Gods & Men: The Ancient Myths: Chapter 1 IC Thread

[Catman_prb]

"I had a travel companion before I reached Athens, a close friend of my fathers." she willed her voice steady at the thought of Aad.
"He was teaching me how to be more offensive in my skills." she looked at him and smiled. "That is why I came out here, to practice. But it's much harder holding up larger constructs, and making things move with deadly intent. I fear it will be some time before I am of any great use. Yours seems to be very useful, do you practice with it often?"

"Not since my mentor died I am afraid to say," Kelvamin said, smiling peaceably "There is much that he had yet to teach me, as there was much that his mentor did not teach him. The first Kelvamin had the power to move the world on it's end, so the legends say. He fought with demons of the Otherworld and spawn from beyond our ken. But nowadays the last of us is almost killed by a dragon. Kelvamin's blade is broken and the line is diminished,"

He frowned, his eyes on the floor for a second.

"We are none of us what our fathers wished of us," he whispered, more to himself than to Anthe, before looking up at her face and flashing a sheepish smile "A phrase that the friend of my father's liked to grace myself and my companions with,"

More clearly he saw the events of the dream pass before his eyes, and he finally came to the conclusion that it had indeed happened. He was troubled.

"But they are all dead now,"

 

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

The Docktore still taken aback it seems from the reveal of Caed's...curse as he puts it, Caed leaves the carved piece of wood in the man's hands. He then starts to head away from the wagon, towards the campfire. Most of the group either asleep or tending to their own things, Caed starts to tune his guitar just before he starts to pluck the strings.

I believe now, would be a swell time to continue my tale, my friends. Forgive me for the rather long tangent. But as you can see, with the encounter of my new comrades and the little quarrel afterwards, peace and safety have not been our friends until now.

***
​

...Kelvin stands there, confused and unsure of what's going on. He looks at Elwin, the man who he has looked up to as a father practically, but he struggles to look Kelvin in the eyes. The young elf is about to take a step forth, but stops as Magus gestures him a threat to end Elwin's life here and now as his hands start to surge with energy.

"My twin brother thought he could hide from you, Kelvin. But he should know better than anyone...hehehe: you cannot keep family apart. And that's just what we are Kelvin--"

"Don't listen to him! Everything he will tell you is a lie--ARRGGKK!"

Releasing the spell from his fist, Magus begins to choke Elwin with his hand. He keeps Drake at bay still with the sword, but puts more attention as he starts to lift the blacksmith off of his knees, rising him into the air slightly.

"A lie, blacksmith? Hahaha, what need do I have to lie?"

Turning to Kelvin, before turning back to face the blacksmith Elwin with a devilish smile, Magus speaks to his nephew.

"Tell me, boy. Did you ever wonder why it is that you ended up in Keltor? You honestly never wondered what an elf was doing in Keltor with Caldoria just at its border?"

"I...I--I don't--"

"Exactly, Kelvin. Your father, Lance--"

"You don't dare speak his name! AARRGH!!"

Swinging his arm around, Magus stabs Elwin in the gut. While this means Drake is no longer held at the tip of his sword, the young Dragon Rider in training is in so shock that he simply stands there frozen. The battalion of Caldorian warriors close in on the group, and Kelvin finds himself the star target of several crossbows and throwing axes. Magus drops the body of the blacksmith to the floor, and turns to Kelvin, signaling the warriors to hold their fire.

"You see what happens the more and more you are kept from me, nephew? The people around you die. So...shall I execute your little firey friend here? The pathetic 'Dragon Rider'? He doesn't even have a pet dragon and--"

"KELVIN!!"

With his last ounce of strength, Elwin gets up, pulling off a necklace that was draped around Magus' neck. He chucks it at Kelvin, and the young elf catches it.

"NOOO!!"

Instantly, as though Kelvin was tapping into the magical artifact, it starts to shine and glow. Infurious, Magus turns around, blasting Elwin away with a jolt of magic. And before the highly trained Elf-King can do a thing, a spell is cast unknowingly from the young elf Kelvin.

"Stop him! Shoot him! Don't let him--"

Fires from the heavens itself seems to fall from the skies. Large boulders made of pure fire pour out and drop on the small town within the kingdom of Keltor. Caldorian warrirors fall left and right, while some do their best to evade the attack. Magus himself, teleports away to protect himself from the magical onslaught. As though the necklace has a mind of its own, it creates a bubble of protective magic around both Kelvin and Drake, protecting them from the firery rain of destruction...
​

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Pushing through the low branches, Rothgar remained surprisingly silent as he navigated through the trees.

