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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
In the Valus - The Heroes of Marchford (Chapter 14 Continues - 12/24/08)
- Thread starter Funeris
- Start date
TheYeti1775
Adventurer
Yeti Complain never.....
I wouldn't complain ever,
I gripe,
I *itch,
But never complain hehe.
Good update.
Honestly I know Cat is going to pop here soon, and for all those wondering she was supposed to be induced this morning at 0730.
And due to the fact he that he is giving me a cigar when we see each other again, I am forgiving any lateness on updating the Story Hour.
But I get to bug him even more now that his home internet connection is working again.
Now let's see induced at 0730....
Give it a few hours.....
Start bugging about 1600.....
Better have an update by 1630....
.... well at least on the status of the kid.
I wouldn't complain ever,
I gripe,
I *itch,
But never complain hehe.
Good update.
Honestly I know Cat is going to pop here soon, and for all those wondering she was supposed to be induced this morning at 0730.
And due to the fact he that he is giving me a cigar when we see each other again, I am forgiving any lateness on updating the Story Hour.
But I get to bug him even more now that his home internet connection is working again.
Now let's see induced at 0730....
Give it a few hours.....
Start bugging about 1600.....
Better have an update by 1630....
.... well at least on the status of the kid.
TheYeti1775
Adventurer
Good Now That Is Done....
Well little Funeris has come into the world.
At 12:41pm yesterday.
Apparently without horns as of yet, don't worry I already told him give it about 12 years for them to appear in full.
I'm sure he will be around to update us on his son and the story hour. Currently he thinks sleep is needed.
Well little Funeris has come into the world.
At 12:41pm yesterday.
Apparently without horns as of yet, don't worry I already told him give it about 12 years for them to appear in full.
I'm sure he will be around to update us on his son and the story hour. Currently he thinks sleep is needed.
Funeris
First Post
Well, its not that sleep is needed...its nice though. Got up around 4-4:30 this morning (earliest I've awoken in years...makes me feel like I'm in the army again).
The Kid is doing just fine...he was 7 lbs. 6 oz, 19 inches long and looks exactly like me...same re hair, same blue eyes, everything. And just so everyone is aware, the Yeti griped & *itched about a SH to me yesterday
The girlfriend and I are doing quite fine. Recovering, as it were, although I'm already back at work.
So, when is the next update, you ask? How about sometime next week (if I don't get to it this weekend).
Thanks for all the congratulations. I appreciate it. Keep reading
The Kid is doing just fine...he was 7 lbs. 6 oz, 19 inches long and looks exactly like me...same re hair, same blue eyes, everything. And just so everyone is aware, the Yeti griped & *itched about a SH to me yesterday
The girlfriend and I are doing quite fine. Recovering, as it were, although I'm already back at work.
So, when is the next update, you ask? How about sometime next week (if I don't get to it this weekend).
Thanks for all the congratulations. I appreciate it. Keep reading
Funeris
First Post
Aieeeeee?!?!
Whaddya mean poor kid? Like your boys are any better off, Destan
Again everyone thanks for the congrats. I'm gonna post a small pic if anyone is interested.
Will begin working on an update tonight/tomorrow. So, if I don't get it up soon, Yeti, pull out that whip. That didn't sound right. Oh well.
Little Aidan
Whaddya mean poor kid? Like your boys are any better off, Destan
Again everyone thanks for the congrats. I'm gonna post a small pic if anyone is interested.
Will begin working on an update tonight/tomorrow. So, if I don't get it up soon, Yeti, pull out that whip. That didn't sound right. Oh well.
Little Aidan
Attachments
Funeris
First Post
Chapter 9: Death in the Family
Ok folks, here's your first update for Chapter 9. Enjoy!! (BTW, I'm working on another one now, since this isn't all that terribly long)
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At daybreak, the Heroes of Marchford stood at the entrance of the well. The quickly rising sun cast constantly shifting shadows into the mouth of the underdark. An inspection of the few remaining splinters of door easily cancelled any thoughts of barricading the well. Even if the pieces had been larger, their ability to hold back the tides of the deep evil would not have made much difference.
Instead, the Heroes dismissed the idea of a barricade and decided to collapse the well. Pitons had been surgically placed within the well, Magnus dangling like a spider from its web inspecting the structural integrity of the tunnel.
Old Buric merely watched, his eyes slowly taking to the early morning light it had once known. The Heroes had informed him that the trip for this morning would not be going northward to Andorric’s Stepps but more to the southwest, a city called Dun Moor. He had heard of the city in his youth and was grateful for any place aside from the deeping delve. “Probably,” he contemplated, “there is nothing left for me at home by now anyway.” The rationalization couldn’t complete fend off the sadness of his loss.
