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Cormanthyr Spring
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<blockquote data-quote="ShawnLStroud" data-source="post: 10952" data-attributes="member: 1374"><p><strong>Cormanthyr Spring - The Player's Introduction</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>This is the text of the Player Introduction</strong> </p><p></p><p>The woods here are dark and the tiny pools of light that make it to the ground seem overwhelmed by the shadows of the giant trees all around. The air is stifling; as if the forest acts like a huge woolen blanket on the ground – insulating the ground from the air, but trapping the heat and humidity. Out in the fields, the air was pleasant; in here the air wraps around you like a coat.</p><p>Of course, you might be more comfortable if you weren’t roped to a slave coffle, or if you hadn’t spent the last day and night being chivvied along like a truant child by the Orc raiding party. You might be more alert if you’d eaten the foul swill the Orc guard tried to pour down your throat this morning – even if it did smell like the bastard child of Gorgonzola cheese and month-old sewage. You might even have an idea where you were in the forest if some bastard Orc didn’t cuff you on the side of the head every time you looked up from the dismal animal track you’ve been shuffling along for the past eight hours. </p><p></p><p>Then again, perhaps being able to think may not be your best option. Even now, you shudder to recollect the horrible victory party that was held around the smoking ruins of the small tavern in Tavolo Verde. You pity the women, passed from one Orc to another; and you try to forget their piteous shrieks as they were used again and again. Tears of shame well up in your eyes when you remember the colicky baby that was so casually killed right in front of you, and you can’t erase the sight of that tiny body cast so roughly aside, blood and brain matter spattering on the flinching mother.</p><p></p><p>Tavolo Verde had been in the middle of the Spring Festival, and you’d been in the village because of the light ale brewed in the area. Battledale is known for its hardened inhabitants, but Mistledale is the blessed Dale. Your day had been spent at the fair, haggling over trinkets for loved ones at home, idly watching some of the competitive events, going for the gold ring in others and generally enjoying your first free spring in years. You fell into a heavy, self-satisfied slumber at the end of the evening, sated with spicy bratwurst, pale ale and good company.</p><p></p><p>You awakened to a nightmare of screams and fire, orcs and wolf-riding goblins running amok through the village. You have a memory of the raid leader, a slender, dread locked orc female who ruthlessly suppressed and corralled the mage staying at the inn with you. You remember the cries of dismay when the orc raiders weren’t effected by what were called sleep spells. </p><p></p><p>You grind your teeth, and that bastard orc cuffs you on the side of the head with a growled, “Shut yer trap, meat!”</p><p>You decide to wait for your opportunity. These bastards are going to slip up, then you’ll make them rue the day they put you in a collar. That’s the thought that keeps you alive.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ShawnLStroud, post: 10952, member: 1374"] [b]Cormanthyr Spring - The Player's Introduction[/b] [B]This is the text of the Player Introduction[/B] The woods here are dark and the tiny pools of light that make it to the ground seem overwhelmed by the shadows of the giant trees all around. The air is stifling; as if the forest acts like a huge woolen blanket on the ground – insulating the ground from the air, but trapping the heat and humidity. Out in the fields, the air was pleasant; in here the air wraps around you like a coat. Of course, you might be more comfortable if you weren’t roped to a slave coffle, or if you hadn’t spent the last day and night being chivvied along like a truant child by the Orc raiding party. You might be more alert if you’d eaten the foul swill the Orc guard tried to pour down your throat this morning – even if it did smell like the bastard child of Gorgonzola cheese and month-old sewage. You might even have an idea where you were in the forest if some bastard Orc didn’t cuff you on the side of the head every time you looked up from the dismal animal track you’ve been shuffling along for the past eight hours. Then again, perhaps being able to think may not be your best option. Even now, you shudder to recollect the horrible victory party that was held around the smoking ruins of the small tavern in Tavolo Verde. You pity the women, passed from one Orc to another; and you try to forget their piteous shrieks as they were used again and again. Tears of shame well up in your eyes when you remember the colicky baby that was so casually killed right in front of you, and you can’t erase the sight of that tiny body cast so roughly aside, blood and brain matter spattering on the flinching mother. Tavolo Verde had been in the middle of the Spring Festival, and you’d been in the village because of the light ale brewed in the area. Battledale is known for its hardened inhabitants, but Mistledale is the blessed Dale. Your day had been spent at the fair, haggling over trinkets for loved ones at home, idly watching some of the competitive events, going for the gold ring in others and generally enjoying your first free spring in years. You fell into a heavy, self-satisfied slumber at the end of the evening, sated with spicy bratwurst, pale ale and good company. You awakened to a nightmare of screams and fire, orcs and wolf-riding goblins running amok through the village. You have a memory of the raid leader, a slender, dread locked orc female who ruthlessly suppressed and corralled the mage staying at the inn with you. You remember the cries of dismay when the orc raiders weren’t effected by what were called sleep spells. You grind your teeth, and that bastard orc cuffs you on the side of the head with a growled, “Shut yer trap, meat!” You decide to wait for your opportunity. These bastards are going to slip up, then you’ll make them rue the day they put you in a collar. That’s the thought that keeps you alive. [/QUOTE]
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