Equally as quiet was the wolf four meters in front of Rothgar that led him to a narrow forest path.

The wolf stopped and stared up at Rothgar as he walked up.

"What is it, little brother?"

The wolf ducked down and sniffed the ground. Rothgar knelt beside the animal and inspected the dirt.

Rothgar's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the ground.

"Bear tracks", he stated.
"And a rather big one, too."

"Wait", Rothgar paused as he leaned closer and squinted.
"The toe claw is too long...this isn't a normal bear."

Rothgar's mouth opened in surprise as it dawned on him.

"This is an owlbear track."

This wasn't good. Owlbears were ferocious and brutal hunters, often attacking and killing any animal it came across.

"So this is what happened to your pack", sighed Rothgar as he looked sadly at the wolf.
The wolf lowered lowered his head and whimpered.

"Do not worry, my friend", Rothgar spoke as he roughly petted the animal's back.
"We will avenge their deaths."

Rothgar rose to his feet and unsheathed mighty Banahogg from it's resting place.

"Let's go, little brother."

The wolf led the way into the forest, following the scent of the owlbear, as Rothgar silently followed.

 

[Andy C.]

TOGRUK KOR

The size and speed of our invasion force is something for which the people of Gaul were not prepared. After uniting all of the Orc clans of the British Isles, I had more than enough of an army to overrun the basic defenses. Crossing the Channel was another matter entirely. To cross we needed ships, and to make the ships, we needed slaves. It took quite some time to raid villages around the country, looking for smiths, woodcutters, humans or Elves or Dwarves that were strong enough to do the work, but not strong enough to fight back. The slave forces creating my armada were nearly as large as my army itself.

The other matter testing me through the long wait was my army itself. We Orcs are not patient creatures, and most rarely see the advantage in any education other than different ways to smash someone's head. It took a great deal of patience and cunning to keep them in line, as well as occasionally making examples out of the particularly unruly. One such uprising took place early on, a son of a local chieftain claiming that I was so 'civilized' that I might as well be an Elf. To make a point, I broke his arms and legs with his own war club, then ate his guts while he was still alive.

After that, those little would-be rebellions were few and far between, and slowly but surely, the Orcs began accepting my training. At first, I taught only that which would be immediately interesting: new techniques with blades and clubs, camouflage for ambushes, how to make bombs and cannon. From there I began picking the brightest and teaching them other things that matter:

Maneuvering tactics and greater, long-term strategy.

History and culture of the other races, and how to exploit it.

Political maneuvering among ruling classes, and how to turn enemies into allies.

The Orc had always known how to fight battles and run a tribe. By the time the armada was complete, these Orcs knew how to fight wars and act as a nation.

For all of the difficulties, this morning's assault was worth every second of it. When word of an Orc army landing on the beaches of northern Gaul reached inland, a contingency of human and Elf militia were dispatched to confront us. Expecting a disorganized band of stupid savages, they came at us with nearly twice our number, confident that they would beat us back and return home as heroes.

By midday, their lines had been utterly broken, mounds of pale-skinned bodies laying mangled in the dirt. And not a single Orc had died in the exchange. A beach-head established, the rest of our army landed, and we marched inland towards the nearest town, where a concentrated force of Elven elites were waiting for us.

Now, it is after nightfall. I sit in what must have been the town hall, in a great wooden chair newly decorated with Elf skulls. My lieutenants sit at a long table before me, all enjoying a bloody feast from the town's plentiful resources. A single Elf captain, armor still spattered with his comrades' blood, sits shivering at the end of the table.

"Eat!" I call out to him. "Today's battle is over. Now we will dine and discuss what happens next, in a more civilized manner."

A plate of steaming cuts of meat is laid before him, and he looks at it skeptically first, prods at it with his fork, and takes a small bite. Apparently enjoying the taste, he then takes a bigger bite, and I cannot help but smile.

"You see? Just because you are an Elf does not mean you are not welcome at my table. In fact, all of the fair-skinned races--human, Elf, Dwarf, even Halfling--are all welcome at my table."

The Elf smiles graciously, then digs into his meal hungrily.

"All that we are looking to do is make a home for ourselves, to better our people into one that can stand and look our fellow races in the eye with pride. It was regrettable that a show of force was necessary today, but that should go to show you just how devoted we are to the cause. If your Lords would see fit to grant us the land we ask for, further confrontation will no longer be needed. And if they do not, well....."

My lieutenants begin to grin and hold back their laughter.

"It would be unfortunate for all of your people to end up like your fellow soldiers. Speaking of which....are you enjoying your meal?"

