Victor Stark trudged through the cobblestoned streets of Mortigny; his heavy boots splashed in the filthy slush and the sounds echoed off the almost-deserted buildings. Alongside him, Morrwen and Petricia moved quietly, almost gliding over the frozen surface of the slush, while a hooded figure marched ominously behind them.
The cold was bitter this winter. Victor thrust his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat to find his gloves. He turned to his elven companion and was about to ask her something when he felt a foreign object in his pocket. It was smooth, hard, and cool. He grabbed it and pulled it out, holding it up in the dim winter light.
It was a chess piece, carved from bright red stone. A pawn. A crimson pawn.
Of course.
He scowled and turned back to Morrwen, only to find that she was already holding an identical object in her palm, displaying it to him with a half-smile.
"Shadows of Ravenloft" IC
-
Crimson King
- Conspirator
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Tue Jan 06, 2009 1:21 am
- Location: Fairfax, VA
- Contact:
"Shadows of Ravenloft" IC
"Death is too short to put up with this."
-
Victor Stark
- Conspirator
- Posts: 13
- Joined: Mon Jun 04, 2007 11:52 am
- Location: Boynton Beach, FL
First Letter: Victor Stark
Tuesday, December 30, 760
Dear Laurie and Gennifer,
My greetings to you as always. I hope the Yule season brings you only good things in Mordentshire.
I had a recent encounter with some minor undead that proved rather frustrating for me. As you know, I am well-versed in knowledge regarding corporeal undead, and know that certain weapons are of more use against some creatures than others (i.e. blunt is preferred for skeletons, slashing for zombies, etc.). However, while such preparations are fairly simple for melee purposes (simply carry different weapons of the appropriate type, which I already do consistently), missile weapons are more limited for such purposes.
Case in point: while traveling recently with companions through a forested area, we were accosted by a large number of skeletons and zombies, and some other undead creatures. The majority were the aforementioned corporeal undead, which took some moments to approach our position. Naturally, I did not wish to waste precious moments waiting for them to close, and thus relied upon my repeating heavy crossbow to do some preliminary damage. Sadly, the pointed projectiles did virtually nothing to halt their advance due to the creatures' natural resistances to such weapons.
While I was more than able to inflict harm once we closed to melee, I realized that it would be wise to avoid such an event in the future, and so conspired with a comrade to design weapons to counter this immunity. Enclosed are designs for two new forms of ammunition, which may be adapted for use for either arrows or bolts. Consider this my late Yuletide Present!
1) Blunt-tipped arrows: Designed to do impact damage rather than piercing, these are ideal for use against skeletons, though I'd focus on the larger bones or the skull for maximum accuracy. Since both the front and back end need to be weighted to allow for steady flight, the range on this projectile is far less than usual (OOC note: 1/3 the usual range increment), but is better than the alternative when needed.
2) Crescent-bladed arrows: Since piercing zombie flesh has minimal effect, the most desirable weapons when fighting them are those that slice off large chunks of rotting flesh. To this end, my adventuring comrade, Morrwyn, came up with this idea. A thin, strong steel crescent blade is attached in place of a normal arrowhead, points facing backward. It is not as aerodynamic as a standard arrowhead, but has better range than the blunt arrows (OOC note: 1/2 the usual range increment) due to potential updraft effect upon the blade.
Enclosed with this missive are notes and diagrams for my design plans. I will attempt to create and test these missiles, and invite you to do the same. Please let me know how this works and send suggestions for improvements on the designs, as I am not a trained bowyer or weaponsmith by trade.
Your Friend in the Mists,
Victor Stark
Dear Laurie and Gennifer,
My greetings to you as always. I hope the Yule season brings you only good things in Mordentshire.
I had a recent encounter with some minor undead that proved rather frustrating for me. As you know, I am well-versed in knowledge regarding corporeal undead, and know that certain weapons are of more use against some creatures than others (i.e. blunt is preferred for skeletons, slashing for zombies, etc.). However, while such preparations are fairly simple for melee purposes (simply carry different weapons of the appropriate type, which I already do consistently), missile weapons are more limited for such purposes.
Case in point: while traveling recently with companions through a forested area, we were accosted by a large number of skeletons and zombies, and some other undead creatures. The majority were the aforementioned corporeal undead, which took some moments to approach our position. Naturally, I did not wish to waste precious moments waiting for them to close, and thus relied upon my repeating heavy crossbow to do some preliminary damage. Sadly, the pointed projectiles did virtually nothing to halt their advance due to the creatures' natural resistances to such weapons.
