Knights of the Daystorm

[Pillars of Hercules]

Color me hooked

Jairami,

I'm sure it can be intimidating to post a story hour fearing either ridicule or, worse, silence.

Let me assure you that I am in for the duration - this story hour grabbed me immediately.

Major OUCH on the cut her in half decision, although I can sort of see the player's rationale. I look forward to the ripples in the pond that particular choice will create!

I'll just pull up a chair over here by the fire and listen to your yarn. Keep posting!

 

[Darklone]

Re: No kidding

I also liked the description of the armor. Very neat.
I look forward to more. (And you guys play 10 to 12 hours at a time!?!? Wow, reminds me of high school. Gosh, I miss those days.)

Right. Forgot those praises about the armour and the dreams...

12 hours at a time? Hmm. I gotta get my group back to that hut in the mountains where we play 3 days with a bit of sleeping and eating...

 

[Jairami]

Thanks for the support guys. I'm in the process of pulling my thoughts together for todays games and writing contingency plans for the things they are going to do that I didn't expect.

Of course we haven't caught up to that yet. So I guess it'd be better to talk about the next post.

Next post will have a betrayal or two, Khuuld transformed, a new party member (and a half), and an answer to the burning question...

How many diving ravens can you kill without combat reflexes or great cleave?

 

[Velenne]

w00t!! I've been trying to get Jair to make a story hour of his campaign for the longest time. I really enjoy each of his games and he does a great job of giving detail to every city, every person (even shopkeeps and peasants) and the events that are occuring outside of the PC's actions.

Killing the girl? I mean why not cut her hands?

At the time, there were black tendrils of energy coming from the black disc behind her. She screamed in agony with every one and Collin thought it was killing her. Worse, he thought, if it did, it would consume her soul. Since trying to free her from the black energy was futile, we did the only thing we could. We killed her to save her soul from the disc. Well that didn't work now did it?

It's a guilt that Collin bears now which gives him the drive to face every adversity and conflict since that day. Because of his actions, one of his most beloved childhood friends was killed, and another tainted or possessed by the same darkness. It should have been him, he feels.

I also liked the description of the armor. Very neat.

Neat? NEAT!? It scared the piss out of poor Frederick who was actually afraid to strike Gaidri for fear of wounding some forsaken souls. Oh and another thing that didn't get mentioned (understandable since this game happened many months ago) was the blue eyed, man-sized bats flying around the vaulted ceiling above us. Every time we tried something with Sara they would keen out. Luckily for us, they never attacked or threatened (though Byron had to test one by putting an arrow into it...). Combined, the whole scene was like something out of a horrific Ravenloft campaign.

Also, once the black swirling disc was done consuming poor Sara, the bonds that held her disappeared. Not wanting her body to rot on a profane altar for all time, Collin and Tylette wrapped her in two bedrolls (she had pretty much bled out across the alter, so it wasn't all too messy) and the party began the long trip back to our tiny village of Ardonia to bury her there.

Our poor party. When we're not squabbling, we getting ourselves wrapped up in the goings-on of wherever we happen to be and feel obliged to solve their problems ourselves. But when we click, it's a beautful and fearful sight to behold. Khuuld's giant sword dashing skulls left and right. Byron, who despite being blind, manages to target and pincushion his prey with seeming ease. Our poor low-level casters (the psion and the sorceror) who do our part and then watch as the beef does most of the work.

 

[Darklone]

Hmm

Byron is blind? cute... somehow didn't realize that.

How many diving ravens can you kill without Combat Reflexes? Ask me again why I prefer Burning hands towards Magic Missile! BURN BABY BURN!

 

[Jairami]

As the rain faded to a steady mist, Frederick and Byron came to the conclusion that Gaedri was probably not of his own mind and his actions were motivated most likely by a darker power. Given that guesswork they decided that the least they could do was give him a proper burial. Collin was capable of summoning dependable horses from the ether, but maintained that he would not be able to keep two horses with them at all times. Somehow, Frederick's shield got elected as the digging instrument. In the pre-dawn murk, they slogged mud just inside the outer pillars of the broken temple, beyond the blasted flagstones.

Khuuld had apparently slipped away unseen to think or hunt or some such, but given the grisly task Collin had that morning of attempting to wrap poor Sara in his bedroll, and Tylette's wracked nerves that morning from her disturbing nightmares, no one gave it much thought.

