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Journal of the Souls of Legend (completed)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 7489294" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center">Journal of the Souls of Legend</p> <p style="text-align: center">(Based on a homebrew campaign in the Forgotten Realms)</p> <p style="text-align: center">(This campaign is finished)</p> <p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center">Story by Nthal</p> <p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center"><strong>Introduction - Harsh Landings</strong></p><p></p><p><em>It always seems that the interesting stories, start with the unexpected. It’s like nothing is ever planned or is part of the hero’s own grand design. An event occurs, and the hero jumps right in and starts. And so, it was with me as I jumped right in. Or rather dove right in.</em></p><p></p><p>I ran to the bar and leapt forward, aiming for the hole that led behind the bar. I wanted to avoid the now inevitable fight between a pair of patrons. Now, I probably should have expected it, after all when the bar’s glassware is all made of metal you must assume that they have seen a scrap or two and they were tired of replacing the mugs. The <em>Smoldering Corpse </em>bar had indeed seen many scraps, and I as a reasonable mortal, had no interest being anywhere near the Malebranche and the Glabrezu, and their dispute.</p><p></p><p>I grabbed my pack and ran to the bar and dove for the square opening that led to behind the bar. Which is when everything started to slow down. I was flying low to the floor when I saw it; A pinwheel of color right underneath the bar and before I could open my mouth to swear something appropriate, I passed through the threshold.</p><p></p><p>Passing through, I first felt the warmth on my hands and arms, and then my face. Bright light flooded my eyes, the scent of a skanky bar’s spilled bub with the overtones of brimstone fell away to something…cleaner and fresher. The sound of air rushing by my head was growing, as I realized I was falling, tumbling over in the air. Glancing down I saw the rapidly approaching ground. I shut my eyes tightly and prepared for a harsh landing. Then I hit the earth hard, landing on my back, my pack landing on the ground nearby.</p><p></p><p>This was not the start of a good day</p><p></p><p>I lay there stunned, at first unable to breathe and barely able to moan with my eyes closed. Finally, after a moment I started to gulp down air again. I then opened my eyes, so I could assess where I might be.</p><p></p><p>I was staring up towards a wooden building, with a pair of very large doors. I had apparently fell from a large open doorway that was right above them. Projecting from that doorway was a beam with a pulley at the end. Overall the wood was worn and grey. Behind the building in the air were…blue skies?</p><p></p><p>This set off warnings in my head. I quickly stood up and looked around. It was clear I wasn’t in the city anymore. There was a lot of dirt; but no stone at all on the ground. But there was a distinct lack of buildings near me, beyond the large building I was near, and another smaller one nearby. There was some fencing near the buildings. But what stood out was there was a of living…plant stuff.</p><p>This was about as far from the city as I could get. But that didn’t really answer where I was. So, I started looking around, trying to find some familiar landmarks.</p><p></p><p>The first one I was looking for, I didn’t see. After turning around about three times, I was sure of it. the Spire wasn’t visible. It’s not exactly something you can miss; a tall thin mountain, a needle miles wide at the base and extending straight up from the Outlands, into the sky. It was said to be infinite in height, leading to the slang “climbing the Spire” to mean an impossible task. And at the very top, you can see the city spinning at the top of the infinite Spire; a paradox as how is there a top? But impossibilities are the province of the multiverse. But the fact I couldn’t even see it told me I was far from home; I’m not even in the Outlands.</p><p></p><p>The next thing I realized, was that there was a glowing ball of light in the air. It was hard to look at directly, but I had a good guess on what it was. It must be a sun. That narrowed down the list of planes I could be at; most of the planes on the wheel didn’t have one. But there was one set of planes that did consistently, but they weren’t on the wheel at all.</p><p></p><p>Which at that point, I realized I didn’t see a portal either. While I had been on the ground for only a brief time, there still should have been light from the portal’s swirl. But, guessing where I fell from the opening from the building’s second floor, the doorway was dark; no swirling color at all.