Men'Thar-The Lost Patriarch

[deadestdai]

Ever impressed by the sights of Skyrium, Skarsus barely realised he had at once obeyed the robe'd man's request, untying Palientha's reigns and walking her in after the angry looking sea elf and the shady elf-man.

 

[taitzu52]

Thromgril dreamt. At first, like many of his dreams, he was with his father in the mines, happily working. It as just after lunch, and the smell of the meat pies that she had brought them still clung to his beard. As he and his father worked in tandem to break a large rock, his father stopped suddenly and looked down the shaft. Thromgril heard a rumbling, like the sound of rushing water, and the air became dank. In an instant, a flood of red burst forth from the mine, hitting his father and sending him barreling down the shaft, screaming Thromgril's name. Then, young Thromgril was up to his mouth in gore. Blood filled the cavern, carrying him away. All before his eyes was crimson.

Then, his ears were filled with the sounds of battle. Voices cried, some he knew, some were the foul tongues of orc. The noise of metal crashing into metal, and the gurgling of the death rattle rang in his ears. He could feel a burning in his chest, he was panting, sweating, pushing his body to the limit. His vision cleared and he was holding a mighty axe in either hand, cleaving it into whoever stood before him. He alone stood in battle, upon a mountain of bodies he was raised. He brought his axe down upon the Great Uruk, splitting him asunder, and he fell into a silent heap.

The field was empty, only Thromgril stood, gasping for breath, covered in gristle and blood. He looked at his feet and then up towards the horizon. Bodies were everywhere. As far as the eye could see was death. Dwarves, men, elves, orcs, and other even more fell beasts. Alas it all came rushing back to him in the wake of his blind fury: he had killed them all. Friend and foe, orc and clansmen, he saw all of their faces as he struck them down. Their doom was Thromgril.
He drew up all the air into his lungs that the stench of the battlefield would allow him to draw, ready to let out a scream of anguish, and then......

Along the way if the dwarf is asleep, he prods him with his foot to awaken him.

Thromgril gently sits up, the greataxe that doubles as his pillow on the ground at his side. He blinks his eyes and squints as he looks around. Seeing the young half elf looking down at him he says, "Well, it's about time someone showed up. It was a long walk for me, you know. Who's he?" Thromgril points at the man in with the red cross. "Well it's obvious I missed something. Are we following him?" Thromgril gets up, heaves his axe over his shoulder, and follows the strange party. Absentmindedly, he tosses away the turkey leg , not noticing the red marks in his palm that had bitten into his flesh in his sleep as he held it, remembering nothing of his dream.

 

[ferretguy]

Nodding towards the wizard who is quickly moving across the bridge Ackalon smiles Aye 'tis about time...although who he is and what this is about seems still to be stated, didn't miss anything except for the horseman and smith showing up though.

 

[Ferrix]

Derrik whistles and his mules follow him, pulling the covered wagon through the gates. Smiling as he is probably passed by most of the summoned people, except perhaps the sea-elf, he thinks to himself that elf there sure has some issues with people, prolly not sure of himself is all. Approaching the other dwarf he offers a hearty clasp of a handshake, "greetings friend, it warms me heart to see kinfolk amongst these people. The name's Derrik Forgehammer, what do you call yerself?"

 

[taitzu52]

Approaching the other dwarf he offers a hearty clasp of a handshake, "greetings friend, it warms me heart to see kinfolk amongst these people. The name's Derrik Forgehammer, what do you call yerself?"

Thromgril fingers his beard with a slight hesitation, a look that could have been suspicion, or even shame, crosses his eyes. Then, as if it were nothing, he tosses his axe onto his left shoulder and grasps Derrik full in the forearm and says, "Well met, master of the Forge." With a strangely possessed look on his face, he replies, "I am Thromgril Ruukenschlager, last of my line. Indeed, I am a dangerous fellow to call kin.", knowing that Derrik would not recognize Ruukenschlager as a proper Dwarven clan name.
Not being one equipped for a protracted conversation, Thromgril then heaves his axe back over his right shoulder and proceeds to follow the strange bedfellows through the gate.