Collin and Tylette did their best to secure Sara's body on the horse he summoned, but regardless of their efforts she still ended up with half of her balancing the other half on either side of the horse in two horrifying lumps. Unshed tears shined in both Collin and Tylette's eyes as they tried not to notice.

Khuuld came back, finding Byron and Frederick muddy and steaming in the cold misty morning, his breath condensing in front of him. Both went wide-eyed and rigid at the sight of the black irises of his eyes and the jet black color of his hair. Hardly noticing their reaction he asked if everyone was ready to set forth.

Not knowing what else to do, they nodded their heads and walked out, armed and armored into the surrounding woods. The trees were black with ravens, but where there had been hundreds, there were now far too many count. They seemed limitless, there had to be thousands of them. With expressions varying from wild-eyed fear to guilty resignation to grim preparation, they marched straight into the midst of the black host.

And the raven's parted before them as a great black sheet rent asunder.

Or so it seemed. Pausing for a second, not knowing whether to feel relieved or even more terrified, a tacit agreement was made by silently looking around and receiving nods that it was best not to test their fortune and to proceed with all speed. But as they started forth, the ravens rushed in to fill in behind them. The agitated swarm formed a cacaphony of sound with wings flapping in every direction as they shot from branch to branch following the group but never coming closer than ten feet to them.

For hours the group walked like this through the thinly wooded area, surrounded by thousands of evershifting, cawing ravens. White knuckles gripped weapons as nerves frayed and silence gripped the party by the throat amidst the din. Not a word of comfort was to be had among the tight lipped, tight eyed party.

By chance at one point, Khuuld paused to consider one of the larger ravens who stood out from the milling mass as another red-eyed specimen. While the murderous legions of ravens sped from branch to branch, never sitting for long, seeming to mask their numbers in the milling chaos, the red-eyed ravens never seemed to move. They sat calmly in the hurricane, watching with tiny red eyes every move the party made.

Unnerving didn't begin to describe it. And then the ravens stopped receding. Frederick walked to almost within arm's reach of the raven tempest, when he stopped, turned and saw Khuuld standing behind the party a ways, looking ponderously into the black cloud. Then the blood drained from his face as he watched a single raven swoop down towards Khuuld and perch easily on his outstreched arm.

That black-eyed face turned to regard Frederick and he was sure that he had seen his last day.

Unbeknownst to the other members of the party, Khuuld had gone off that morning hunting a voice he had heard. He searched every inch of the temple he could find but never did the voice get any louder or any softer. And then it began speaking as if to him.

It was mostly non-sensical at first, wandering off into babbling drivel as often as not, but the occasional perceptive statement would shock Khuuld into standing there, wondering. The voice was inside his head.

What had stopped Khuuld was a giggling cackle of, "Call to my pretties... You're mine, you're mine, you're mine, just as they..."

 

[Jairami]

A few moments of thunderous silence among the party later, and Khuuld resumed striding forward again. This time, with not a line of caution or worry on his face, and an intensity had entered his eyes. He walked right past Frederick and the stunned pair of Collin and Tylette as Frederick whispered in a tight voice, hardly moving his head or lips what had happened to Byron.

Byron knocked an arrow and Frederick hissed at him.

That hadn't worked very well last time either. With Khuuld moving and the rest of the party motionless, the true barrier of the ravens was painfully apparent, and shock and apprehention were no match for fear of the ravens closing in behind them. As the ravens neared from the other side, everyone was quick to step to following their now dark-haired companion through the woods and back out onto the plains headed south.

Absolute silence still held the group with the exception of Khuuld who would now and again wonder aloud. Or perhaps talk to someone...

At the end of the day, still surrounded on all sides by a now very blatant carpet of ravens all around them, the group tried to set up some kind of camp and at least pretend to sleep in preparation for their continued journey. Darting glances and sideways looks at Khuuld all had sinister interpretations cries of warning from Khuuld's inner voice. It also began speaking more eloquently, sometimes swaying Khuuld's opinion, using a more refined and less sporadic method of speech. Perhaps stranger, it started whispering in a strange language Khuuld could not understand. Almost chanting, the volume rising and falling rhythmically for hours at a time. That night very little sleep was to be had as Collin tried to force unconsciousness on himself with eshti.

In the morning the tense journey began again, this time with rigidly polite conversation going back and forth. Hidden meanings were again pointed out by the voice in Khuuld's head as his eyes narrowed on Tylette especially. She had always had a sharp tongue, and even as leashed as she held it this morning, some of the voice's wilder claims began to make more sense.