The Elf looks down at his plate in horror, and then practically throws himself out of his chair, vomit spewing from his mouth as he crawls away. My lieutenants howl with triumphant laughter, and I stand from my chair, smiling from ear to ear.

"Run along now, little Elf. Go tell your Lords what you faced today. Tell them what we want, and what we are willing to do. And make sure you tell them about your meal tonight."

He runs from the town hall, tripping over his own feet as he flees, raising more roars of derision and laughter from the Orcs outside. As he runs, the celebration truly begins, drums and horns sounding today's victory into the night sky.

I slump back into my chair, and a human slave fills my goblet half with bloody red wine.

"No manners, these Elves. He didn't even thank me for dinner!"

My men laugh, and raise toasts and cheers. The celebration is likely to last until dawn.

Overall, this has been a very good start. The question now is if we can keep it up.
​

 

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

...The spell Kelvin unknowingly casted had ceased, as well as the protective bubble which formed around he and Drake. The young elf and human stood in silence and awe at the sight before them. Kelvin's spell brought on such destruction and power that the town was demolished; the same could be said about the Armored Elite. Magus however was no where to be seen.

"K-Kel--Kelvin!"

The weak and weary voice of the blacksmith Elwin cries out to his adoptive son. Instantly both Kelvin and Drake run over and kneel down to the fallen comrade. Kelvin takes Elwin in his arms as the dying blacksmith sits up.

"W-What just happened, Elwin? How did I?"

"The heirloom...the necklace. That thing you now h-h-hold in your hands...it's been in your fa--fa-family for centuries upon c-centuries. It holds unknown abilities...dep...de--depending on its wearer. It's said to grant its user a many great blessings...it gave you your miracle. W-w-what...what you needed most..."

"What...what do I do now, Elwin?"

"You must...flee, Kelvin. Flee...for your life. Y-your uncle Ma-ma-magus...will stop at no--nothing...until you're dead."

"Flee? But where do I go? Who can I turn to?"

"Ch--Ch...Cherry Blosssssssom Forest. Seek out...A--A-Ace. K-king of the F-f-fa--faeries."

"Elwin...ELWIN!!"

But Elwin does not utter words any further. The blacksmith which had watched over and taken care of Kelvin now dead, the young elf starts to grow angry and mad. Panic start to fill his head, while Drake keeps his emotions in check despite the great loss and tragedy this day. The blow from the horn of the Dragon Riders echoes through the skies, but they are too late.

"We must go, Kelvin. When my brother sees this...what you did...he will not understand. Listen, I will explain myself later but right now we need to get out of here. We will travel through the forest west of here. I must pick up Draggy before we depart. My brother and the other Dragon Riders will not suspect us to be at the Dragon's Den as they investigate the matter. Then we will seek out this...Cherryblossom Forest that Elwin has mentioned."

Lying there in shock, Kelvin hears Drake's words and his warnings but does not act. He stares at the dead eyes of Elwin the blacksmith as they stare back at him with no life within them.

"KELVIN!! We must leave NOW!"

Finally getting a hold of himself, Kelvin looks back at Drake and nods. Taking two of his fingers, he closes shut the eyelids on Elwin's eyes. Bowing to his fallen father figure after he lies him down peacefully, Kelvin follows Drake as they head for the woods...

​

 

[wiegeabo]

"Wake up..."

snore...

"Wake up."

"gmmamfdmumblegmgmg..."

"Wake up Xxymryx!!!"

My eyes snap open. I sit up on my bedroll at the urgent sound of Pyrist's deep voice. After a full day of pushing the horses to their limit, we finally had to stop. I could hardly keep my eyes open any longer, and there was no possible way Pyrist could continue to heal my horses.

Grabbing my staff, I rush to my wagon. I had let Pyrist rest there, and he too is awake, and peaking out the front opening. He signals me to be quiet and waves me over. I slowly make my way to him to see what he is looking at.

I suddenly wish I had stayed asleep.

"An army of the undead?" I whisper.

"No, not an army. And not undead. Look closer."

I stare a few moments longer, letting my eyes adjust to the dark. "...Goblins."

Pyrist nods. "Yes."

"What are they doing here? Could they have joined forces with the Lich King?"

"Possible. But the motives of goblins are usually their own. I count no more than twenty. Probably a scouting force Or, it could be just as likely they're following the lich's army and scavenging the remains."

"Not a chance we can take. So, since they're ahead of us, the next question is..."

"How do we get to Thebes."

I contemplate our situation. "We have to move. If they catch our scent..."

"Move the wagon? They'll hear us for sure."

"No choice. We can backtrack and find another path to Thebes, but if we stay here-"

"Oh...you'll most definitely be staying here."