</p><p></p><p>I then acted on my next instinct and panicked. Grabbing my pack, I raced to the doors of the building and with effort pulled one open. The interior was empty of anything living, but there was a lot of dried plant stuff on the ground. Quickly I spied a ladder that led up to a loft area, saw the open upper door with the beam and pulley, and promptly ran and dove out that doorway headfirst, thinking of home.</p><p></p><p>I was rewarded with another trip to the dirt. I landed a tad better, but the pain was still the same. And I did this again and again. Each time thinking of something different. I tried to recall was I was thinking when the portal appeared. Trying to think what might have triggered the portal. By the fifth time of landing on the dirt, I gave up. I turned over on my back and screamed a curse and closed my eyes.</p><p></p><p>I must be on the sodding prime. No, I was <em>hipped</em> on the sodding prime. And clearly didn’t have the key or any way to open a portal to go home. That was assuming there even <em>was</em> a portal on this end. It could have easily been a one-way portal. Considering no-one else had appeared here with me, it must have been bad luck. I didn’t have anyone that was so red with me that they would have hipped me intentionally.</p><p></p><p>I was lying there thinking to myself when I heard a voice. “Er, sorry m’Lady are…are you alright?”</p><p>The voice sounded hesitant, almost afraid. And it sounded like it belonged to a young man. I kept my eyes closed and replied, “No. No, I am not alright. I am laying on the ground here, and with no way to get back to my home.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah. Well…er…right,” which then led to a long pause before he spoke again, “So why were you running into the barn and jumping out the hayloft door?” sounding hesitant and now confused.</p><p></p><p>“Looking for the portal, of course.” I replied. “I imagine you don’t know what I’m talking about do you?”</p><p></p><p>After the briefest of pauses, came the expected answer; “Um, not really. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else jump out that doorway before without some hay to land in. But um…are you hurt…did…did you need help…up?”</p><p></p><p>He sounded earnest and honest enough, and I extended my left arm out and felt him grasp it around the wrist and was quickly pulled to my feet. At which point I finally opened my eyes.</p><p>He must have been in his teens. Light brown hair and brown eyes. His skin was well tanned, and it wasn’t yellow stained like many other city goers. He was not a boy and not yet a man either, with limbs all gangly with wiry muscles that said that he labored hard.</p><p></p><p>But the instant he locked eyes with mine I could see the color drain from his face and he started to pull his hand away, “By the gods…what…what are you?”</p><p></p><p>I cocked my head to one side and I’m pretty sure gave him a puzzled look. But I didn’t let go of his wrist just yet.</p><p></p><p>“What do you mean, ‘what am I?’ What do you think I am?”</p><p></p><p>He still was looking at me unnerved. I usually get reactions with people when they first meet me, as I do have some striking features. But I had never seen anyone act <em>this</em> way before in the city.</p><p></p><p>“I…I…dunno. I mean your hair is …is…is a pretty …um…shiny g-g-gold. B-b-but your…eyes. I c-c-can see m-m-m-yself in them. Like m-m-mirrors.”</p><p></p><p>Sodding Baator. A clueless Prime. This was indeed going to be a long day.</p><p></p><p>I started talking soothingly and smiled, “It’s alright…my eyes are a bit different. But I’m not going to nick you or anything,” releasing his arm and holding up my hands up, fingers apart.</p><p></p><p>He pulled his hand away like it was stung, looking at me wildly and he took a step away from me, but he didn’t retreat further. “A bit d-d-different. That…that’s putting it mildly.”</p><p></p><p>“I take it you have never met an Aasimar?” I said still smiling and still cursing in my head.</p><p></p><p>“A what…what is...a…Aasim…”</p><p></p><p>“…mar,” I finish. Thinking for a second, I then said, “You have heard of angels, right?” to which he nodded quickly. Still smiling I continued, “Think of me as…part angel. And, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m just a little…lost. So, if you can point me in the direction of…” to which I then stopped.</p><p></p><p>Where did I want to go? I barely knew where I was in the multiverse, and the idea of being lost on a Prime plane didn’t appeal. But I had no idea what to ask for. So, I improvised, assuming that there must be a small settlement nearby, as it would be if I were in the Outlands.</p><p></p><p>“…a town nearby?” I finished.