One threat was enough to snap her mouth shut so hard her teeth clicked. And it was also enough to gather every scrap of courage and conviction (and stupidity?) that Byron had as he strode up to Khuuld and called him down for his threat.

Khuuld and Byron had always rubbed sparks off each other. From the very first day they had stepped on each other's feet, challenged each other's authority and expertise, and been only slightly civil about it. Any sign of that was gone now as they quickly degenerated into a shouting match.

Khuuld's temper snapped and he sought to teach Byron a lesson for good at the voices's cheering suggestion and pulling a number from his head, sent 50 ravens flying at Byron.

Tylette screamed a warning as Frederick felt his faith tested at its basest level. Byron nocked and let fly, dropping a raven per shot but within seconds they were upon him. Diving in, clawing and tearing in a frenzy of gory activity. Byron spasmed and convulsed attacked at every angle from every direction and collapsed in a bloody heap before Khuuld could make out what was happening and frantically call off the ravens. The voice cackled away in his head, "You're mine you're mine you're mine you're mine you're mine you're mine..."

Frederick had gripped his mace hard enough to compress the wooden haft and strode towards Byron looking at Khuuld. Inwardly Khuuld felt a little guilty and shocked at what he had done, but reminders of what Byron had done to him from the voice swiftly and ruthlessly quashed any regret. Outwardly, Khuuld appeared utterly cold as he motioned for Frederick to do as he would.

Frederick layed his hands upon the balled up twitching Byron who was well past feeling and on his way to greet Death. Equitus's holy power bathed over him and washed some of the wounds away as a shaky breath was sucked in by Byron. Collin and Tylette both stood in mute terror at the trauma of the sight.

One can only imagine what Byron felt.

His body mended, Byron stood up once more and faced Khuuld. He told Khuuld in no uncertain terms that he was leaving. Khuuld laughed and said he could go anytime he wanted, seeming to infer that the ravens would not hinder him. Indeed, a swath opened in the ravens to the south at Khuuld's silent mental command. Except, within it were still three ravens--each with red eyes. Khuuld again commanded them to step aside and let Byron leave, but they did not budge.

Frederick tersely told Byron what was happening and Byron nodded, wrapping himself in his tattered cloak before racing through the gap. The three ravens and six more from within the pack alighted and chased after him, harrying him beyond the group's vision.

Unsure of how to proceed, Khuuld assured the rest he had no intention of doing anything to harm them, and indeed that he would protect them. When Frederick brought up Byron, Khuuld said it was less than he deserved.

((In some of the story I have had to skip over in trying to catch up, Byron had twice lost his temper and put an arrow in Khuuld. Both times, Khuuld was weak enough at the time that the arrow would have killed him without Frederick's quick intervention. After almost singlehandedly saving the group from a night attack of driven wolves, Khuuld had the strong opinion that if anything his actions only made him and Byron even.))

Setting out was difficult but it seemed the only thing they could do.

 

[Darklone]

Hmmm

How many ravens would you need to kill a dragon (BADD alert!)?

Nice. I really like it. Go on

 

[Jairami]

As they drew nearer to Ardonia, Collin endeavored to come up with as soft a way to explain events to Baron Ardon as possible. He still maintained that they had acted in Sara's best interest at the time and that it was the only thing they could have done with the knowledge they had. Vehemently maintained. Tylette's sharp tongue was still somewhat leashed and said not a word to Khuuld, but it still had some lash for Collin's conscience.

Unfortunately, Collin's true but carefully worded account of events would be for naught as Byron arrived in town first and gave a bitter account of events from his perspective. A lot of the blame was shifted to Khuuld through shaded inference, but the result was the same. Byron tried to offer hopes of vengeance to the Baron, but holding his weeping wife in his arms he could find no hatred for the group. Nothing but sorrow held sway in his heart. Nodding his understanding, Byron left to wander and sharpen his skills, and someday bring vengeance upon Khuuld.

When Collin, Frederick, Khuuld, and Tylette walked back into the village, they were met by a red-eyed Baron. He had little anger left for them in his sorrow and he told them that he could not stand to see them. Before news of what had happened had reached him, he had set into motion the rebuilding of the bridge that once connected Ardonia to the outside world. He had thought that their isolation must end with the re-emergence of the goblins in the surrounding lands. While not complete, they were ordered to cross that bridge and never return.