I spin around, staff at the ready, my other hand quickly slipping into my robes. The goblin glares at us if we're more meal than enemy. And knowing them as I do, we probably are.

The goblin smiles at us, saliva dripping from his irregular teeth. He pulls a horn from his belt, ready to signal his comrades. "Looks like we won't have to hunt for breakfast after all..."

 

[twylight]

"Not since my mentor died I am afraid to say," Kelvamin said, smiling peaceably "There is much that he had yet to teach me, as there was much that his mentor did not teach him. The first Kelvamin had the power to move the world on it's end, so the legends say. He fought with demons of the Otherworld and spawn from beyond our ken. But nowadays the last of us is almost killed by a dragon. Kelvamin's blade is broken and the line is diminished,"

He frowned, his eyes on the floor for a second.

"We are none of us what our fathers wished of us," he whispered, more to himself than to Anthe, before looking up at her face and flashing a sheepish smile "A phrase that the friend of my father's liked to grace myself and my companions with,"

More clearly he saw the events of the dream pass before his eyes, and he finally came to the conclusion that it had indeed happened. He was troubled.

"But they are all dead now,"

Aithne stood quietly and listened, it was clear she was not the only one in pain because of a loss. In fact it seemed as if everyone in the group had lost someone in this fight.

"It is a good phrase, more true for some than others." She thought of her father, always so proud of her. She wondered briefly if she was as he would have wished. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at him. He was pale. Reaching out she felt his forehead.

"You should return to camp." she looked up into the sky. "It's late, and I am not as adept in my skills as I should be for offense and defense."

She looked back at him and smiled.

"You and the other warriors are needed in good health before we get much further. I doubt the Docktore or the Bard would be much help in an ambush." She gave a soft chuckle as she thought of the Bard fighting again.

A soft whisper came from the woods behind her and she looked at Kelvamin before realizing only she'd heard it.
"Lets go." Aithne put her hand on his arm.

 

[Catman_prb]

Aithne stood quietly and listened, it was clear she was not the only one in pain because of a loss. In fact it seemed as if everyone in the group had lost someone in this fight.

"It is a good phrase, more true for some than others." She thought of her father, always so proud of her. She wondered briefly if she was as he would have wished. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at him. He was pale. Reaching out she felt his forehead.

"You should return to camp." she looked up into the sky. "It's late, and I am not as adept in my skills as I should be for offense and defense."

She looked back at him and smiled.

"You and the other warriors are needed in good health before we get much further. I doubt the Docktore or the Bard would be much help in an ambush." She gave a soft chuckle as she thought of the Bard fighting again.

A soft whisper came from the woods behind her and she looked at Kelvamin before realizing only she'd heard it.
"Lets go." Aithne put her hand on his arm.

"A good idea," Kelvamin said, nodding gracefully as the swordsman returned to the camp. He wrapped himself in a number of firs and blankets, and fell into a feverish sleep.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Rothgar followed the wolf through the trees. Silently the pair stalked the trail of the owlbear.

Rothgar paused by a large oak, scrutinizing the bark and the deep gash marks gouged into the tree.

"Not even an hour old", Rothgar whispered as he touched the claw marks.

The wolf and Rothgar continued their trek, both on high alert as they passed through the trees.

Suddenly the wolf stopped as it came to a large area of brush and vines.
Rothgar slowly crept up to kneel next to the animal.

Out in the middle of a clearing next to a small brook was the owlbear, bending over to drink.
The beast gulped down a mouthful of the cool water and raised itself up and let out a bizarre, hooting roar.

The owlbear was large, at least eight-hundred pounds by Rothgar's estimation.
This would not be easy.

"All right, little brother", Rothgar spoke to the wolf as his eyes never left the owlbear.
"Prepare yourself for battle. Your revenge is at hand."

 

[wiegeabo]

"Wake up..."

snore...

"Wake up."

"gmmamfdmumblegmgmg..."

"Wake up Xxymryx!!!"

My eyes snap open. I sit up on my bedroll at the urgent sound of Pyrist's deep voice. After a full day of pushing the horses to their limit, we finally had to stop. I could hardly keep my eyes open any longer, and there was no possible way Pyrist could continue to heal my horses.

Grabbing my staff, I rush to my wagon. I had let Pyrist rest there, and he too is awake, and peaking out the front opening. He signals me to be quiet and waves me over. I slowly make my way to him to see what he is looking at.

I suddenly wish I had stayed asleep.

"An army of the undead?" I whisper.

"No, not an army. And not undead. Look closer."

I stare a few moments longer, letting my eyes adjust to the dark. "...Goblins."