</p><p></p><p>He was still a little wide eyed, but at the word ‘Angel’ he relaxed a bit.</p><p></p><p>“You…you do look like one m’lady. You’re awfully p-p-pretty like what an Angel shou…should be like. Those eyes are…are…well are a bit strange. Anyway…we aren’t far from town. It’s just down the road, about two miles.” He said, pointing to a road just beyond a nearby fence. He then frowned and asked. “Um, m’lady, you said you were…lost. Where <em>are</em> you from?”</p><p></p><p>I was already picking up my pack and checking inventory to make sure that I still had my daggers and things. I then looked at him again and responded</p><p></p><p>“Where am I from? Sigil, the City of Doors.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah…. where’s that?”</p><p></p><p>I just winced and said, “Far from here I’m afraid…thanks for the directions.” And I started to make my way</p><p>to the road.</p><p></p><p>“Uh…ok,” seeming somewhat relieved that I was leaving. I had made to the fence and was climbing over it, when he rushed towards me a bit and called out. “Um, sorry m’lady but…what’s your name?”</p><p></p><p>I glanced over my shoulder and gave him a smile and said.</p><p></p><p>“Myrai.”</p><p></p><p><strong>Session breakdown</strong></p><p></p><p>So, when a group of us online decided to meet and play a campaign of Dungeon’s and Dragons, this was my starting point. I knew that we were going to be in the Forgotten Realms but I wanted something different. As it turned out, I was replaying <strong>Planescape: Torment</strong> and I had started diving deeper into the setting. I never had any real experience with it when it was in production and was a broke high school student to boot at the time.</p><p></p><p>So, the idea popped into my mind of a Sigilite dropped into the Prime with no way home. A new Yorker dropped on the west coast, and so Myrai was born.</p><p></p><p>Of course, since there wasn’t anything official, I had to stitch Sigil’s timelines with the realms. After talking with the DM, we basically decided that timeline wise, that while we were starting in 1491 DR, Sigil’s timeline was only two years after the events of “Die Vecna, Die’ and placing the Faction War about five years in the past.</p><p></p><p>And so, the game began, and I was its unofficial historian. The above was the prose that came to mind when the DM just dropped me outside of town.</p><p></p><p>That was over a year ago, and hundreds of pages of notes ago. And I am rewriting those notes into something more like a story for no other reason that I want to.</p><p></p><p>So who is Myrai? Myrai is an Aasimar, and has metallic gold hair, and eyes that look like they were freshly minted chrome from Chiba (and now I think of it, the cant and Shadowrun have a lot in common chummer…er berk. Whatever). You won’t find her stats here, but feel free to guess that, and class(ses) as you go.</p><p></p><p>So, enjoy!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 7489294, member: 6971069"] [CENTER]Journal of the Souls of Legend (Based on a homebrew campaign in the Forgotten Realms) (This campaign is finished) Story by Nthal [B]Introduction - Harsh Landings[/B][/CENTER] [I]It always seems that the interesting stories, start with the unexpected. It’s like nothing is ever planned or is part of the hero’s own grand design. An event occurs, and the hero jumps right in and starts. And so, it was with me as I jumped right in. Or rather dove right in.[/I] I ran to the bar and leapt forward, aiming for the hole that led behind the bar. I wanted to avoid the now inevitable fight between a pair of patrons. Now, I probably should have expected it, after all when the bar’s glassware is all made of metal you must assume that they have seen a scrap or two and they were tired of replacing the mugs. The [I]Smoldering Corpse [/I]bar had indeed seen many scraps, and I as a reasonable mortal, had no interest being anywhere near the Malebranche and the Glabrezu, and their dispute. I grabbed my pack and ran to the bar and dove for the square opening that led to behind the bar. Which is when everything started to slow down. I was flying low to the floor when I saw it; A pinwheel of color right underneath the bar and before I could open my mouth to swear something appropriate, I passed through the threshold. Passing through, I first felt the warmth on my hands and arms, and then my face. Bright light flooded my eyes, the scent of a skanky bar’s spilled bub with the overtones of brimstone fell away to something…cleaner and fresher. The sound of air rushing by my head was growing, as I realized I was falling, tumbling over in the air. Glancing down I saw the rapidly approaching ground. I shut my eyes tightly and prepared for a harsh landing. Then I hit the earth hard, landing on