horned Lady.</p><p></p><p>There are other tales I’d like to tell, other issues that need addressing. The Green Heralds, Grat Lair-Guardian, the artifact in my possession and its myriad uses are all subjects for later writings. I want my words left after I’m gone or asleep in the centuries to come and all of this needs to be properly chronicled but a true hero’s work is never done.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Paka, post: 1299285, member: 100"] [B]Chapter VIII[/B] [I]A Hero's Tale[/I] Mother built Ladymist for us. I hate stories, always want the teller to go right to the end, the real end. Stalwart heroes, lovely princesses, wily tricksters and even great Wizards become tragic as they grow pathetic and old. Stories never end there, though. My beautiful garden is a mess. The pond is covered in slime and algae. Once poems were composed about the moon’s reflection in its waters. Mother Tiamat’s statue has only three heads left. Time has had its way with the Lady I remember. The statues of Father Bahumat and his five sons were made of the purest virgin marble. Now the erosion makes it look like the statues are crying. The hedge maze is overgrown with thorns. Time hasn’t had entirely negative effects on my mother’s finest creation. Mother built this city for my brother and my sister and me. She brought together the finest artists from the corners of the world. Elvish crystal for the dome, Dwarves for the underground lair, Gnomish tunnels and still more ancient cultures for the shape, for the step pyramid. The Jade Forest is what they call it now. When I was growing up it was the Jade Empire. Now this Hatchling resides in my dead mother’s lair, bloody Halflings run her errands. She hasn’t even taken root in the world yet and she hopes to stand against the Empires around her. The Golden Empire’s Great Wyrm has been asleep for more than six hundred years. When he wakes up they will find out the difference between a forest and an Empire. It is a farce. I hate stories. Nothing worse than watching some ham-tongued storyteller establish the hero, establish a villain and then let they fight it out for some crowd’s amusement. My younger brother used to tell such stories to my mother and sister. They would laugh and clap their hands. None of my magicks ever brought them such laughter, safety and security but never that kind of storybook joy. Mother died, betrayed by the Lord of Deeproot. Lucky for him he was killed by my mother’s loyal subjects if I had laid my hands on him my hydras would still be feasting on his innards. Now my brother is gone, most likely dead, drunk or rutting (mayhaps all three) in some backwater demi-plane. My sister is dead, buried with her disposable husband and I am the only one left to watch over this city. This is probably a good thing. The rest of the family was tied down to that storybook mentality of villains, heroes and maidens fair. This kind of worldview weakens them. Me, for example. I used an arcane artifact to possess a simpleton bastard with Dragon’s blood to kill the former Duke of Ladymist. The former Duke was a good, if foolish, man with nothing but the best intentions but as the centuries wear on fools cannot be suffered lightly. There is a Great Wyrm to the west and when he awakens we will need a strong leader. Duchess Alexia Greatwing is such a leader. Even when she was a little girl others followed her. It is something that can’t be trained into you or taught. Either you have it or you don’t and, Tiamat bless her little soul, she has it in spades. Along with that she is a pretty thing and so the people love her. The people are fairly easy to please. Not that she isn’t above mistakes. There is that bit about the hanging of a City Watch sergeant a few weeks ago but that is remedied easily enough. A few songs in the right inns, a few whispers to the right ears, a few zealots talking too much too fast and that little uprising will be quashed fast enough. We might have to arrange for some little girl to be killed brutally by some kind of blood-hungry mob but I’ll explain to her that she is dying for the noblest of causes before her pure little soul heads off towards the Sun. Should the girl be a Half-Orc or Half-Elf? The body of a little girl with great big sad Elvish eyes, gazing up through a mop of bloody hair might just do the trick but the Half-Orcs are so much more relevant. These are the decisions that plague me. Are the people who incite the mob villains? What if their murder leads to a backlash against humanists and bigots? What if this strengthens Jade Forest and helps the Hatchling lounging on my mother’s throne to live a while longer, maybe take root, maybe see her forest become an Empire? Let a storyteller sing a ballad about a hero like me, a hero who makes the decisions that shiny knights on their horses and gracefully Elves with their bows refuse to make. Let children play in the street and pretend to be Edric, son of the Horned Lady. There are other tales I’d like to tell, other issues that need addressing. The Green Heralds, Grat Lair-Guardian, the artifact in my possession and its myriad uses are all subjects for later writings. I want my words left after I’m gone or asleep in the centuries to come and all of this needs to be properly chronicled but a true hero’s work is never done. [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
Another Bastard Child of Tolkien - Litany for a Dead Campaign (The End)
Top