The group has completed its introduction to the land of G'esh (see the storytime: Adventures of the Uncivilized Lands for more information). The roster stands at 5 (and an NPC):
Sin Goodfellow
Wolvorine
Ceredhion
Falex
Umger_Nikelti
Njal (NPC)
They are all 4th level, and are currently in the citadel at Reivale (in the Uncivilized Lands) after an encounter with a robed figure that imprisoned them in a high-powered magic trap for a hundred years.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Introduction: The Tale of the Wayfarer
"I have made you this being; of my blood, my fire, my wine, and you deny me... never again"
Woldan to Yusia Tyendor, in the Myth of the Creation of G'esh
The figure walked through the village like a grim visage of its former self... it had been given a mission, and it was to track those who had been lost to its master... if only those wizards had not been there... there would be no need for this quest. It longed for the embrace of its home, the light and darkness of its own plane.
To a small thatched hut the figure strolled, never touching the ground with its robes. None truly saw it, but its purpose and sense of vengeance cut through those near it like a knife. The Vishni would find the one it had marked, and the one with that beast of flesh which had forced it to live in this infernal place for a century.
A form appeared to those who looked towards the hut of their leader, dying after his long life as their protector. They were Prime, not knowledgable of anything that lay beyond their village, but their leader was the great Aeolin Elvert, son of Naomi, who had founded Galdortia on that disn't shore. That man had come to the land where time and space curved seeking to unearth its mysteries, but had found a new purpose in saving those who would otherwise die.
One villager tried to attack the figure, but exploded as he rushed towards it... a face turned towards the villagers with three sets of gem-like eyes, then raised a hand to call them to rest. It walked through the thick wooden door of the hut, and looked upon the ancient man and his tribal healer. It was not age that had brought this one to the edge of life; it was his attempt to protect his charges. The flesh could not comprehend survival, and did foolish things to save others above themself.
"I have come for you, Aeolin. Leave us, Neschval; I have business with this man." the Vishni raised one hand, and embedded the priest into the nearest wall, content with watching the tribal's body meld to the mud and twigs, becoming one.
"I know not what you seek, demon" the venerable whispered in his death tone. The Vishni knew it was a lie; no matter how young this man had been, and no matter how old he was now, all held the information desired if you dug deep enough. Thin black lace creeped down the throat of Aeolin, and the elder's last sounds were harsh gagging... but the Vishni did not care about this one's death. Its master wished the information, and it could not return without that information.
The wanderer took off again, with a site in mind for his next conquest: Reivale.
Sin Goodfellow
Wolvorine
Ceredhion
Falex
Umger_Nikelti
Njal (NPC)
They are all 4th level, and are currently in the citadel at Reivale (in the Uncivilized Lands) after an encounter with a robed figure that imprisoned them in a high-powered magic trap for a hundred years.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Introduction: The Tale of the Wayfarer
"I have made you this being; of my blood, my fire, my wine, and you deny me... never again"
Woldan to Yusia Tyendor, in the Myth of the Creation of G'esh
The figure walked through the village like a grim visage of its former self... it had been given a mission, and it was to track those who had been lost to its master... if only those wizards had not been there... there would be no need for this quest. It longed for the embrace of its home, the light and darkness of its own plane.
To a small thatched hut the figure strolled, never touching the ground with its robes. None truly saw it, but its purpose and sense of vengeance cut through those near it like a knife. The Vishni would find the one it had marked, and the one with that beast of flesh which had forced it to live in this infernal place for a century.
A form appeared to those who looked towards the hut of their leader, dying after his long life as their protector. They were Prime, not knowledgable of anything that lay beyond their village, but their leader was the great Aeolin Elvert, son of Naomi, who had founded Galdortia on that disn't shore. That man had come to the land where time and space curved seeking to unearth its mysteries, but had found a new purpose in saving those who would otherwise die.
One villager tried to attack the figure, but exploded as he rushed towards it... a face turned towards the villagers with three sets of gem-like eyes, then raised a hand to call them to rest. It walked through the thick wooden door of the hut, and looked upon the ancient man and his tribal healer. It was not age that had brought this one to the edge of life; it was his attempt to protect his charges. The flesh could not comprehend survival, and did foolish things to save others above themself.
"I have come for you, Aeolin. Leave us, Neschval; I have business with this man." the Vishni raised one hand, and embedded the priest into the nearest wall, content with watching the tribal's body meld to the mud and twigs, becoming one.
"I know not what you seek, demon" the venerable whispered in his death tone. The Vishni knew it was a lie; no matter how young this man had been, and no matter how old he was now, all held the information desired if you dug deep enough. Thin black lace creeped down the throat of Aeolin, and the elder's last sounds were harsh gagging... but the Vishni did not care about this one's death. Its master wished the information, and it could not return without that information.
The wanderer took off again, with a site in mind for his next conquest: Reivale.