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(Cydra) The Year 271 Campaign (Low Magic experiment)
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 3857054" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>21</strong></p><p></p><p>Our heroes move along the road towards the ruined capitol of the mad land that they are traveling through. Litel, it is called (according to Benito, Adelle and their folk). Now, much of what is going on in this insane time is clarified by those from this time. According to Adelle, the magic draining effect is a part of some kind of massive “spell engine” that sucks the magical power from the surrounding areas in order to power the massive effects that are devastating the land and the people in it. The elf-slayer of Varzoth, according to Adelle, is an epic living spell of incredible potency; in the far distance, the area with the flashes that are still occasionally visible beneath the maroon sky reveals its location. “Tanaroth,” Benito says sadly. “Now I’m sure it’s just a ruin.”</p><p></p><p>Down the road, beneath the dark sky, the party travels. With the villagers accompanying our heroes now, the band has grown to twenty. <em>We certainly can’t be that discrete, now,</em> Sheriff Jorgen thinks. <em>There are too many of us, and too many of these new folks are not skilled at hiding or combat. Benito and Adelle are certainly a good addition to the group, though...</em></p><p></p><p>While Jorgen mulls over the expanded group, Sir Colder trots slightly ahead of the group, eyes peeled, alert and watchful. Suddenly he stops in surprise.</p><p></p><p>Off to the side of the road is a blasted crater. Climbing out from it is a man armored in the style of the year 272, the time from whence our heroes came. He waves at the party.</p><p></p><p>He is wearing the livery of Sir Harth.</p><p></p><p>Weapons are drawn from scabbards. “Ho there, mithcreant!” cries Lord Cedric. “Lay down your armth or be thlain!”</p><p></p><p>To the party’s surprise, the man immediately unbuckles his sword belt. “Thank the gods!” he cries. “Please, I am alone and I mean you no harm! I ask for mercy!”</p><p></p><p>“It could be a trap,” murmurs Sir Fwaigo. “My lord, I don’t trust him.”</p><p></p><p>“Come forward!” cries Lord Cedric. “If you lie to uth, you thall be thlain, unleth you come clean now!”</p><p></p><p>The man approaches, hands held up in plain view. “No, my lord, I do not lie,” he states solemnly. </p><p></p><p>“Where is Harth?” demands Otis Optimus.</p><p></p><p>“Who is this person?” Benito asks suspiciously, in his tongue- Palantian. He clearly does not understand the words of the conversation, but he is ready to strike with his electric ranseur at a moment’s notice. </p><p></p><p>Dahlia tells him, “He appears to be one of Harth’s liegemen... hold on...”</p><p></p><p>“I don’t know where Sir Harth is,” the surrendered knight sighs. “I was with him, yes, but he and the rest of the men left me behind about a month ago.”</p><p></p><p>“A month!” exclaims Kyle. <em>Then we’re catching up to them! The tracks we found around the Ghost Tower of Inverness were about two months old, according to Jorgen. We’ve managed to cut their lead in half! But then again, we just have to catch them; they probably have to find their way to whatever they are seeking.</em></p><p></p><p>“Why did they leave you? What’s your name? What does Harth want? And what’s your part in all of this?” Sir Fwaigo badgers the man. Glaring, he slaps his face.</p><p></p><p>“That’th enough of that!” Lord Cedric barks. “He hath thurrendered, we will treat him honorably.” He stares hard at the knight. “Tho long ath he behaveth honorably, and maketh no attempt to ethcape. Now, anther my man’th quethtionth!”</p><p></p><p>“Escape... to <em>where?</em>” the knight says frankly. Then, marshaling his dignity, he turns to look at Goer. “I am Sir Porthos,” he says gravely. “Sir Harth and his other retainers left me behind because I fell ill. I became a burden, and I knew that we could not afford to slow our progress. The environment was hostile, there were terrible war beasts- it was a struggle just to stay alive, as I am sure you have all realized by now. I chose to stay behind. I had to persuade Sir Harth to allow this- otherwise, he would have carried me on his back, if he had to.”</p><p></p><p>Fortunately for Porthos, he found a way to survive. A small earth tremor caused a sinkhole to collapse, allowing ingress into a small underground cave with a pool of fresh water. Porthos managed to recuperate, but then he was alone in a hostile world, with no idea of where his friends are. Now he is overjoyed to find other folk from his time, even if they are his liege’s sworn foes, and- he tells the party- he is ready to do almost anything to get out of this terrible age. He knows that Harth seeks the capitol, Litel, in order to take the Shadow Road to the Isle of the Elves, where he will attempt to enter the Gates of Glass in the mountain where the artisan elves craft their most powerful magical weapons.