 

[DralonXitz]

About 4 minutes later, the 5 heroes enter the massive Citadel, and the Golden Gates close behind you. As you follow the mage, you pass massive 500 Foot Bookcases, rooms larger than entire cities, and hundreds of mages traversing the area. Golden Plaques in every language title the tome sections, everything from "Elemental Conjuration" to "Ancient Elvish Transmutation", each specific subject filled with tens of thousands of books dedicated solely to it. Through huge archways, massive statues, and suits of armor you pass, before finally coming to a stop, outside of a small door, with a plaque that reads, "Kaelfor Tallenhim". The mage pulls out a small key and opens the door, letting you inside.

Inside is a small room, much quieter and peaceful than any other seen yet. In the middle in a cherrywood desk, with a few scrolls and open books on it. Behind the desk is a large bookshelf, filled to the brim with all kinds of books, a few hundred in all. The mage sits down behind the desk and gestures to you all to sit down at the 5 perfectly arranged chairs near the entrance.

"Thank you all very much for coming all the way to Skyrium. I realize how unusual it may have been, having cloaked messengers coming to you and all, but we must all conduct business in our own ways, you know."

The mage shuffles in his chair a bit and pulls out a long pipe, filled with tobacco, and flicks his fingers, instantly igniting it. He takes a long drag on the pipe and blows it into the air, forming it into the shape of a moon as he slides an old book towards him, very dusty, and flips a few pages before coming to what he was looking for.

"But enough with formalities. We must attend to the business at hand. Are any of you familiar with the ancient kingdom of Amun, Realm of the Golden Dragonlords?"

 

[Vendetta]

Stepping forward more to gaze into the book, Zar-Vroxiar replies, "“Only what everyone knows; a nearly perfect kingdom conquered over a millennia ago by the Goblins of Skelandgrief, and a few tall tales of the Dragonknights of Amun. I've not studied much of the distant pasts of these lands above the sea." Unable to read the text from his vantage point, Zar then scans the room for any signs of items or books about "The Golden Dragonrealm." Absently, Zar's gray eyes turn back to the wizard. "What is it that we ought know?"

 

[DralonXitz]

The mage softly chuckles and looks up at the Sea-Elf, noticing his keen curiosity in the massive amount of Knowledge contained in this room alone. He looks down at the book and thinks to himself, "Naturally, the Elf is anxious to answer..."

"Very good my Sea-Elven friend, very good. Yes that is correct, over a millenia ago they were conquered by the Goblins. Since then, they have seeminly dissapered from the face of Men'Thar, the Amunians that is."

The mage leans back in his chair a little bit, as the sparkle in his eyes fade, giving birth to a more dark, serious tone.

"It has come to my attention that the current Chieftain of Skelandgrief has found something powerful, very powerful, something that alone could crumble the walls of Skyrium. An ancient device of Sea-Elven creation that I believe you know about Zar, for it was your direct ancestors who created it...

"The Sceptre of The Sea Dragon, the only thing with enough power to wake the fierce Dragon of Aquaria from it's 10,000 year slumber."

 

[Vendetta]

For a moment, Zar-Vroxiar is taken back and visibly shaken... but only for a moment. He instantly regains his composure. ((OOC: He will attempt to Bluff, though his bonus is +0, so it likely fails, which is why he is visibly shaken for a moment)) Zar looks to each face in the room from the corner of his eye before smirking as he looks back to the wizard.

"Naturally, you believe that I know something of the Scepter, which is why you have chosen me for this little 'meeting', yes?" Zar says as he steps toward the wizard. "Ten thousand years is an aweful long time... but not nearly long enough, given the circumstances. What is it that you want from me, wizard? To guide this troupe in a vain hope to recover the scepter?"

 

[DralonXitz]

The wizard looks down for a moment, puffing on his pipe as he looks up at the cocky Sea-Elf and replies, "Actually no, I had just heard you knew a little about Magic, and they needed a mage and all, I had planned on letting the Human lead, he's got a Horse and all."