Pyrist nods. "Yes."

"What are they doing here? Could they have joined forces with the Lich King?"

"Possible. But the motives of goblins are usually their own. I count no more than twenty. Probably a scouting force Or, it could be just as likely they're following the lich's army and scavenging the remains."

"Not a chance we can take. So, since they're ahead of us, the next question is..."

"How do we get to Thebes."

I contemplate our situation. "We have to move. If they catch our scent..."

"Move the wagon? They'll hear us for sure."

"No choice. We can backtrack and find another path to Thebes, but if we stay here-"

"Oh...you'll most definitely be staying here."

I spin around, staff at the ready, my other hand quickly slipping into my robes. The goblin glares at us if we're more meal than enemy. And knowing them as I do, we probably are.

The goblin smiles at us, saliva dripping from his irregular teeth. He pulls a horn from his belt, ready to signal his comrades. "Looks like we won't have to hunt for breakfast after all..."

Before I can make a move, the goblin brings the horn to his lips and blows with all his lungs can hold.

The silence is deafening.

"What?!" The goblin yelps in surprise.

I just smile. "Nice trick, Pyrist." Without giving him another moment, I run at the goblin, bringing my staff down. The goblin is just fast enough to drop his useless horn and bring his sword up to block.

Again, the silence speaks volumes.

I realize that the sound of our fight would bring the goblins running. So Pyrist, always a step ahead, has swathed us in utter quiet. And I must admit, one does not realize how odd it is to fight without sound until it is experienced.

His blade and my staff, now imbued with the strength of the best steel, hit and deflect one another over and over again. But there is no clash of metal. No tell-tale sounds that our weapons collide. I can feel my heart pounding, blood racing through my ears, but I can't hear it.

It is the most odd sensation to be surrounded by noise one moment, then none the next. I can't hear my breathing, nor the goblin's. No sounds come from the woods. For all intents and purposes, this goblin and I are the only two beings in the world.

And you wouldn't think so, but hearing is an essential part of the fight. And it's only through this silence I now realize it. All the subtle noises I used to take for granted are absent. The shift of dirt as the goblin turns his foot for a strike. The subtle grind of leather telling me which direction his attack is coming. The shuffling of his feet and grunting in his throat, telling me exactly where he is when we slips past each other and he's behind me.

But this is where experience wins out. Despite the goblin's fierceness, he's obviously rarely fought an opponent with any developed skills. Not surprising seeing as how goblins tend to overwhelm weaker enemies with sheer numbers.

So sliding my staff behind me to absorb the goblin's desperate swing at my back takes him off his guard. And it's child's play to finally pull my dagger from my robes and spin, driving it behind me deep into his bowls. As I pull the blade clear, I can only see his roar of anger.

He falls to his knees, clutching his body in pain. I spin around and bring my staff down on his skull, ending his miserable life. With a shock to my senses, the sounds of the forest return. I actually need to put my hands over my ears, the rush of noise is so loud.

I wipe my blade on the grass. Goblin's blood has little value, and I don't really have time to worry about collecting it. A shame too. A goblin's liver, on the other hand, can be worth a good trade. Instead, I rush back as quietly as I can and pull myself up onto the wagon. Pyrist tosses my bedroll at me. I catch it and put it in the back as he joins me.

"Can you cloak the wagon in silence as well?" I whisper.

Pyrist nods. "Yes, but it is dangerous. We will not be able to hear them give chase if they see us."

I shake my head after a moment's thought. "No choice. We must take the chance. Keep a watchful eye."

"I will." It's the last sounds I hear as Pyrist mumbles a spell and the world once again goes silent.

I whip the horse's reigns and use the chance to tear off into the night...

 

[twylight]

The forest was silent, and the soft twittering of the night birds was faint and far between as she slowly made her way through it. Aithne reached out and touched one of the trees. They were so different here, so...still. The night sky hung above the canopy of the trees and glistened with stars, looking like sparks from bonfires resting upon a deep blue wool. The near full moon casting shades on the ground. Pulling her cloak around her she took another step, a small bunny darting from a nearby bush and with effort Aithne quickly stopped it. Her hand outstretched she focused on the water in it's body. She could feel it moving, trying to break free from whatever force held it still from the inside. She quickly let it go, allowing it to race off into the brush, as she gasped for breathe. Trying to shut away from her mind it's large eyes, full of panic, and forget the feel of it's blood racing faster in panic.