While I was more than able to inflict harm once we closed to melee, I realized that it would be wise to avoid such an event in the future, and so conspired with a comrade to design weapons to counter this immunity. Enclosed are designs for two new forms of ammunition, which may be adapted for use for either arrows or bolts. Consider this my late Yuletide Present!
1) Blunt-tipped arrows: Designed to do impact damage rather than piercing, these are ideal for use against skeletons, though I'd focus on the larger bones or the skull for maximum accuracy. Since both the front and back end need to be weighted to allow for steady flight, the range on this projectile is far less than usual (OOC note: 1/3 the usual range increment), but is better than the alternative when needed.
2) Crescent-bladed arrows: Since piercing zombie flesh has minimal effect, the most desirable weapons when fighting them are those that slice off large chunks of rotting flesh. To this end, my adventuring comrade, Morrwyn, came up with this idea. A thin, strong steel crescent blade is attached in place of a normal arrowhead, points facing backward. It is not as aerodynamic as a standard arrowhead, but has better range than the blunt arrows (OOC note: 1/2 the usual range increment) due to potential updraft effect upon the blade.
Enclosed with this missive are notes and diagrams for my design plans. I will attempt to create and test these missiles, and invite you to do the same. Please let me know how this works and send suggestions for improvements on the designs, as I am not a trained bowyer or weaponsmith by trade.
Your Friend in the Mists,
Victor Stark
Last edited by Victor Stark on Tue Jan 13, 2009 7:49 pm, edited 2 times in total.
- Andrew <:-(}
-
Victor Stark
- Conspirator
- Posts: 13
- Joined: Mon Jun 04, 2007 11:52 am
- Location: Boynton Beach, FL
Second Letter: Victor Stark
Thursday, January 1, 761
Dear Laurie and Gennifer,
As a new year dawns in the Land of Mists, bringing promise both benign and foul to all, I find myself reflecting upon a recent encounter and reconsidering the information that it imparted upon me.
You may recall my earlier letter detailing my meeting with the Crimson King of Charn, a strange lich-mage of that distant island domain. In the interest of departing his dread presence for the relative safety of the Core, I made arrangements in which I would agree to perform certain services of an informational sort, imparting detail on my journeys and adventures, specifically findings on matters unnatural. I have considered ending this arrangement and returning the materials that were conferred upon me as payment, but have yet to take that step, as part of the payment was information regarding that vampire-slaying weapon which I mentioned previously. I am not fond of considering exactly how the King would go about extracting such knowledge from my brain, and less fond of experiencing it firsthand.
All of this was brought back to the forefront of my consciousness by the discovery of an item amongst my possessions that had not been there previously: a chess piece, a red-hued pawn. A not-so-subtle reminder of the Crimson King's presumption regarding our "working relationship."
So be it. Let him consider me his pawn for now, if he wishes. Time will tell, and it will take far more than veiled threats and parlor tricks to make me any being's thrall.
In any event, the reason I write of this again is that the King spun a rather outlandish tale regarding the planes and the movements of the heavens. Details (as best I can recall) are in my attached notes, but the basics of it are noted below as summary.
The Crimson King showed me and my companions an orrery, which he claimed depicted the motions and workings of the planes of reality. I took this revelation with a grain of salt (rather, an entire salt lick), as such notions are normally the province of madmen and fools. While speculation regarding the existence of such "other planes" has long been posited by noted scholars, among them your Esteemed Uncle (may the Mists keep him safe and well wherever he may be), proof of such has been, to this date, sorely lacking. I admit that I am, myself, a novice in such studies, finding thus far little practical use for the study in my slaying of vampires and other undead.
While I politely took in this lesson, I considered it to be nothing more than a madman's rambling at the time. However, I have begun to review the King's capabilities (in preparation for potential future conflict), and now wonder if perhaps I dismissed his claims too soon.
For one thing, he is capable of limited communication with me through the Mists, via the magical tome and quill he bestowed upon me. What I write therein is somehow conveyed to his attention, and he can likewise send me missives of communication in return. My traveling companion, Morwynn, is well versed in the arcane arts, and claims that she can transmit communication and informational spells through such a conduit to the King as well, although I have yet to see this feat performed.