</p><p></p><p>“But now I think that would be a mistake, given what I have seen here,” he goes on. He frowns. “Honestly, I am surprised that I ever thought it was a good idea.”</p><p></p><p>“What about the monster?” asks Kyle. “You know, the big thing with all the eye balls?”</p><p></p><p>“The beholder...” Sir Porthos looks confused. “You know, I’d never thought of it as a monster, really- just as another ally.” </p><p></p><p>“Perhaps it used its powers on you,” Otis says, “clouded your mind.” He looks at the others. “I am beginning to suspect that it is not Harth that is the architect of this scheme at all, but rather the beholder!”</p><p></p><p>“An interesting theory,” Dahlia nods. “It might explain a lot.” </p><p></p><p>“You! Porthos!” snaps Sir Colder. “Which one of them seemed to be in charge, Sir Harth or the beholder?”</p><p></p><p>“Well...” Sir Porthos pauses to think. “I would have said Sir Harth, before you asked, but now that I think about it... well... I don’t really know. Sometimes one, then the other. It’s almost as if they were struggling to control the direction their alliance led them.”</p><p></p><p>Our heroes question Porthos some more, but they have already gotten everything that he knows. The party draws aside to discuss his fate.</p><p></p><p>“Execute him,” Sir Fwaigo suggests.</p><p></p><p>“Bring him with us,” argues Kyle. “He surrendered, let’s take him with us. He might end up knowing something else that we didn’t think to ask, or he didn’t think to offer.”</p><p></p><p>“We can’t trust him,” Goer retorts. Otis nods in vigorous agreement.</p><p></p><p>“But he did surrender,” Sir Colder sighs. “And we accepted his surrender.”</p><p></p><p>“Sometimes, prisoners have to be executed,” Otis sniffs. </p><p></p><p>“Theriff Jorgen,” Lord Cedric announces, “thinthe you are the theriff, thith fallth on your thoulderth to dethide. I put him into your cuthtody.”</p><p></p><p>Jorgen nods. “He will come with us. Sir Porthos has a reputation as an honorable man, and he has nowhere else to go. And I would not consign anyone to this place and time, not even Harth.”</p><p></p><p>So it is decided- and the party swells to twenty-one.</p><p></p><p>And the party continues down the road to Litel.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> The party reaches Litel at last!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 3857054, member: 1210"] [b]21[/b] Our heroes move along the road towards the ruined capitol of the mad land that they are traveling through. Litel, it is called (according to Benito, Adelle and their folk). Now, much of what is going on in this insane time is clarified by those from this time. According to Adelle, the magic draining effect is a part of some kind of massive “spell engine” that sucks the magical power from the surrounding areas in order to power the massive effects that are devastating the land and the people in it. The elf-slayer of Varzoth, according to Adelle, is an epic living spell of incredible potency; in the far distance, the area with the flashes that are still occasionally visible beneath the maroon sky reveals its location. “Tanaroth,” Benito says sadly. “Now I’m sure it’s just a ruin.” Down the road, beneath the dark sky, the party travels. With the villagers accompanying our heroes now, the band has grown to twenty. [i]We certainly can’t be that discrete, now,[/i] Sheriff Jorgen thinks. [i]There are too many of us, and too many of these new folks are not skilled at hiding or combat. Benito and Adelle are certainly a good addition to the group, though...[/i] While Jorgen mulls over the expanded group, Sir Colder trots slightly ahead of the group, eyes peeled, alert and watchful. Suddenly he stops in surprise. Off to the side of the road is a blasted crater. Climbing out from it is a man armored in the style of the year 272, the time from whence our heroes came. He waves at the party. He is wearing the livery of Sir Harth. Weapons are drawn from scabbards. “Ho there, mithcreant!” cries Lord Cedric. “Lay down your armth or be thlain!” To the party’s surprise, the man immediately unbuckles his sword belt. “Thank the gods!” he cries. “Please, I am alone and I mean you no harm! I ask for mercy!” “It could be a trap,” murmurs Sir Fwaigo. “My lord, I don’t trust him.” “Come forward!” cries Lord Cedric. “If you lie to uth, you thall be thlain, unleth you come clean now!” The