Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.
Rocket your D&D 5E and Level Up: Advanced 5E games into space! Alpha Star Magazine Is Launching... Right Now!

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Funeris" data-source="post: 2886408" data-attributes="member: 22792">Chapter 13: Family, Responsibility, and Voyage (Continued)Not too long.  Eh...guess I'm not in a writing mood yet again.-------------------------------------------------------------Sleep or death seemed the only choices.  Yet, the Gordian Drake maintained some semblance of consciousness beneath his heavy lids, behind the shifting kaleidoscope of memories and thoughts of his alcohol-drowned mind.His memories, often stirred by the drink, focused again on the defining moments of his life.  Barbarians, mercenaries or worse, others labeled his race.  But they had an honor the greedy, finicky Rhelmsmen could never understand.The Bear.  His dreams always returned to that gigantic, black beast.He had been fourteen, not yet a man, and still a runt among his clan.  They had given him a sickle, a simple farming tool, and sent him into the fierce Gordian wilderness.  A winter so harsh, no Rhelmsman could have survived.  A Rornman could have, but they had thicker blood than those of Rhelm.He had been fourteen and on his own, traversing the sharp inclines and scavenging for food.  Instructed to not return, he traveled until he had conquered the beast that walked both in his soul and upon the lands of men.  His ancestors were to guide him in his quest and so he was given neither sustenance nor protection aside from the rusted blade.  Naked, he had stalked the forests until the beast found him.  It found him on the seventh day.  The bear had awoken hungry during the middle of its hibernation.  Out of the cave it had charged the man-child.In that moment, Drake had felt the spirits of his ancestors guiding his hand.  He had known fear as he slid under a swiping claw.  He had tasted blood as the rough sickle rubbed through the fierce hide.He felt and tasted both again.  His inebriated hands struggled to unbind the weapons that were hidden under the cloak he slept in.The blade had tripped the bear up, allowing the boy to move past, unharmed.  The beast’s momentum carried the bear forward and Drake found himself in the air.  The sickle plunged down into the base of the beast’s skull.As one, they fell.The sickle dug deeper.And then Drake was alone, atop his kill.  The fierce winds, numbing his body, forced him into action.  Calling upon his ancestors’ guidance, he peeled the flesh from the creature, wrapping himself.  He severed the meaty thighs and cooked them over a fire he had started with naught but flint.Drake found his strength.His hands released the sickle and the francisca as he rolled about on the small cot.His family had crafted a proper cloak from the fur of the bear upon his return.  He had been gifted the two magnificent weapons he yet carried:  A francisca and a sickle; both handles ended in a fierce bear’s face.  And the Gordian had entered manhood as a respected member of his clan.Those years had faded fast.Drake shifted painfully in his half-sleep to his side.  His stomach twisted and lurched, his lips parting to spill a torrent of warm fluid into his black beard and onto the cot.  With a moan, the Gordian rolled onto his back again.The world was twisting, his memories tearing forward to the present.  He pushed himself up onto his elbows with a sudden startled alertness.  Drake knew where he was and knew that the Heroes where on board.  For a moment, he felt compelled to pull himself up and introduce himself properly.  As he shifted, another bout of vertigo gripped his stomach.  His head wrenched to the side.Hot liquid spilled onto the floor and unconsciousness pulled the giant man into slumber.</blockquote>

Verification