Norannar - Mor'Gan's Tale

[Tumakhunter]

I am Varnus, son of Dalzak, Lightbringer, Deathtaker, and the youngest of the Varnus.

I have awakened in a strange new world, one that has never known the ravages of wars like I have. Yet now they find it upon their very doorsteps, waiting.
**********************************

I remember as a child, sitting on my father's knee, being told of when the Great War came to our People. Father told me of how our people lived in independant cities throughout the World, barely even realizing that there was a World Outside, above all of our great tunnels and caves. Any stories told of those who might brave such a place also told how they were swallowed by the Great Nothing that was above the final layer of Rock. None ever returned, so none ever left.

Then one day something entered our tunnels from that horrible Above. Great swarms of Urukz, or Ravagers, entered our tunnels, slaughtering whole cities. Before this, there were no other beings, only the People, and the various animals and beasts that lived in the World below. Whole armies of "Not-People" were something we could not even concieve of, let alone stand against. Thus these Urukz took numerous of our highest cities, only the deepest ones remaining untouched - yet. As our lands flooded with refugees from the high cities, our People cried for vengeance upon these Raiders from the Great Nothing. Armies were built, for the first time combining People from different lands and cities. And to lead these Great Armies were chosen Twelve Great Warlords. Dalzak, my father, was the youngest chosen, and proved to be the greatest of them.

The wars raged for many years, as our people first retook our homes in the tunnels, then mounted stronger defenses against any further attacks from above. Time passed and we began to feel we were safe. Some cried out that we would never be safe so long as we did not know our enemy. So we sent brave scouts out into the World Above, wearing the hides of our Enemies to disguise them from the Eye Above, in case the Gods of the Above would look disfavourably on our troops sent to slay Their peoples. What those scouts discovered was both far more beautiful and ultimately more horrifying than anything our People have ever experienced.

First, the Urukz were not the only beings Out There. There were others, and they, too, fought with the Urukz. The level of destruction wrought by the Urukz and their allies was on a scale unimagined, and it was all done in the name of some great godlike beings. The sides opposed each other seemingly at random, allying or betraying at a whim from their Masters.

Who should we fight? We could not fight all and hope to win anything but our own destruction. We could not hope to hide forever, either, as it had already been proven that we, too, were vulnerable to any who would venture into our lands with enough force.

At first we tried not to choose sides, to merely protect our own. Again, we lost many cities to raiders. Then we were approached by one of these Shapers, one calling Himself 'the Smith.' This one offered an alliance against all comers, a mutual defence pact. He(?) needed an army, and we needed the raw power that could be provided by one of the Shapers. An agreement was struck, and the People allied with the Forger.

Each Warlord sent his second son to be trained there in the ways of warfare and of the sword. Our names were taken from us, save for the names of our fathers. We would henceforth be known only as the Varnus, or 'Loyal Swords' of our fathers. I am Varnus Dalzak, Loyal Sword of Dalzak, my father. We were to be the elite, the best warriors ever produced by either our people or by the Citadel of the Forger. Our purpose was one of death to our enemies, and we were given the power and training to do exactly that.

Our enemies were many, from the Urukz to the Mekkanni, we fought the Gob-Lin, and the Fomor. We even fought those already slain. Each Varnus took a specialty enemy, one whom we trained the most diligently to destroy. We became commanders of the armies of our fathers to best destroy our foes, and whole armies of Urukkillers or Deadhunters clashed with the armies of the Shapers.

But the Forger had mercy on some of the beings. Into the Citadel were admitted refugees of the Mekkanni and Chim peoples. At first, we were against this, but as the plight of these people became apparent, as we realized that they, too, were innocent of the War that raged around them, we accepted their presence, and sheltered them, both in the Citadel and in the Underhomes.

The day came when, after decades of warring, everything ended. Darban had been defeated in a cataclysmic battle that destroyed completely his land of Moralange, and that slew the great Titan-Dragon. For a time, his people were hunted, and the Urukz soon were no more. Others, too, were destroyed in the Afterwars, but soon after the last of the Urukz were dead, the Great Forger told us that the Varnus were no longer needed in this place, but would be required again someday. We were brought together into a chamber in what remained of the Titan-Dragon's body, and placed into a slumber that would consume us until we were once again needed by our People.

