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

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Joshua Randall" data-source="post: 945032" data-attributes="member: 7737">Now, back to the storyWe now continue our regularly scheduled story hour.The Kingdom of Durenor encompasses a peninsula in northeastern Magnamund, jutting out into the Northern Void. Its western border is defined by the Rymerift, a natural natural causeway between the Gulf of Durenor and the Kuri Sea, formed during the Age of Chaos when intense volcanic activity reshaped much of Magnamund. Two roads cross this waterway, each carrying great amounts of foot and wagon traffic. The northern road, which crosses the Rymerift at Port Box, stretches westwards along the coastline of the inhospitable Wildlands, into the rough and tumble city of Ragadorn, and further westwards to the borders of Sommerlund. The southern road crosses the Rymerift at the city of Ryme, an important port and naval base on Durenor’s southern coast. Trade caravans muster at the Cloeasian city of Kadan for the journey to Ryme, where their goods can be dispersed by the wide-reaching Durenese sea-traders.East of the Rymerift, the Durenese countryside becomes heavily forested and progressively more hilly until the mighty ring of mountains that surrounds the capitol, Hammerdal. Three great tunnels were excavated through these mountains during the Age of the Black Moon, consuming the efforts of generations of human and dwarven miners. Each tunnel is over forty miles long and over one hundred feet in height and width – except at strategically located chokepoints that allow small contingents of soldiers to control passage through the tunnels. So well protected is the city of Hammerdal by its natural fortifications that in the years since its founding no enemy has attempted an assault.It was to Hammerdal that Brogun Rhumenheim, Priest of Kirabá, decided to journey. He spent several pleasant days of leisurely travel down the coast from Lof, his lungs drinking in the fresh spring air, glad for an end to the long winter. Brogun passed many wagons and the occasional carriage upon the road south from Lof. Several times he stopped to lend his strength to those that had become mired in the muddy roads. Those whom he aided may have raised their eyebrows at this heavily-armed dwarf, traveling alone, but in the end all were glad for the help.At the River Durenor, the road to Hammerdal turned east. Brogun knew that he would pass through the Tunnel of Tarnalin, and looked forward to his first glimpse of this marvel of engineering. He had disdained several offers to purchase a horse, preferring both to conserve his money and to experience the countryside on foot. So Brogun plodded on, singing the ancestral songs of his people to pass the time.Brogun was now in the foothills, the mountain ring looming above him to the east. He paused to take in the majestic snow-capped peaks in the distance. It was an inspiring sight, even for a dwarf from Bor.As he stood there, savoring the view, Brogun noticed some strange sounds emanating from the woods to his right. Frowning, Brogun strode boldly toward the source of these sounds. A little way into the woods, he came upon a strange scene. In a small clearing a man lay sprawled out, groaning and writhing on the ground; from his chest protruded a short spear. A horse in the white livery of Durenor cropped the grass at the opposite end of the clearing.Brogun furrowed his brows at this scene. One hand to his axe, he cautiously approached the injured man. The man wore mud-stained brown traveling robes and a pair of well-worn boots upon his feet. The spear was embedded deeply within his chest, yet there seemed little blood. The man’s hands were wrapped around the spear, and as Brogun watched, he weakly attempted to pull it free."Do you require assistance?" Brogun inquired, rather pointlessly. The man’s face contorted in pain and he groaned incoherently. Shrugging, Brogun placed both hands on the spear and tugged. It came free more easily than Brogun had expected.The spear’s haft was covering with writings in some unknown tongue intertwined with ornate carvings in a woodland motif. As Brogun turned the spear in his hands, he noticed how light it felt. Surely not stout enough to be a proper weapon, he thought.He startled as the injured man lept to his feet. "How did this –" Brogun began – but his words were choked off as the man underwent a rapid and hideous transformation. The skin of the man’s face and hands seemed to tighten and shrivel until it was a black skein over his bones. His teeth elongated into fangs and his eyes sunk into his skull until they were mere pinpricks of glowing red light.“By the Gods!” Brogun gasped, backing away and fumbling for his axe. The creature glared at Brogun as it advanced towards him, claws outstretched. The dwarf felt a terrible pain erupt between his temples and clutched his head.The creature laughed, a harsh grating sound, and lashed at Brogun with one clawed hand, ripping a gash through his armor and slicing his flesh. "Gaaa!" Brogun roared through a haze of pain. Gripping his axe in both hands, he swung it in a wide arc, catching the thing just above and waist and ripping upwards to its opposite shoulder. It lurched backwards with the force of the blow.Brogun looked with satisfaction at the results of his handiwork – then looked again in horror as the creature’s wounds closed before his eyes. It laughed again, its eyes boring into Brogun’s. Then it spoke several words in a guttural tongue and gestured in the air before it. Brogun cringed, expecting to be blasted by some spell. But the creature had shot off towards the horse, racing across the ground at unnatural speed.Brogun glanced at his axe in disbelief. Shaking his head, he ran towards the creature, his armor clanking loudly. The thing had grabbed the horse’s reins in one clawed hand, but the terrified animal neighed frantically and reared up. As the creature spotted Brogun approaching, it grabbed at something under its robes.Brogun circled warily behind the horse’s kicking hooves, axe held in one hand. He invoked the power of Kirabá’s healing touch in the other hand and held it before him. He thought back to the fight with the Ice Haunt in the monastery above Lof. Brogun hoped he had guessed correctly about the undead nature of the thing he confronted now, and that it would prove as susceptible as had the Ice Haunt.The creature saw Brogun’s outstretched hand, saw that it glowed with positive energy. It released its hold upon the horse, which bolted into the woods. The thing raised its bony hand, a spike of black metal clutched within it. From the spike’s tip spat an arc of bluish energy that slammed into Brogun and knocked him off his feet. Ribbons of blue crawled over his body for a few seconds before dissipating.By the time Brogun got to his feet, the creature had fled, but the dwarf could still hear it crashing through the trees. He charged after it, boughs and braches slapping at his face, roots and brambles tearing at his feet. At last Brogun reached the road. He peered in both directions. To his right, he could just make out a brown-robed figure before it disappeared around a bend. Brogun sighed. There was no way he could catch up to the thing. Even if he removed his armor, its magically enhanced speed would allow it to stay ahead of him.The creature raced east, toward Hammerdal.</blockquote>

Verification