Our world, as you well know, has mysteries that are as thick and confusing as the Mists that surround and encompass our lands. From the meager arcane training I have thus far received, I realize that spell effects are usually limited to the domain in which one resides, or at the very least connecting, contiguous landmasses. The ability to communicate through or beyond the Mists is normally considered impossible by conventional mages and scholars. Knowing this, I must concede that, somehow, the Crimson King is able to break or circumvent these "natural laws" native to our lands.
The implications of such are both thought-provoking and frightening when considered in context.
Please review the enclosed notes regarding his ideas of the workings of the "planes of existence" and his notion that this arrangement is being changed by forces unknown. Feel free to share this information with other scholars capable of dissecting such esoterica. I fear I have already met my limits regarding this analysis, though I intend to devote more time and energy to this field of study from now on. My life may someday depend on it.
Your Friend in the Mists,
Victor Stark
Dear Laurie and Gennifer,
As a new year dawns in the Land of Mists, bringing promise both benign and foul to all, I find myself reflecting upon a recent encounter and reconsidering the information that it imparted upon me.
You may recall my earlier letter detailing my meeting with the Crimson King of Charn, a strange lich-mage of that distant island domain. In the interest of departing his dread presence for the relative safety of the Core, I made arrangements in which I would agree to perform certain services of an informational sort, imparting detail on my journeys and adventures, specifically findings on matters unnatural. I have considered ending this arrangement and returning the materials that were conferred upon me as payment, but have yet to take that step, as part of the payment was information regarding that vampire-slaying weapon which I mentioned previously. I am not fond of considering exactly how the King would go about extracting such knowledge from my brain, and less fond of experiencing it firsthand.
All of this was brought back to the forefront of my consciousness by the discovery of an item amongst my possessions that had not been there previously: a chess piece, a red-hued pawn. A not-so-subtle reminder of the Crimson King's presumption regarding our "working relationship."
So be it. Let him consider me his pawn for now, if he wishes. Time will tell, and it will take far more than veiled threats and parlor tricks to make me any being's thrall.
In any event, the reason I write of this again is that the King spun a rather outlandish tale regarding the planes and the movements of the heavens. Details (as best I can recall) are in my attached notes, but the basics of it are noted below as summary.
The Crimson King showed me and my companions an orrery, which he claimed depicted the motions and workings of the planes of reality. I took this revelation with a grain of salt (rather, an entire salt lick), as such notions are normally the province of madmen and fools. While speculation regarding the existence of such "other planes" has long been posited by noted scholars, among them your Esteemed Uncle (may the Mists keep him safe and well wherever he may be), proof of such has been, to this date, sorely lacking. I admit that I am, myself, a novice in such studies, finding thus far little practical use for the study in my slaying of vampires and other undead.
While I politely took in this lesson, I considered it to be nothing more than a madman's rambling at the time. However, I have begun to review the King's capabilities (in preparation for potential future conflict), and now wonder if perhaps I dismissed his claims too soon.
For one thing, he is capable of limited communication with me through the Mists, via the magical tome and quill he bestowed upon me. What I write therein is somehow conveyed to his attention, and he can likewise send me missives of communication in return. My traveling companion, Morwynn, is well versed in the arcane arts, and claims that she can transmit communication and informational spells through such a conduit to the King as well, although I have yet to see this feat performed.
Our world, as you well know, has mysteries that are as thick and confusing as the Mists that surround and encompass our lands. From the meager arcane training I have thus far received, I realize that spell effects are usually limited to the domain in which one resides, or at the very least connecting, contiguous landmasses. The ability to communicate through or beyond the Mists is normally considered impossible by conventional mages and scholars. Knowing this, I must concede that, somehow, the Crimson King is able to break or circumvent these "natural laws" native to our lands.
The implications of such are both thought-provoking and frightening when considered in context.
Please review the enclosed notes regarding his ideas of the workings of the "planes of existence" and his notion that this arrangement is being changed by forces unknown. Feel free to share this information with other scholars capable of dissecting such esoterica. I fear I have already met my limits regarding this analysis, though I intend to devote more time and energy to this field of study from now on. My life may someday depend on it.
Your Friend in the Mists,
Victor Stark
Last edited by Victor Stark on Sun Jan 25, 2009 12:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
- Andrew <:-(}
The man sighed. He'd lost the trail once more. He wasn't terribly surprised. These type of beasts were wily and resourceful. That didn't deter him. He'd been hunting them for nearly ten years.
Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't hear the conversation ahead. Stopping, he frowned. He'd heard a dialect of this language before. Thinking a moment, it came to him. Sithican? I've not met any elves before. What business have they here? Pietro approached the voices, but not with caution. No need to scare or firghten them away.
And so Pietro enterred the clearing he'd heard the two elves speaking and stopped. Before the two elves stood a man at 6"5 and 280 pounds. Long brown hair and deep blue piercing eyes. He is in his early twenties. His face and muscled arms are tattoed. He wears a cloak. Under that is a breast plate, tunic, pants and traveling boots. Strapped to his back are a massive great sword. He carries a short bow as well and a quiver.
Stopping, he eyes both elves. Satisfied, he speaks in Sithican "Pardon me for my intrusion. Haff you seen a volf or man pass here?"
Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't hear the conversation ahead. Stopping, he frowned. He'd heard a dialect of this language before. Thinking a moment, it came to him. Sithican? I've not met any elves before. What business have they here? Pietro approached the voices, but not with caution. No need to scare or firghten them away.
And so Pietro enterred the clearing he'd heard the two elves speaking and stopped. Before the two elves stood a man at 6"5 and 280 pounds. Long brown hair and deep blue piercing eyes. He is in his early twenties. His face and muscled arms are tattoed. He wears a cloak. Under that is a breast plate, tunic, pants and traveling boots. Strapped to his back are a massive great sword. He carries a short bow as well and a quiver.
Stopping, he eyes both elves. Satisfied, he speaks in Sithican "Pardon me for my intrusion. Haff you seen a volf or man pass here?"
Last edited by steveflam on Tue Jan 13, 2009 5:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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ImaiSiafanar
- Conspirator
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Wed Jan 07, 2009 3:34 pm
- Location: Once, the beauty of Sildëyuir...
The man stands, placing himself between the newcomer and Imai.
He frowns slightly, and appears to say something about not quite understanding what you are saying. The woman looks over his shoulder, shaking her head when he asks her, possibly, if she understood better.
She is certainly not dressed practically, the various thin layers of her red dress skirts skimming the ground, a smallish pack at her waist. The pack he has is not much bigger, but he like her shows no signs of armour or visible weaponry.
He frowns slightly, and appears to say something about not quite understanding what you are saying. The woman looks over his shoulder, shaking her head when he asks her, possibly, if she understood better.
She is certainly not dressed practically, the various thin layers of her red dress skirts skimming the ground, a smallish pack at her waist. The pack he has is not much bigger, but he like her shows no signs of armour or visible weaponry.
He wondered why the elves didn't completely understand him in Sithican. He did however keep his hands at his side, so as not to appear threatening in any way. This had never happened to him before.
Well, I may as well introduce myself to these elfs, ja.
Pointing to himself, he says "Pietro". Then waving both his hands all around he says "Kartakass", hoping they would perhaps understand that he meant they were in fact in Kartakass. "Velcome."
Well, I may as well introduce myself to these elfs, ja.
Pointing to himself, he says "Pietro". Then waving both his hands all around he says "Kartakass", hoping they would perhaps understand that he meant they were in fact in Kartakass. "Velcome."
Last edited by steveflam on Tue Jan 13, 2009 6:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
ImaiSiafanar
- Conspirator
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Wed Jan 07, 2009 3:34 pm
- Location: Once, the beauty of Sildëyuir...
"Your accent and dialect are unfamiliar to me." says the male, but to your ears, some of it sounds strange, almost like a foreigner speaking your native tongue perhaps, which is probably what you sound like to them.
"This place is Kartakass? I am Firion. This is the Lady Imai'Siafanar." now he seems to be trying to find the words most likely to be shared between the dialects and veering from his usual manner of speaking.
"This place is Kartakass? I am Firion. This is the Lady Imai'Siafanar." now he seems to be trying to find the words most likely to be shared between the dialects and veering from his usual manner of speaking.
"So you haven't seen a man or rather large volf pass by here? You sound surprised by the name Kartakass. Are you not from Sithicus? That's where I've been told most elves of these lands hail from. You speak the language, but not very well."
The big man takes a breath. He wasn't accustomed to speaking so much at one time. He usually let his actions speak for themselves. Perhaps these elves might be helpful in helping him find the wolfwere he was hunting.