We said our goodbyes to our fathers and to each other, and slept.
***************************

When I awakened, I found myself alone in the chamber. Looking about, I could see in the quartz coffins that the others were dead. No. Not all dead, rotted to dust, with nothing but armour and weapons to mark who had ever lain there. Some few were missing entirely. I looked around to see who could be missing.

Was Varnus Giljak, Urukslayer, among those gone? No. I could see his armour glinting in the faint light of the room, the proud amethyst of the Giljak crest purple in the increasing light. Taking his Gednyr, his great axe, in honour of his memory, I walked out through the opening in the wall, out into the daylight of a world I no longer knew.

 

[Tumakhunter]

About Norannar

Norannar is a world of Steam and Sorcery, one with a wild southern frontier only recently being explored as the great Magical Storms that cut through the Gulf of Sorrows have begun to diminish. These storms are the result of a great War for Ascension waged five thousand years ago, between the Gods and powerful Wizards, called Shapers, who would become gods themselves. These Shapers often created monsters, or even whole races, to fight for them, rather than directly confront one another or the gods. Varnus Dalzak is from that time.

In modern times, the dwarven people - calling themselves Duergar, or People of the Stone - have come to take a major political role in the shaping of civilization, as mankind and others recoiled from using any magic whatsoever for the next two to three thousand years. It was only with the Elves' help that magic once again became somewhat acceptable. In the meantime, technological development was well on it's way to becoming the sister of what crude magics would work. Now, of course, magic is as strong as one would expect in any other realm, but the development of it (re)grew alongside the technology, the two complimenting each other as they formed.

The main races to be found in civilized Norannar are the duergar, the humans, the elves, and the amani - a small gypsy race of people combining features of Halflings, Gnomes, and just a little bit of Kender. Then there are the Halflings - a slang term for those of mixed ancestry. The most common are the Silvaan, or half-elf/half-human, and the Duermek, or half-duer/half-human.

Now back to the story...

 

[Tumakhunter]

A brave new World

I have no idea how long I walked - perhaps for days - before I collapsed from exhaustion and grief in the clearing in the wood. I awoke to the sound of voices above me, and, coming to my feet, challenged them, before noticing one of the People among them. These individuals were an unusual assortment of beings: besides the Person, there was a Mekkanni, several half-breeds (one was half-mek, half People!), and as their prisoner one of the hated Urukz, whom they called Tumak. I briefly duelled one of the halflings to prove my strength, but when more was demanded, I refused. The duermek, called Mor'Gan, agreed to allow me to travel with them to Morrakin, where they also were headed.

It seems that Mor'Gan, too, was trained in the Citadel of the Forger, and that he seemed to lead these people on their quest. They had only recently found these Urukz-who-were-not-Urukz, and wished to warn their lands of the danger presented by them. Unfortunately, even their Nautrek wass so heavily accented that I could not tell them of the Urukz, and they spoke most often in a language that I could not understand at all.

I must note that the weapons of this era are amazing! The members of this group all seem to weild wands or staves with the limited ability to, amidst a lot of smoke and thunder, hurl small pellets of lead with deadly force. Mor'Gan, in particular, seems expert in this form of weapon.

My companions now are:

Mor'Gan, the duermek gunfighter, and holy warrior of the Forger (called Sentinel).

Feldon, a silver-haired Silvaan (whatever that is) forester.

Tarion, a druid of elven(?) and chim (called amani?) blood.

Victor a mekkanni (hu-man?) versed in the ways of science, particularly the sciences of life. He seems to wish to follow a little too closely the path of the Shapers, in my mind.

And lastly Balin, called Stonebinder. A member of the People, and caster of magics. I was previously unaware that our People could do such a thing, but he claims it to be common enough. I worry for his soul, for such things have been known to corrupt the servants of Shapers in the past.

 

[Tumakhunter]

Tolk

For several days we followed the trail headed northeast out of the mountains. The mek, Victor, seemed to enjoy complaining the whole way, disliking the size that the group had grown to. As I understand things, he had thought he was in charge of their 'expedition.'