Apologies and explanations were attempted and waved off. "You did what you thought you had to. It changes nothing, begone with you before my sorrow burns my blood for vengeance."

Tylette and Frederick both made hasty goodbyes, packing up what little they owned while Collin and Khuuld tried to figure out where to go. Ardonia had been cut off so long from the outside world that they really did have little or no idea what lay beyond their small part of it. Tracking down knowledge that the old bridge once was a part of a trade route to a port city far to the west, they waited outside of town for Tylette and Frederick.

Weary physically and exhausted emotionally, they set forth to the northeast leaving their home.

 

[Jairami]

Construction of a bridge out of Ardonia is something that hasn't been considered in well on a hundred years, and had lit more than a few minds up with the idea of travel and adventure. One such bright and enthusiastic mind was a young lad from one of the farmsteads around Ardonia. 3 years ago he had discovered a strange wood covered book with string bindings written in language he could not begin to decipher. But all through out it were diagrams and sequential pictures of sketchy representations of people performing all manner of combat maneuvers. With nothing but pictures to go by, it was more a hobby than anything else for young Andrew, but it was an escape from the drudgery of farm life. Strong legs and shoulders from days of plough work and great stamina as well led him to be quite a capable student of the images.

He particularly liked the stylized tiger woodcut near the back.

When news of a bridge reached his farm, he only held out a single night before his adventurous spirit would let him hold still no longer. He told his father that he had to see the world and experience it for himself and set off with visions of grand quests in his mind.

What he found were four out of sorts people of an age with him, waiting on enough of the support structure of the bridge to be completed to cross just on it. Full of enthusiasm and zest for life, he put upon them to let him join them in whatever quest they had found. No attempt at discouragement or outright refusal was accepted.

Khuuld muttered that he'd probably turn back within a week and Collin eventually was glad for anything that could lift the mood that was heavy upon the group. Slowly, Collin's curiosity and thirst for knowledge was overcoming the events that had unpended his life.

Collin, Tylette, and Andrew would banter back and forth at length and laughter was reintroduced to the taught group as Frederick would march along, head hanging low wondering how this could be set before him and what he could possibly do. Khuuld had his own problems to contend with. His temper was getting shorter, especially around the seemingly implacable Andrew with his always on smile and slightly naive if not downright dense perception of things. The voice in his head spoke more and more often in that chanting spidery language, and his mastery of the wild was less complete in lands he didn't know, which was sure to be the rest of their journeys.

After working their way across the bridge they set out without even a map or an idea of what they were looking for, following the coast line west with the idea that if it was a port city, it surely had to be along the sea. Andrew's adventurous spirit got it's first tarnish as he discovered that adventuring often consists of putting one foot in front of the other all day every day for weeks on end.

A few interesting engagements in a bandit ogre's lands paying off his goblin cronies, and escaping on summoned horseback were about the only diversion from the monotony.

Quite a long journey later they found themselves entering the low wooden walls (perhaps fence would be a better word) of Jigond. Jigond had apparently been something long ago as it sported cobblestone avenues flanked by decorative trees and a diverted channel of sea water that ran through town. It was actually a couple miles or so off the coast though there was a series of piers and wharfs that formed the docks out into a protected inlet of the sea south of town. A single ship was in port, a dual-masted sailing ship sat peacefully with little or no activity on it.

Jigond itself was fairly quiet, with the few people who were out and about looking around skittishly, going about their business with swift economy of movement. It didn't take long to discover why. Standing at a corner of the town green or walking in clumps of 5 or 6 were rough men with no manners and too much drink.

Business was taken care of in town and inquiries were made as to maps and incoming vessles when the party suffered an injury that has yet to completely heal.

Tylette was wandering town about her own business when her ways attracted interest and a horrible chain of events unfolded. ((I will not detail what led to this or what happened for the sake of Eric's grandmother.))

Khuuld was drawn by sounds of a scuffle and was enraged by what he saw. One of the men lost an arm and bled to death on the cobblestones before they had all managed to scatter. Sheathing his sword Khuuld collected Tylette and took her to the rest of the party at the inn where Frederick and the herb-dealing healer of the town were called for.

Frederick in a rage stormed out before truly thinking matters through and found the first group of ruffians he could. Confronting the six of them in icy tones he told them that they had best leave town as he and his friends were about to return the law to it. He was answered by bullying and an ale being poured on him.

Choking down an urge to slay them all where they stood he warned them again and headed back to the inn to prepare. Much righteous vengeance was planned that day.