Closing her eyes she put her hand over her chest. She'd managed to kill only one creature in the way she planned, a small, injured field mouse Aad had caught one night. How could she practice and kill another one? Pulling into herself she stretched out her senses, nearby she could feel a more concentrated area of water, most likely a brook. Turning she worked her way towards it until she could hear the happy gurgling of a small brook. A smile spread across her face as she reached out and felt its flow. She worked her way out of the trees and into the clearing before kneeling and dipping her hand into the clear water. She watched as it ran over her hand before pulling her hand out, leaving a stream of water in its wake which she quickly gathered into a small orb.

She sat and willed the orb to bob and float, enjoying the peacefulness of the water and feeling for more. Which was how she ended up sensing the creature. Her body froze and she slowly turned to look to her right, her eyes going wide. Slowly moving back she watched the creature. It looked like an unholy mix of two creatures; a bear and an owl. Her mind fleetingly wondered what sort of person would form a creature as thus.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

The owlbear cocked it's head to the side as it scrutinized the young woman kneeling only a dozen or so meters away from it.
The animal was surprised at the human that had stumbled into it's midst, but it acted instinctively.

It growled, almost a whistling sound, as it charged at the girl.

A silver throwing axe came flying in from the treeline behind the girl, embedding itself in the beast's shoulder and causing it to trip and fall.

The wolf growled and barked as it rushed in, leaping onto the owlbear's back and sinking in it's teeth.
The creature snarled and jerked it's massive shoulders, tossing the wolf off of it.

But Rothgar was already on top of the beast, lopping one of the owlbear's front paws off with a swipe from burning Banahogg.

"Aithne", Rothgar called as he moved to stand between the enraged animal and the Irish elementalist.
"Are you all right?"

 

[SuperFerret]

Some time ago...

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

“Okay, lad, now ye got to turn it over.” Brottor said to his ‘son’ Einkil, who was holding the heated piece of metal that would become the boy’s very first sword.

“Like this, father?” Einkil asked, respect filling his gruff voice as he turned the soon-to-be sword, then using his muscular forearm to wipe some sweat off his sloping brow. It sure was hot this close to the forge.

“Aye lad, just like that.” Brottor began to pound the metal flat again, sending small sparks scattering with each landed blow.

“Poppa?” came a melodic voice from the entrance to the shop. Both the older dwarf and the younger half-orc looked up in response. Unlike her twin brother Einkil, Diesa got most of her traits from her mother’s humanity. The young half-orcish beauty shared the slight greenish skin tone of her brother, but she had a human’s features and intelligence, and most of all, her voice was heavenly. Brottor was sure that the girl was to become a famed singer one day, just as he knew that Einkil’s immense strength and rather dim mind would lead the boy down the road of the warrior. “Poppa, Mother wanted me to tell the two of you that dinner is done. We wouldn’t want that mutton getting cold.”

Einkil did a double take, looking back and forth from his sister, his father and his new unfinished sword. “But, what about..” he stuttered.

“No need to worry, lad.” Brottor said, laying down his hammers and snuffing out the forge’s fire, “we can finish after dinner. The metal’s not going anywhere, and your dear mother’s mutton is nothing to put off until later. Let’s go eat.” With that, Brottor Balderk walked with his two adopted children down the road a bit to their home.




Now. Near the southernmost border of Charaun's realm.

The werewolf's snarl was cut short by the thunderous crack of it's skull beneath the enchanted hammer Th'Rak. Brottor Balderk, the dwarven paladin whose arm drove both holy hammer and pulverized skull down into the upper portions of the lycanthrope's now twitching torso, fended off another snarling wolfman with his shield arm, driving his still living opponent back with his heavy shield.

"You'll die for that, dwarf, you killed my brother." growled the remaining werewolf, circling the heavily armored dwarf.

Brottor did not respond, he merely stared back at the pacing beast with a determined and nearly maddened look in his eye. Despite his stoic nature, and disciplined paladinhood, Brottor would alway be a dwarf and as such part of him deep down loved bloody combat, especially against evil creatures. It was a part of Brottor that he both loathed and loved, and he only let it show through his eyes, making them into burning pools of passion that stood in stark contrast to his otherwise calm and calculated mannerisms in combat.

"I've killed your brother." He said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, "I will kill you."

If the blunt statement of fact unnerved the enraged lycanthrope, the werewolf did an excellent job of concealing it. Wordlessly bellowing in fury and anguish, it launched itself at Brottor, who calmly took an offensive stance in response.

The beast's jaws struck home, merely denting the armor protecting Brottor's left biceps, but digging deeply into the flesh of the triceps muscles on the less armored underside of his arm. Giving not a grunt in response or reaction, Brottor brought Th'Rak down once more, slamming into the monster's face. It fell at the dwarf's feet, hacking and coughing up dark red blood.