It was in the midst of all of his complaints that a terrible crashing sound was heard in the woods to our left. Our chim companions darted into the trees to investigate, while the others continued their trek. Curious, I followed into the woods to see what could be causing such a ruckus. There, thrashing around in a crazed state, was a huge duer-like being. Its mighty club swung around as it tried to fight off some unseen assailant, and smashed through the surrounding trees. I stepped forward into the clearing it had created, but it ignored me. Then I noticed the taint of the undead in the air around the creature.

Taking the Gednyr from my back, I stepped closer to the creature and tried to see more clearly where the taint was coming from, when I was hit suddenly by the great club that was swinging around. I reacted, Gednyr biting deeply into the thing's flesh, and the chim in the trees loosed arrows and darts at it. Eventually it fell, and I turned to see the rest of my new companions looking on in horror.

Balin in particular was disgusted at my behaviour, and we argued for some time about it. He thought it some poor, innocent creature, and could not see the underlying taint. I argued that I was doing it a mercy and putting it out of it's misery, while I shook blessed rocksalt over it's corpse to prevent it from rising again.

Later that evening we were still bickering over the incident when another mek, this one quite young, stumbled into our camp, led by Tarion. He was tired and hungry, though he tried to present himself with pride. He seemed to wish to stay with us for awhile, as he travelled. Mor'Gan told me he was a student and hunter of things undead, and was called Howard.

The boy sat and talked in that strange, singing language these people all seem to speak, and after a while, Tarion brought something from his pouch. It appeared to be a golden medallion, one heavily coated in amber, though I could still faintly feel the taint of undeath from it. Howard reacted quite violently at the sight of it, and seemed to demand the destruction of the thing. Tarion responded, and placed it back in his pouch. The debate ran for some time after, but I went to sleep.

I awoke some hours later to shouting from the silver-haired one. I could feel the aura of undeath in the camp, and grabbed my Deknus as I rose. There, before us, was a great creature of shadow, walking into the camp. The wraith went first for one of the chim, and as it slew him, Mor'Gan and Feldon opened fire upon it with their gun-wands. It shrugged off their attacks, as I suspected it would, but then I heard Mor'Gan try to call upon the power of the Forger to dispell it. The only result was it moving to him as it's next target.

As it turned, I heard a thunderous boom from Howard's hand. He, too, had a gun, it would seem! And it's shot seemed to hurt the wraith! Uttering a quick prayer to bless my Deknus, I charged across the clearing to attack the foul creature. Howard loosed several more shots at it, and between us, we managed to destroy it, but not before it slew two of the chim.

Carefully blessing their bodies, I took the remaining watch, letting the others get whatever sleep they could. In the morning, Howard and Balin were gone.

We packed up our camp, and travelled fairly uneventfully for another five days, before finally coming upon a great road that travelled in a north-south direction. The road looked quite new, and Mor'Gan seemed quite nervous about it, so we went north, following alongside it in the woodland. Within a few short hours, we reached a great bridge that crossed a mighty river and into the stockade that Mor'Gan tells me had been a razed town known as Tolk only weeks before.

 

[Tumakhunter]

THe Siege of Tolk

We made camp in the woods that night, in order to plan what we should do next. The bridge was the only way across the water, and we needed to get across. It was at this time that our prisoner, Tumak (which I'm told is not a personal name, but what the race call themselves), decided to try and flee. He did not make it more than 50 feet before being felled by the arrows of our chim companions, who shot a very smug look back at Mor'Gan when the deed was done.

After burying the body where it would not be found (I assume that's what they did), the chim returned to the camp, and began discussions with Tarion, Feldon, and Mor'Gan in their language of forest noises. Victor and I both watched uncomprehendingly, until Mor'Gan turned and told us that the chim warriors would be continuing with us to warn the northern peoples of the coming incursion. Victor was not pleased, but no one paid him any heed.

The next morning, Feldon and Tarion decided to scout around the area. There was an old duer miner nearby, and they wanted to find him to see if he was alright. They did indeed find him, but he was extremely hostile and cantankerous, not at all as they had described him before. It was decided that I would talk to him, given my race and status.

Feldon led me to the mine where the old duer was staying, then faded back into the foliage. I walked out and greeted the old duer, staying as polite as I could. He was suspicious at first, but my armour and heritage very quickly put him at his ease. We talked for awhile, and he told me that he was protecting the local homesteaders and their families, who even now are hiding inside his mines. I invoked the blessings of the Forger upon them, and told him we would bother them no more, and would erase our trail so that they would not be found by anyone tracking us.