Looking at the both of them, he asks "Haff you ever seen a lycanthrope before? That is what I am huntink right now." Pietro thinks to himself Why not be out wiss it. Zey eizer vill help me or sink I am krazzy.
Pietro had a really odd accent. He stressed some words in an odd way and spoke with a humorous accent.
The big man takes a breath. He wasn't accustomed to speaking so much at one time. He usually let his actions speak for themselves. Perhaps these elves might be helpful in helping him find the wolfwere he was hunting.
Looking at the both of them, he asks "Haff you ever seen a lycanthrope before? That is what I am huntink right now." Pietro thinks to himself Why not be out wiss it. Zey eizer vill help me or sink I am krazzy.
Pietro had a really odd accent. He stressed some words in an odd way and spoke with a humorous accent.
-
ImaiSiafanar
- Conspirator
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Wed Jan 07, 2009 3:34 pm
- Location: Once, the beauty of Sildëyuir...
"We have seen no-one else. Sithicus? We have no idea where we are, what plane, what realm, what dimension...other than it is not where we were intending to go, thanks to that damned tower. ImaiSiafanar is from the plane called Sildeyuir. Lycanthropes? I saw one briefly, a long time ago. Before I left Faerun."
Imai has remained silent throughout, either listening or lost in thought.
"Do not mind her. This is the first time she has been away from Sildeyuir and met with those not of her kind."
Imai has remained silent throughout, either listening or lost in thought.
"Do not mind her. This is the first time she has been away from Sildeyuir and met with those not of her kind."
Pietro looks at the femal elf. Smiling, he puts himself in her place. In fact, he was in her place in a manner of speaking. "Please, miss, I am as you are. I haf never met an elf before this day. So as I said earlier, ziss is the land of Kartakass. We are not far from the city of Harmonia. I am a man of the forest, a Barbarian. I have never visited any city as a matter of fact. I prefer the open spaces to beink amongst many people in one place."
Pietro moves before the two elves, and sits cross legged on the ground. "So, tell me of where you are from. I don't understand this talk of planes or dimensions. I have never heard of Faerun at all."
Pietro moves before the two elves, and sits cross legged on the ground. "So, tell me of where you are from. I don't understand this talk of planes or dimensions. I have never heard of Faerun at all."
-
Victor Stark
- Conspirator
- Posts: 13
- Joined: Mon Jun 04, 2007 11:52 am
- Location: Boynton Beach, FL
Third Letter: Victor Stark
Saturday, January 10, 761
Dear Laurie and Gennifer,
Greetings again. My journeys have, of late, taken me through the rat-infested lands of Richemulot. While on the way to a potential rescue mission, my companions and I stopped for the night at the Cathedral of the Maiden of Sorrows in Mortigny, a former church now converted into an inn. Morwynn, a willing pawn of the "Crimson King" and devotee of a strange goddess of death that I had never heard of (despite this, she is, I find, my most sensible and trustworthy companion, which gives you an idea of the poor company I find myself keeping of late) discovered there an old, largely decomposed tome detailing the former church functions of the establishment. In a bookmark note she found a laundry list of treasures said to be found in the hidden temple below the building (we discovered the heavily trapped secret passage to it, and wisely decided to wait until we had a stronger, more sensible party before braving it).
I find her estimation of the treasure to be a bit high (as in "too good to be true") but was myself far more intrigued by the fact that the tome, by all indications, PREDATES the first appearance of the domain Richemulot in the Core in the year of 694 B.C. It is as if the land, her people and culture, were cut out of whole cloth and created at that very moment.
The reason I mention this curiosity is that I have recently become aware of a strange "quirk" about the land of Richemulot. While many of the lands of the Core are known to originate from areas beyond it (Mist-led and placed in the Core for some unknown reason, by some unknown power), usually they come with their prior histories perfectly intact. This has resulted in some interesting neighbors, with primitive feudal societies sometimes sharing borders with those that can produce muskets, explosives, and advanced spyglasses.
However, the standard "rules" of our land do not seem to apply to Richemulot. There are no records, no artefacts...indeed, no MEMORIES per se of ANY events that occurred prior to the domain's appearance on the western Core! My preliminary investigations here have more or less confirmed this to be true.