"Heh. *kak* Heh." it laughed, "You have killed me, master dwarf, but my bite will force you to remember me and my brother upon each full moon. I will die well with that knowledge."

"You are wrong, beast." Brottor responded, raising Th'Rak high, "I am a paladin of Moradin, and the Soul Forger protects me from your foul disease. Die with that knowledge."

Th'Rak came down once more.

 

[SuperFerret]

The werewolf's blood washed away down the swiftly running waters of what was possibly the last pure stream within the boundaries of Charaun's accursed territory. Brottor Balderk sat on the bank, meticulously cleaning the remainders of his prior battle from Th'Rak and his armor. As he scrubbed to restore the gleam to the metal, his mind wandered to a better time. The melodic voice of his adopted daughter playing in his brain, sounding as crisp and clear in his memory as it would were she standing on the opposite bank.

Brottor sighed heavily, despair taking him momentarily. He quickly composed himself, muttering bitterly as only a dwarf can as he resumed scrubbing the gore from his hammer, his frustration apparent in his harder and faster than necessary motion with the brush. He had been seperated from those he loved before, why should this time distract him so?

Letting out an uncharacteristic curse, Brottor threw the brush to the ground in anger, Diesa's song once more floating to the forefront of his consciousness.

"I will see you again, dearest daughter, this I swear. Poppa will return to you after this evil is vanquished."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

The owlbear cocked it's head to the side as it scrutinized the young woman kneeling only a dozen or so meters away from it.
The animal was surprised at the human that had stumbled into it's midst, but it acted instinctively.

It growled, almost a whistling sound, as it charged at the girl.

A silver throwing axe came flying in from the treeline behind the girl, embedding itself in the beast's shoulder and causing it to trip and fall.

The wolf growled and barked as it rushed in, leaping onto the owlbear's back and sinking in it's teeth.
The creature snarled and jerked it's massive shoulders, tossing the wolf off of it.

But Rothgar was already on top of the beast, lopping one of the owlbear's front paws off with a swipe from burning Banahogg.

"Aithne", Rothgar called as he moved to stand between the enraged animal and the Irish elementalist.
"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine", the girl replied.
If she was frightened from the beast, she didn't show it. Still, Rothgar didn't want to take any chances.

"Go back to the camp!We'll handle this."

"No, I can help you", she stated as she rose to her feet.

"I know you can", Rothgar replied as he ducked under a swiping claw from the owlbear and sliced at the monster's belly with his blade.
"But this is a personal dispute", Rothgar finished as the wolf leaped onto the animal's back, once more sinking it's teeth into the owlbear's neck.

"Return to camp. I'll be right behind you."

Frustrated, Aithne did what she was asked and returned into the forest, heading back towards the group's campsite.

The owlbear tried to shake the wolf off, but the wolf just dug his fangs in deeper.
The owlbear reared it's head back to roar, and that's when Rothgar struck, thrusting his sword into the monster's throat. The wolf hopped off the owlbear as the flames of Banahogg ignited the fir/feathers around the beast's head. The beast howled in rage and pain as it flailed about, trying to desperately put out the fire.

Eventually the owlbear fell into the brook, the flames hissing as the water doused them.
Rothgar was on the beast before it could take in a breath, running his sword through it's back and out it's chest.

The owlbear thrashed, but Rothgar held firm. Finally the thrashing subsided, and the warrior removed his blade from the dead animal.

Rothgar stepped backwards and fell hard on his backside. Sitting in the cool grass, Rothgar stuck his sword in the ground next to him and took a deep breath.

"It is done", he spoke as the wolf walked up to him.
"You're family is avenged."

The wolf licked him on his face, which made the rugged Norseman laugh heartily.

"All right! All right! You're welcome", he said as he pushed the wolf away and scratched him behind his ear.

"Well, I think it's time we both got some rest", Rothgar said as he stood up.
"With your family gone, I will welcome you into mine, if you wish."

The wolf sang off a series of barks and growls.

"The road is a dangerous one", he warned.
"We both may not make it out alive."

The wolf grunted in response and tipped his head towards the tree line.

"All right, Little Brother. Let's go back to camp."

With the wolf following closely behind him, Rothgar slowly made the trek back towards the campsite. It would be dawn in a few hours, and they needed all the rest he could get.

 

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

...With Kelvin and Drake now on the run, they forever left Keltor. After grabbing Drake's pet dragon, Draggy, the two escaped into the woods that expand beyond and outside of the Keltoren Kingdom. Magus would continue to pursue them for weeks upon weeks, with nothing but reports of failure from his minions that wandered the lands. During this time, the Caldorian Empire had successfully taken full control of the kingdom of Keltor. Daygon, Drake's own brother, was now leading the Dragon Riders across the lands under the higher command of Magus without choice. While he held command, one of Magus' more trusted men, Darius, was keeping an eye on Daygon at all times should the brother of Drake choose to betray the Caldorian King.