During this time, our three remaining chim companions had been sent inside the stockade on a scouting mission. How they crossed that mile-wide clearing without being seen by the guards, or got over the bridge, I'll never know, but they managed.

Shortly after I returned to our camp, a great trumpeting sound came from the road to the south. We all went to look, and what we saw sent a shiver down my spine. Twelve Tumak riders, dressed quite finely, and armed with swords and guns, rode proudly down the road toward the bridge, banners flying from spears they held aloft. They were obviously marching for show, to impress any observers from the fort, and moments later we could see why.

A great carriage drove up the road, gilded and decorated as though to indicate someone of great importance were within. Another six riders surrounded it, and in the distance behind, we could see trace of another large group of riders following. The guard at the bridge snapped to attention as this contingent approached, and they all crossed the bridge and into the now-open stockade.

When they had all passed by, we slipped as quietly as we could back to our camp, there to make plans.

First, we needed the report from the chim, so we had to wait until they returned, which wasn't until the early morning. According to Mor'Gan, my only real translator, they looked for signs of great industry, and were quite surprised by the arrival of the carriage. As I surmised, it was someone of great import, a priest-general, from what I could understand of the multiple translation. The chim had not found any sign of what they had been asked to seek (something about trains?), so returned to us as swiftly as it was safe.

We decided we would have to try to sneak past Tolk later that night. Fortunately, the moon was only at half the last few days, and it would not be too bright, but nevertheless, I was forced to concede to removing my armour ang carrying it, as it would be both noisy and might catch the light. Mor'Gan loaned me a spare outfit of his, and I changed away from the others. I cut myself a new veil from the excess pantlegs, as my holy vows as a Varnus prevent me from showing my face to any but my direst enemies or my closest friends - my face is the only thing truly mine, after all. All else belongs to my people.

We wrapped my sacred armour up in a great sack Feldon had, and devised a means for me to tie it onto my back. My weapons, all except for the Gednyr of my dear Giljak, were tied into the sack as well, and then we waited.

When evening fell, the chim slipped out ahead of us, and, using their blowguns, knocked the bridge guards out. One by one, we slipped over the bridge and up to the stockade wall. Everything was going well so far, and once we had everyone across, we slowly made our way along the wall to circle the town. Just past the guardtower at the corner, something shifted noisily in the sack on my back. The sky lit up with some kind of searchlight from the top of the wall as everyone began a mad dash for the forest beyond. But it was a good mile away, and the guards began shooting at us as we crossed the clearing.

Mor'Gan decided to create a distraction, and ran back to the wall, digging some small, foot-long sticks out of his coat and putting strings on the ends. I didn't understand, but turned with him and followed him to the wall, where he began to place the sticks along the bottom of the logs in bundles of five, igniting the strings as he went. Feldon had turned and was returning fire with his rifle, when a great fog rose up around him.

I was uncertain what I should be doing, but suddenly a huge explosion tore out of the first bundle of sticks, creating a large hole in the wall. Another quickly followed, and another, as troops began to pour out of the first hole. I ran towards them with the Urukslayer's Gednyr, screaming his ancient battlecry. Cursing, Mor'Gan followed, drawing his pistols as he ran.

A few rounds were fired, and I had felled a few enemies as well, when Tarion's owl flew by and dropped something at Mor'Gan's feet. Picking it up, he ate it, and I saw his skin take on a barklike texture. This gladdened me, as he had already been shot several times, and, while not sorely wounded yet, was beginning to slow.

As more enemies poured through the gap, Feldon shouted to us, and Mor'Gan grunted "Go. Now!" Turning, he ran back to the rest, as I held the flank as best I could until he was clear. Feldon gave me covering fire while I retreated, and soon we were in the woods, safe. Quickly, we arranged to seperate and meet several miles north, so that a coordinated attempt to track us wouldn't catch us all.

 

[Enkhidu]

Welcome to the forum!

You have an unorthodox and interesting style - and though I don't usually go for 1st person stories, yours has piqued my interest. I very much like your use of the character's vernacular.

Keep it up!