my back, my pack landing on the ground nearby. This was not the start of a good day I lay there stunned, at first unable to breathe and barely able to moan with my eyes closed. Finally, after a moment I started to gulp down air again. I then opened my eyes, so I could assess where I might be. I was staring up towards a wooden building, with a pair of very large doors. I had apparently fell from a large open doorway that was right above them. Projecting from that doorway was a beam with a pulley at the end. Overall the wood was worn and grey. Behind the building in the air were…blue skies? This set off warnings in my head. I quickly stood up and looked around. It was clear I wasn’t in the city anymore. There was a lot of dirt; but no stone at all on the ground. But there was a distinct lack of buildings near me, beyond the large building I was near, and another smaller one nearby. There was some fencing near the buildings. But what stood out was there was a of living…plant stuff. This was about as far from the city as I could get. But that didn’t really answer where I was. So, I started looking around, trying to find some familiar landmarks. The first one I was looking for, I didn’t see. After turning around about three times, I was sure of it. the Spire wasn’t visible. It’s not exactly something you can miss; a tall thin mountain, a needle miles wide at the base and extending straight up from the Outlands, into the sky. It was said to be infinite in height, leading to the slang “climbing the Spire” to mean an impossible task. And at the very top, you can see the city spinning at the top of the infinite Spire; a paradox as how is there a top? But impossibilities are the province of the multiverse. But the fact I couldn’t even see it told me I was far from home; I’m not even in the Outlands. The next thing I realized, was that there was a glowing ball of light in the air. It was hard to look at directly, but I had a good guess on what it was. It must be a sun. That narrowed down the list of planes I could be at; most of the planes on the wheel didn’t have one. But there was one set of planes that did consistently, but they weren’t on the wheel at all. Which at that point, I realized I didn’t see a portal either. While I had been on the ground for only a brief time, there still should have been light from the portal’s swirl. But, guessing where I fell from the opening from the building’s second floor, the doorway was dark; no swirling color at all. I then acted on my next instinct and panicked. Grabbing my pack, I raced to the doors of the building and with effort pulled one open. The interior was empty of anything living, but there was a lot of dried plant stuff on the ground. Quickly I spied a ladder that led up to a loft area, saw the open upper door with the beam and pulley, and promptly ran and dove out that doorway headfirst, thinking of home. I was rewarded with another trip to the dirt. I landed a tad better, but the pain was still the same. And I did this again and again. Each time thinking of something different. I tried to recall was I was thinking when the portal appeared. Trying to think what might have triggered the portal. By the fifth time of landing on the dirt, I gave up. I turned over on my back and screamed a curse and closed my eyes. I must be on the sodding prime. No, I was [I]hipped[/I] on the sodding prime. And clearly didn’t have the key or any way to open a portal to go home. That was assuming there even [I]was[/I] a portal on this end. It could have easily been a one-way portal. Considering no-one else had appeared here with me, it must have been bad luck. I didn’t have anyone that was so red with me that they would have hipped me intentionally. I was lying there thinking to myself when I heard a voice. “Er, sorry m’Lady are…are you alright?” The voice sounded hesitant, almost afraid. And it sounded like it belonged to a young man. I kept my eyes closed and replied, “No. No, I am not alright. I am laying on the ground here, and with no way to get back to my home.” “Ah. Well…er…right,” which then led to a long pause before he spoke again, “So why were you running into the barn and jumping out the hayloft door?” sounding hesitant and now confused. “Looking for the portal, of course.” I replied. “I imagine you don’t know what I’m talking about do you?” After the briefest of pauses, came the expected answer; “Um, not really. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else jump out that doorway before without some hay to land in. But um…are you hurt…did…did you need help…up?” He sounded earnest and honest enough, and I extended my left arm out and felt him grasp it around the wrist and was quickly pulled to my feet. At which point I finally opened my eyes. He must have been in his teens. Light brown hair and brown eyes. His skin was well tanned, and it wasn’t yellow stained like many other city goers. He was not a boy and not yet a man either, with limbs all gangly with wiry muscles that said that he labored hard. But the instant he locked eyes with mine I could see the color drain from his face and he started to pull his hand away, “By the gods…what…what are you?” I cocked my head to one side and I’m pretty sure gave him a puzzled look. But I didn’t let go of his wrist just yet. “What do you mean, ‘what am I?’ What do you think I am?” He still was looking at me unnerved. I usually get reactions with people when they first meet me, as I do have some striking features. But I had never seen anyone act [I]this[/I] way before in the city. “I…I…dunno. I mean your hair is …is…is a pretty …um…shiny g-g-gold. B-b-but your…eyes. I c-c-can see m-m-m-yself in them. Like m-m-mirrors.” Sodding Baator. A clueless Prime. This was indeed going to be a long day. I started talking soothingly and smiled, “It’s alright…my eyes are a bit different. But I’m not going to nick you or anything,” releasing his arm and holding up my hands up, fingers apart. He pulled his hand away like it was stung, looking at me wildly and he took a step away from me, but he didn’t retreat further. “A bit d-d-different. That…that’s putting it mildly.” “I take it you have never met an Aasimar?” I said still smiling and still cursing in my head. “A what…what is...a…Aasim…” “…mar,” I finish. Thinking for a second, I then said, “You have heard of angels, right?” to which he nodded quickly. Still smiling I continued, “Think of me as…part angel. And, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m just a little…lost. So, if you can point me in the direction of…” to which I then stopped. Where did I want to go? I barely knew where I was in the multiverse, and the idea of being lost on a Prime plane didn’t appeal. But I had no idea what to ask for. So, I improvised, assuming that there must be a small settlement nearby, as it would be if I were in the Outlands. “…a town nearby?” I finished. He was still a little wide eyed, but at the word ‘Angel’ he relaxed a bit. “You…you do look like one m’lady. You’re awfully p-p-pretty like what an Angel shou…should be like. Those eyes are…are…well are a bit strange. Anyway…we aren’t far from town. It’s just down the road, about two miles.” He said, pointing to a road just beyond a nearby fence. He then frowned and asked. “Um, m’lady, you said you were…lost. Where [I]are[/I] you from?” I was already picking up my pack and checking inventory to make sure that I still had my daggers and things. I then looked at him again and responded “Where am I from? Sigil, the City of Doors.” “Ah…. where’s that?” I just winced and said, “Far from here I’m afraid…thanks for the directions.” And I started to make my way to the road. “Uh…ok,” seeming somewhat relieved that I was leaving. I had made to the fence and was climbing over it, when he rushed towards me a bit and called out. “Um, sorry m’lady but…what’s your name?” I glanced over my shoulder and gave him a smile and said. “Myrai.” [B]Session breakdown[/B] So, when a group of us online decided to meet and play a campaign of Dungeon’s and Dragons, this was my starting point. I knew that we were going to be in the Forgotten Realms but I wanted something different. As it turned out, I was replaying [B]Planescape: Torment[/B] and I had started diving deeper into the setting. I never had any real experience with it when it was in production and was a broke high school student to boot at the time. So, the idea popped into my mind of a Sigilite dropped into the Prime with no way home. A new Yorker dropped on the west coast, and so Myrai was born. Of course, since there wasn’t anything official, I had to stitch Sigil’s timelines with the realms. After talking with the DM, we basically decided that timeline wise, that while we were starting in 1491 DR, Sigil’s timeline was only two years after the events of “Die Vecna, Die’ and placing the Faction War about five years in the past. And so, the game began, and I was its unofficial historian. The above was the prose that came to mind when the DM just dropped me outside of town. That was over a year ago, and hundreds of pages of notes ago. And I am rewriting those notes into something more like a story for no other reason that I want to. So who is Myrai? Myrai is an Aasimar, and has metallic gold hair, and eyes that look like they were freshly minted chrome from Chiba (and now I think of it, the cant and Shadowrun have a lot in common chummer…er berk. Whatever). You won’t find her stats here, but feel free to guess that, and class(ses) as you go. So, enjoy! [/QUOTE]
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