A shout preceded Magnus’ return to the surface, that classic childish grin on his place. “It’s perfect. A few good hits in one spot will collapse the entrance. And if there are any following, they’ll be digging for years if they’re not drowned outright. Hammer please?”
Motega grabbed the small hammer, a piton and passed them over to the mage. “You sure?”
“Oh yes,” emphatic nodding, “I did study with a stone masons guild and one of my first teachers taught me quite a lot about architecture. This tunnel isn’t worked and isn’t sturdy by any stretch of my imagination. A few well placed hits and I promise it’ll collapse. Just, uh, do me a favor. When I yell, pull me up quickly.” Instructions delivered, the mage dove back into the hole.
Tobias, Motega, Fitz and even Buric grabbed onto the silken rope, muscles tensed and waited. Twenty-five feet below the sound of metal-on-metal-on-stone echoed upward toward the light.
The earth sighed and trembled a bit. The shifting quickly stopped and the earth was still. A sharp clang assaulted the air followed by a cry. All four above the well pulled sharply on the silken rope and heaved backward, shifting Magnus toward the sky. Magnus’ two-hundred pound frame flew out of the well and onto the ground as the earth roared.
The earth shook and trembled, roaring an unquenchable growl as the mouth began to collapse. Spitting dust into the early morning sky, the mouth closed and the delving deep’s throat also closed. The ground sunk in, a snake slithering northward toward the highest section of Llyndofare’s walls. The serpent stopped easily twenty feet from the main keep, the growl slowly subsiding as the arterial spout of dust and debris settled to the earth.
“Well done, mage,” Fitz congratulated with a pat on the back.
“I second that,” Tobias conceded.
“Thank the Gods!!” screamed Buric.
“Not bad,” grunted Motega. “Let’s go.” The Rorn turned to grab his gear.
Ok folks, here's your first update for Chapter 9. Enjoy!! (BTW, I'm working on another one now, since this isn't all that terribly long)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At daybreak, the Heroes of Marchford stood at the entrance of the well. The quickly rising sun cast constantly shifting shadows into the mouth of the underdark. An inspection of the few remaining splinters of door easily cancelled any thoughts of barricading the well. Even if the pieces had been larger, their ability to hold back the tides of the deep evil would not have made much difference.
Instead, the Heroes dismissed the idea of a barricade and decided to collapse the well. Pitons had been surgically placed within the well, Magnus dangling like a spider from its web inspecting the structural integrity of the tunnel.
Old Buric merely watched, his eyes slowly taking to the early morning light it had once known. The Heroes had informed him that the trip for this morning would not be going northward to Andorric’s Stepps but more to the southwest, a city called Dun Moor. He had heard of the city in his youth and was grateful for any place aside from the deeping delve. “Probably,” he contemplated, “there is nothing left for me at home by now anyway.” The rationalization couldn’t complete fend off the sadness of his loss.
A shout preceded Magnus’ return to the surface, that classic childish grin on his place. “It’s perfect. A few good hits in one spot will collapse the entrance. And if there are any following, they’ll be digging for years if they’re not drowned outright. Hammer please?”
Motega grabbed the small hammer, a piton and passed them over to the mage. “You sure?”
“Oh yes,” emphatic nodding, “I did study with a stone masons guild and one of my first teachers taught me quite a lot about architecture. This tunnel isn’t worked and isn’t sturdy by any stretch of my imagination. A few well placed hits and I promise it’ll collapse. Just, uh, do me a favor. When I yell, pull me up quickly.” Instructions delivered, the mage dove back into the hole.
Tobias, Motega, Fitz and even Buric grabbed onto the silken rope, muscles tensed and waited. Twenty-five feet below the sound of metal-on-metal-on-stone echoed upward toward the light.
The earth sighed and trembled a bit. The shifting quickly stopped and the earth was still. A sharp clang assaulted the air followed by a cry. All four above the well pulled sharply on the silken rope and heaved backward, shifting Magnus toward the sky. Magnus’ two-hundred pound frame flew out of the well and onto the ground as the earth roared.
The earth shook and trembled, roaring an unquenchable growl as the mouth began to collapse. Spitting dust into the early morning sky, the mouth closed and the delving deep’s throat also closed. The ground sunk in, a snake slithering northward toward the highest section of Llyndofare’s walls. The serpent stopped easily twenty feet from the main keep, the growl slowly subsiding as the arterial spout of dust and debris settled to the earth.
“Well done, mage,” Fitz congratulated with a pat on the back.