 

[megamania]

Neat. The history layout you provided in the beginning shows a lot of thought and effort. With that much foresight, I'm sure this will be good.

Curious- is this a straight forward story you're telling, a campaign you are / were doing or something else? In my Darksun Storyhour I am the sole player but I roll out encounters, combat and tell it as it happens (didn't plan on Mania being a possible drowning victum...go figure).

Keep it up.

 

[Tumakhunter]

This is actually an ongoing campaign that I DM. Unfortunately, the character Varnus, who is an NPC that joined the group, came in quite late in the story, but he's the only one whose perspective I feel qualified to write from. A lot of the earlier story will, I'm sure, be related a little later. Perhaps as a flashback? Hmm.

 

[Tumakhunter]

North - with a surprise

I ran through the woods for some time, heading in a generally northerly direction. I could hear the sound of the Tumak and their hounds searching for us, but it seemed as though they had been confounded. Perhaps Tarion had cast some spell to hide our trail?

It was some hours before I emerged from the woods. There, waiting, were Feldon, Tarion, Mor'Gan, and two of our three chim companions (whose names I still have not learned). There was no sign of Victor, and we had no more time to wait. One of the chim told us that Victor would be protected by his tribesman, which seemed to put the others' minds at ease.

We followed the steel rails that were laid out upon the ground for some miles before we found the dead husk of a train pointing north. It looked like a great caravan of steel wagons all linked together. I asked what type of animals would pull such a monstrosity, and Feldon pointed out the front wagon. Mor'Gan told me that this was the "engine," and that this was what pulled the great train along the steel rails on the ground. (Feldon had some fear that the Tumak in Tolk may have developed a way to run them along open ground, but there had not been any evidence to support this.)

But there was some concern. This was the train that had brought them to Tolk. Obviously the Tumak had found it before it could go back and warn the northern countries of the invasion. There were a few bodies, both duer and mek, strewn amongst the wreckage. Mor'Gan and I took the time to lay the bodies properly to rest before continuing.

Then the thought came to us - if the trains could come south, they could go north. The effect that trainloads of Tumak soldiers would have on an unprepared north would be devastating! So we set out to destroy or block the lines.

First, a landslide was created across the tracks. Then, on the other side of the slide, we destroyed the rails for a distance of some hundred feet. Realizing that trains from the north would be unaware of the damage to the track until the last minute, we created another landslide on the other side of the damaged rails.

Then we went west, towards the other rail line.

There was a farmhouse nearby, and as we approached it, a shot rang out from within it's walls. "Thet was just a warning! Don't come any closer, or I'll nail ya fer sure," came a familiar voice in my native Nautrek.

"Balin, you sawed off piece of sewer waste! Stop shooting at us," Mor'Gan replied in the same language.

"Mor'Gan? That you ya ugly half-breed? Durn, but it's good to see ya agin! And there's Feldon and Tarion, too! Where's Victor, though," Balin asked as he stepped out from the old building.

"We lost Victor in the woods to outside of Tolk. Unfortunately, we were not able to search for him, as we were being hunted by the Tumak soldiers ourselves," I replied. Balin gave me a sour look, and turned to Mor'Gan, speaking in the singsong tongue the rest of the party was using. Tarion was kind enough to translate, but I will not relate the unkind words spoken. Mor'Gan rebuked him, defending my honour, not realizing I was being made to understand the conversation.

"Our small companions assure us he is being well watched after," Mor'Gan told him, translated by Tarion. "I have every confidence that he will be able to rejoin us soon. And if not..."

"Yeh, he was a loudmouth, but I always kinda liked the freak. Hope he catches up soon. What's yer plan now, duermek ? Still trying to hunt them blasted Tumak, or have ya come to yer senses and're followin' me back ta civilization?"

"Oh, we're going north, Stubby, but not for the reason you might think. We need to warn them about what's happening. You in?"

"Eh, we'll see. I'll go with ya for a bit longer, see what happens."

The conversation continued thusly, with everyone generally deciding that the next day would be a fine time to begin following the rails to Remere. We slept in the farmhouse, and set out in the morning.

 

[GreyShadow]

Very interesting.

Did you make up the mechanics for the steamtech / guns, or is it from some suppliment?

Keep it up.