Unfortunately, the pressing nature of my current business precludes a detailed study of this phenomenon right now, though I intend to return here and continue the investigation at my leisure. I hope to find those elderly Richemuloise that might remember the land's emergence on the Core to interview them for further information.
Needless to say, both book and note are remaining in my possession (or the joint possession of myself and Morwynn, which amounts to the same thing; she is more than willing to allow access to the items in question) and we will be examining them further in the days to come.
My current mission is taking me to the small village of Belgravia, after which I intend to return to Mortigny to follow up on the mysteries herein. I would be willing to make a future trip to your home in Mordentshire-on-the-Sea to share these artefacts with you for analysis and discussion, and also to see what improvements Laurie has made on my designs for specialized arrowheads.
That is all for now. By the time this missive reaches you, I hope to be finished with Belgravia and back in Mortigny. Either way, you know where I am going and where I will be found in the near future.
Your friend in the Mists,
Victor Stark
Dear Laurie and Gennifer,
Greetings again. My journeys have, of late, taken me through the rat-infested lands of Richemulot. While on the way to a potential rescue mission, my companions and I stopped for the night at the Cathedral of the Maiden of Sorrows in Mortigny, a former church now converted into an inn. Morwynn, a willing pawn of the "Crimson King" and devotee of a strange goddess of death that I had never heard of (despite this, she is, I find, my most sensible and trustworthy companion, which gives you an idea of the poor company I find myself keeping of late) discovered there an old, largely decomposed tome detailing the former church functions of the establishment. In a bookmark note she found a laundry list of treasures said to be found in the hidden temple below the building (we discovered the heavily trapped secret passage to it, and wisely decided to wait until we had a stronger, more sensible party before braving it).
I find her estimation of the treasure to be a bit high (as in "too good to be true") but was myself far more intrigued by the fact that the tome, by all indications, PREDATES the first appearance of the domain Richemulot in the Core in the year of 694 B.C. It is as if the land, her people and culture, were cut out of whole cloth and created at that very moment.
The reason I mention this curiosity is that I have recently become aware of a strange "quirk" about the land of Richemulot. While many of the lands of the Core are known to originate from areas beyond it (Mist-led and placed in the Core for some unknown reason, by some unknown power), usually they come with their prior histories perfectly intact. This has resulted in some interesting neighbors, with primitive feudal societies sometimes sharing borders with those that can produce muskets, explosives, and advanced spyglasses.
However, the standard "rules" of our land do not seem to apply to Richemulot. There are no records, no artefacts...indeed, no MEMORIES per se of ANY events that occurred prior to the domain's appearance on the western Core! My preliminary investigations here have more or less confirmed this to be true.
Unfortunately, the pressing nature of my current business precludes a detailed study of this phenomenon right now, though I intend to return here and continue the investigation at my leisure. I hope to find those elderly Richemuloise that might remember the land's emergence on the Core to interview them for further information.
Needless to say, both book and note are remaining in my possession (or the joint possession of myself and Morwynn, which amounts to the same thing; she is more than willing to allow access to the items in question) and we will be examining them further in the days to come.
My current mission is taking me to the small village of Belgravia, after which I intend to return to Mortigny to follow up on the mysteries herein. I would be willing to make a future trip to your home in Mordentshire-on-the-Sea to share these artefacts with you for analysis and discussion, and also to see what improvements Laurie has made on my designs for specialized arrowheads.
That is all for now. By the time this missive reaches you, I hope to be finished with Belgravia and back in Mortigny. Either way, you know where I am going and where I will be found in the near future.
Your friend in the Mists,
Victor Stark
Last edited by Victor Stark on Fri Jan 16, 2009 12:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
- Andrew <:-(}
-
ImaiSiafanar
- Conspirator
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Wed Jan 07, 2009 3:34 pm
- Location: Once, the beauty of Sildëyuir...
"Sildeyuir is Imai's home, not mine..well. More hers than it is mine. It would not surprise me if no-one here had heard of Sildeyuir. It's inhabitants are one of the most secretive kinds of elves..."
Imai speaks, softly.
"Although there is the land we stand on, there are myriads of other places. These are the planes. Planes of chaos, planes of blood, planes where eternal wars are fought..some of these planes, are connected to others, and some, usually, are not. Sildeyuir is connected to Faerun, specifically, to one of the elven homelands, Yuirwood. Sildeyuir was made by elven magic, a long time ago, and elves left Faerun to live there after war. But now...it is being invaded and destroyed. So now many of us must return to our ancient homeland. That is where we were going before we were....dragged off the path."