“I second that,” Tobias conceded.
“Thank the Gods!!” screamed Buric.
“Not bad,” grunted Motega. “Let’s go.” The Rorn turned to grab his gear.
Funeris
First Post
Chapter 9: Death in the Family Continued
Second update for today and twice as long. Woot!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So, where is your heathen friend?” Lady Erigal’s false grin did little to hide her malicious grin. Fitz’s sigh was weary but he knew answers had to be forthcoming.
“She departed. She no longer travels with us.”
“Oh, well,” the grin wasn’t false this time, “I’m sure its for the better. Why anyone would ever want to travel with an enemy of Qwynna Pru, is beyond me. She was a druid you know, dreadful heathens. Even worse than worshippers of Ceria,” the Lady’s gaze paused on Fitz, his religious symbols hidden once again. “Although, not by much.” Her grin was acidic and unforgiving but just as quickly she dropped the façade and asked the question on her mind. “So, why have you troubled me today?”
“Well, we have a new tale to tell,” Fitz began. “Involving this farmer, Buric Godrinson.” Buric stepped forth and bowed his head. Fitz related the story as quickly as possible wanting to be done with the Qwynna Pru witch. “So, we were wondering, if your gracious city wouldn’t mind taking him in since he has no other place to go.”
“Of course he can stay we only request a donation to our True church. To feed and clothe and care for the man obviously.” Another greedy grin spread across her face. “That is, if you have anything to donate.”
Magnus removed one of the ruby funeral gems from the haversack and handed it over. The Lady nodded and accepted the gem, studying it momentarily.
“Myra!” The Lady shouted as much as requested. Her apprentice ran into the room and stumbled when she saw the Heroes.
“Uh, yes ma’am?”
“Take this man and see that he is fed and clothed.”
“Yes, my lady.” Myra escorted Buric out of the room.
“Is that all for today then?”
“Yes, Lady Erigal. That is it, this time.” Fitz responded.
“Very well, then. You’re dismissed.” She waved them out of her private chamber without a second look.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tobias had wandered for quite some time. Motega had gone in search of information regarding the Scorpiots, Dwem, and anything else that may have crept upward from the deep dark. Fitz and Magnus had taken the atrocious medallion to have it destroyed and Tobias wandered off all alone and without purpose.
Upon noticing his surroundings, Tobias realized he had wandered into the poorest section of Dun Moor. Shacks no larger that seven-foot square stood in dirty rows mating alongside the dirt street. Windows, no more than a roughly cut hole to allow in light, pierced the walls in random spots. They were empty hollow holes that gaped outward, showing a lack of furnishing inside. If a single rug broke the crude monotony of the dirt floors, the family was obviously well off.
Each little house was crudely formed with rotted and splintering wood. Holes pierced each in random places allowing an inside view aside from the rough windows. Drafts of cold wind would stir through the domiciles in the winter, claiming the weak, the elderly, and the young.
A depressing site it was. For all of civilization’s upsides, the downsides were more pronounced. Poverty always flourished in cities where the greatest manors and residences dwarfed the streets. Of course, the impoverished areas were always kept separated from the upper-class homes.
Tobias grimaced. “No justice at all,” he mumbled to himself.
Tobias stopped as he approached an occupied shack. Two voices, male and female were whispering heatedly inside. The paladin slipped up to the window to understand the sorrow that seemed to emanate from the hovel.
“Look, I don’t know what to say. It wasn’t my fault. He just…he just didn’t like me, I guess. And no, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“You NEED to work! His fever isn’t going to pass. I won’t have him…just like Alec. So young. He deserves better!”
“I’m TRYING! The merchant…he accused me of thievery. I…you know I would never. I mean I smuggled some of the less rotten fruits home…but we need to eat too! And they were going bad, he couldn’t have sold them. I never stole any of the good bread or fruits he had! I worked hard. He just….just didn’t like me.”
“No excuses! You go back out there! Find SOME way, ANY way. Get the money for the healers. NOW! I won’t have our second son die too!”
Tobias and the father sighed at the same time. The father of the sick child just stood motionless watching his wife’s tears pour down and over her cheeks. Tobias tore off a small piece of parchment and drew some ink from his own satchel. With quick strokes he drew Reddel’s holy symbol on the parchment. He set the parchment down on the crude stoop and weighed it down with two handfuls of silver.
Standing quickly, Tobias pounded upon the door and darted around the side of the shack.
“What in the Gods’ name?” The father questioned as he pushed outward on the half-inch thick door. “By the Gods!” He grabbed the money and parchment pulling both inside. “Honey! Honey! Look!”