man approaches, hands held up in plain view. “No, my lord, I do not lie,” he states solemnly. “Where is Harth?” demands Otis Optimus. “Who is this person?” Benito asks suspiciously, in his tongue- Palantian. He clearly does not understand the words of the conversation, but he is ready to strike with his electric ranseur at a moment’s notice. Dahlia tells him, “He appears to be one of Harth’s liegemen... hold on...” “I don’t know where Sir Harth is,” the surrendered knight sighs. “I was with him, yes, but he and the rest of the men left me behind about a month ago.” “A month!” exclaims Kyle. [i]Then we’re catching up to them! The tracks we found around the Ghost Tower of Inverness were about two months old, according to Jorgen. We’ve managed to cut their lead in half! But then again, we just have to catch them; they probably have to find their way to whatever they are seeking.[/i] “Why did they leave you? What’s your name? What does Harth want? And what’s your part in all of this?” Sir Fwaigo badgers the man. Glaring, he slaps his face. “That’th enough of that!” Lord Cedric barks. “He hath thurrendered, we will treat him honorably.” He stares hard at the knight. “Tho long ath he behaveth honorably, and maketh no attempt to ethcape. Now, anther my man’th quethtionth!” “Escape... to [i]where?[/i]” the knight says frankly. Then, marshaling his dignity, he turns to look at Goer. “I am Sir Porthos,” he says gravely. “Sir Harth and his other retainers left me behind because I fell ill. I became a burden, and I knew that we could not afford to slow our progress. The environment was hostile, there were terrible war beasts- it was a struggle just to stay alive, as I am sure you have all realized by now. I chose to stay behind. I had to persuade Sir Harth to allow this- otherwise, he would have carried me on his back, if he had to.” Fortunately for Porthos, he found a way to survive. A small earth tremor caused a sinkhole to collapse, allowing ingress into a small underground cave with a pool of fresh water. Porthos managed to recuperate, but then he was alone in a hostile world, with no idea of where his friends are. Now he is overjoyed to find other folk from his time, even if they are his liege’s sworn foes, and- he tells the party- he is ready to do almost anything to get out of this terrible age. He knows that Harth seeks the capitol, Litel, in order to take the Shadow Road to the Isle of the Elves, where he will attempt to enter the Gates of Glass in the mountain where the artisan elves craft their most powerful magical weapons. “But now I think that would be a mistake, given what I have seen here,” he goes on. He frowns. “Honestly, I am surprised that I ever thought it was a good idea.” “What about the monster?” asks Kyle. “You know, the big thing with all the eye balls?” “The beholder...” Sir Porthos looks confused. “You know, I’d never thought of it as a monster, really- just as another ally.” “Perhaps it used its powers on you,” Otis says, “clouded your mind.” He looks at the others. “I am beginning to suspect that it is not Harth that is the architect of this scheme at all, but rather the beholder!” “An interesting theory,” Dahlia nods. “It might explain a lot.” “You! Porthos!” snaps Sir Colder. “Which one of them seemed to be in charge, Sir Harth or the beholder?” “Well...” Sir Porthos pauses to think. “I would have said Sir Harth, before you asked, but now that I think about it... well... I don’t really know. Sometimes one, then the other. It’s almost as if they were struggling to control the direction their alliance led them.” Our heroes question Porthos some more, but they have already gotten everything that he knows. The party draws aside to discuss his fate. “Execute him,” Sir Fwaigo suggests. “Bring him with us,” argues Kyle. “He surrendered, let’s take him with us. He might end up knowing something else that we didn’t think to ask, or he didn’t think to offer.” “We can’t trust him,” Goer retorts. Otis nods in vigorous agreement. “But he did surrender,” Sir Colder sighs. “And we accepted his surrender.” “Sometimes, prisoners have to be executed,” Otis sniffs. “Theriff Jorgen,” Lord Cedric announces, “thinthe you are the theriff, thith fallth on your thoulderth to dethide. I put him into your cuthtody.” Jorgen nods. “He will come with us. Sir Porthos has a reputation as an honorable man, and he has nowhere else to go. And I would not consign anyone to this place and time, not even Harth.” So it is decided- and the party swells to twenty-one. And the party continues down the road to Litel. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] The party reaches Litel at last! [/QUOTE]
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