Imai speaks, softly.
"Although there is the land we stand on, there are myriads of other places. These are the planes. Planes of chaos, planes of blood, planes where eternal wars are fought..some of these planes, are connected to others, and some, usually, are not. Sildeyuir is connected to Faerun, specifically, to one of the elven homelands, Yuirwood. Sildeyuir was made by elven magic, a long time ago, and elves left Faerun to live there after war. But now...it is being invaded and destroyed. So now many of us must return to our ancient homeland. That is where we were going before we were....dragged off the path."
Pietro ponders the informtaion he is given by the elves. Nothing of this made any sense to him, but he didn't voice his opinion to them. HE didn't want to alienate them. So they are new to Kartakass. He'd show them around and perhaps they would aid him in hunting the accursed wolfwere's responsible for the fact that he was the last remaining member of his tribe.
"Listen, as you are foreign to Kartakass, I can show you arount. I know my way well around ze woods unt mountains. As you may have guessed by the mention of lycanthropes, I hunt them. Perhaps you could join me in the hunt of one I am currently tracking. They are wily, unt change shape often, ja."
His eyes go to the great sword strapped. "This ist Werwolf-Verderben*, my freund in hunthing these vermin, ja. It is very effective in decimating their population. One day I hope to exact my revenge on ze lady Wolfwere who led her pack against my tribe." Pietro punches his fist into the open palm of his other hand hard.
* = Werewolf Bane
"Listen, as you are foreign to Kartakass, I can show you arount. I know my way well around ze woods unt mountains. As you may have guessed by the mention of lycanthropes, I hunt them. Perhaps you could join me in the hunt of one I am currently tracking. They are wily, unt change shape often, ja."
His eyes go to the great sword strapped. "This ist Werwolf-Verderben*, my freund in hunthing these vermin, ja. It is very effective in decimating their population. One day I hope to exact my revenge on ze lady Wolfwere who led her pack against my tribe." Pietro punches his fist into the open palm of his other hand hard.
* = Werewolf Bane
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ImaiSiafanar
- Conspirator
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Wed Jan 07, 2009 3:34 pm
- Location: Once, the beauty of Sildëyuir...
Firion speaks.
"We will accept your offer, but I must make clear that her safety is my main priority - that and escorting her to the Yuirwood. While she is talented it is not really in talents that would do well in straight combat."
"Which is why you'll distract them for me, won't you sh'mai.*" she smiled. "If I've got two big strong men to make sure I don't get hurt, then everything will be fine."
Firion frowned. "If your parents found out, they'd kill me. If you don't first."
Imai put her hands on her hips and huffed at him poutily, making him smile slightly.
Sh'mai is an elven word for beloved of my soul
"We will accept your offer, but I must make clear that her safety is my main priority - that and escorting her to the Yuirwood. While she is talented it is not really in talents that would do well in straight combat."
"Which is why you'll distract them for me, won't you sh'mai.*" she smiled. "If I've got two big strong men to make sure I don't get hurt, then everything will be fine."
Firion frowned. "If your parents found out, they'd kill me. If you don't first."
Imai put her hands on her hips and huffed at him poutily, making him smile slightly.
Sh'mai is an elven word for beloved of my soul
Pietro looks at Firion. "I vill do my best to protect her. I may be appear uncivilised but in fact am quite capable uff usink my mind. We should perhaps go to Harmonia. There we can stay at the Old Kartakan Inn. It is a marvelous site to behold. Though I've never entered the premises, doesn't mean I've not seen it. You might even meet the reknowned Bard
Harkan Lukas.
As for getting you to ziss Yuirwood, I will help you if I can. I must stress to you that I haff never been inside an Inn, so if I get nervous or agitated
it is bekoss I am not accustomed to being amongst so many people. I am quite the bohemic person, ja. I usually just sit on the ground, cross legged and eat my meal with my hands. Well... let us proceed to the Inn."
Harkan Lukas.
As for getting you to ziss Yuirwood, I will help you if I can. I must stress to you that I haff never been inside an Inn, so if I get nervous or agitated
it is bekoss I am not accustomed to being amongst so many people. I am quite the bohemic person, ja. I usually just sit on the ground, cross legged and eat my meal with my hands. Well... let us proceed to the Inn."