For the rest of the afternoon, Tobias walked along the impoverished streets. By the time he returned to the inn, his sack of money was nearly depleted.
Second update for today and twice as long. Woot!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So, where is your heathen friend?” Lady Erigal’s false grin did little to hide her malicious grin. Fitz’s sigh was weary but he knew answers had to be forthcoming.
“She departed. She no longer travels with us.”
“Oh, well,” the grin wasn’t false this time, “I’m sure its for the better. Why anyone would ever want to travel with an enemy of Qwynna Pru, is beyond me. She was a druid you know, dreadful heathens. Even worse than worshippers of Ceria,” the Lady’s gaze paused on Fitz, his religious symbols hidden once again. “Although, not by much.” Her grin was acidic and unforgiving but just as quickly she dropped the façade and asked the question on her mind. “So, why have you troubled me today?”
“Well, we have a new tale to tell,” Fitz began. “Involving this farmer, Buric Godrinson.” Buric stepped forth and bowed his head. Fitz related the story as quickly as possible wanting to be done with the Qwynna Pru witch. “So, we were wondering, if your gracious city wouldn’t mind taking him in since he has no other place to go.”
“Of course he can stay we only request a donation to our True church. To feed and clothe and care for the man obviously.” Another greedy grin spread across her face. “That is, if you have anything to donate.”
Magnus removed one of the ruby funeral gems from the haversack and handed it over. The Lady nodded and accepted the gem, studying it momentarily.
“Myra!” The Lady shouted as much as requested. Her apprentice ran into the room and stumbled when she saw the Heroes.
“Uh, yes ma’am?”
“Take this man and see that he is fed and clothed.”
“Yes, my lady.” Myra escorted Buric out of the room.
“Is that all for today then?”
“Yes, Lady Erigal. That is it, this time.” Fitz responded.
“Very well, then. You’re dismissed.” She waved them out of her private chamber without a second look.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tobias had wandered for quite some time. Motega had gone in search of information regarding the Scorpiots, Dwem, and anything else that may have crept upward from the deep dark. Fitz and Magnus had taken the atrocious medallion to have it destroyed and Tobias wandered off all alone and without purpose.
Upon noticing his surroundings, Tobias realized he had wandered into the poorest section of Dun Moor. Shacks no larger that seven-foot square stood in dirty rows mating alongside the dirt street. Windows, no more than a roughly cut hole to allow in light, pierced the walls in random spots. They were empty hollow holes that gaped outward, showing a lack of furnishing inside. If a single rug broke the crude monotony of the dirt floors, the family was obviously well off.
Each little house was crudely formed with rotted and splintering wood. Holes pierced each in random places allowing an inside view aside from the rough windows. Drafts of cold wind would stir through the domiciles in the winter, claiming the weak, the elderly, and the young.
A depressing site it was. For all of civilization’s upsides, the downsides were more pronounced. Poverty always flourished in cities where the greatest manors and residences dwarfed the streets. Of course, the impoverished areas were always kept separated from the upper-class homes.
Tobias grimaced. “No justice at all,” he mumbled to himself.
Tobias stopped as he approached an occupied shack. Two voices, male and female were whispering heatedly inside. The paladin slipped up to the window to understand the sorrow that seemed to emanate from the hovel.
“Look, I don’t know what to say. It wasn’t my fault. He just…he just didn’t like me, I guess. And no, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“You NEED to work! His fever isn’t going to pass. I won’t have him…just like Alec. So young. He deserves better!”
“I’m TRYING! The merchant…he accused me of thievery. I…you know I would never. I mean I smuggled some of the less rotten fruits home…but we need to eat too! And they were going bad, he couldn’t have sold them. I never stole any of the good bread or fruits he had! I worked hard. He just….just didn’t like me.”
“No excuses! You go back out there! Find SOME way, ANY way. Get the money for the healers. NOW! I won’t have our second son die too!”
Tobias and the father sighed at the same time. The father of the sick child just stood motionless watching his wife’s tears pour down and over her cheeks. Tobias tore off a small piece of parchment and drew some ink from his own satchel. With quick strokes he drew Reddel’s holy symbol on the parchment. He set the parchment down on the crude stoop and weighed it down with two handfuls of silver.
Standing quickly, Tobias pounded upon the door and darted around the side of the shack.
“What in the Gods’ name?” The father questioned as he pushed outward on the half-inch thick door. “By the Gods!” He grabbed the money and parchment pulling both inside. “Honey! Honey! Look!”
For the rest of the afternoon, Tobias walked along the impoverished streets. By the time he returned to the inn, his sack of money was nearly depleted.