***

Kelvin and Drake searched everywhere in every town they came across. They had never heard of or known of a Faerie Community and whenever they asked the local townfolk they were normally answered with nothing but mockery and laughter. Faeries were not the rearest of mythical creatures, but this was a time when they were still very cut off from the world of mankind. Having despised the actions of man for centuries, the faeries appeared and interacted with few in history. Some beleive that the faeries were so disgusted with the world that they traveled to a world across the oceans and found peace. Others thought that they lived in the very trees of various forests and the entrances were only accessible by magic.Kelvin had prayed the the latter, for Kelvin spoke of a Cherryblossom Forest. Only issue is there is no map or chart with a record of a Cherryblossom Forrest.

***

And so, for weeks upon weeks Kelvin and Drake would travel what seemed to be the entire Caldorian Kingdom. They had nothing more than a name: Ace, King of the Fairies...​

Morning has come upon us, and I do believe it is time to wake the rest as we are on a must urgent travel to Thebes. My tale shall continue another time and rest assurred, I will be able ot finish it.
​

Playing the last note of his tune, Caed swings his guitar around to his backside. Standing up, he stretches for a brief moment, taking a look at the sunrise just over the short distance.

"Just beyond the sunset, and over the hills, and in lands miles and miles from here...lies my destiny. Ah, how peaceful I shall finally be when the time comes."

 

[SuperFerret]

Brottor started awake from a deep sleep that came upon him as suddenly as it left. He shook his head angrily, his beard wagging as he cursed himself for letting his guard down. He stood, beginning to put on his armor when he stopped abruptly.

His BEARD!?

Brottor grabbed at his chin, and sure enough, there was his beard, as long and as golden as it would be had he not shaved it daily. In his befuddled surprise, he recalled the words that he had heard in his subconscious.

BROTTOR, SON OF WALGRIM, OF CLAN BALDERK, OF THE NATION OF DURAM, BENEATH THE PEAKS OF THE ALPS, HEAR ME. HEAR THE WORDS OF MORADIN, THE SOUL-FORGER. A GATHERING OF HEROES WILL MEET IN THE CITY CALLED THEBES. THE GODS OF THE DWARVES DEEM IT FIT FOR YOU TO GO TO THEM AND KEEP WATCH OVER THEM, FOR THEY ARE YOUNG AND MAY NEED YOUR GUIDEANCE. SO SAYS MORADIN.

Moradin, the Soul-Forger, creator of the dwarven race, had contacted him, restoring his beard and with it, his honor.

Thebes. Brottor nodded to himself, reaching down and grasping Th'Rak firmly. Moradin commands me to go there, then to Thebes I must go.

Brottor gathered his possessions and turned south.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Rothgar yawned and cracked his neck as he awoke from his rest. He was still tired, only having gotten a few hours of sleep, but he would manage.

The morning light began to peek over the tree tops as Rothgar stood up and stretched.

"And how was your rest, Little Brother?"

The wolf barked in reply as he sat down and looked up to Rothgar.

"Well, at least one of us slept all right. Now let's head back to the others."

Rothgar gathered his belongings and slowly began the small trek back to the main encampment.

Along the way, he spotted a rather large hare, and, with the help of the wolf, was able to run it down and make the kill.

"A tasty breakfast", Rothgar smiled as he picked up the dead rabbit, and patted the wolf on his head.
"Excellent work, Little Brother. You are quite the hunter."

The wolf yipped excitedly as the pair continued their walk. Within a few minutes, Rothgar and the wolf strode out of the forest as the rest of the group was just getting up themselves.

"Good morning, my friends", the jovial Rothgar beamed. A surprisingly fit and healthy jovial Rothgar.
Nothing like the injured man who walked into the woods to sleep the night before. Not to mention he now seemed to be followed by a large wolf.

"My friend and I found a nice, plump hare on our way back to camp", he said as he tossed the hare onto the back of the Docktore's wagon.

"It will make the perfect addition to breakfast, right Little Brother", he stated as he ruffly petted the wolf on the top of it's head.
The animal wagged it's shaggy tail and barked happily.

 

[trustyside-kick]

"Good morning, my friends", the jovial Rothgar beamed. A surprisingly fit and healthy jovial Rothgar.
Nothing like the injured man who walked into the woods to sleep the night before. Not to mention he now seemed to be followed by a large wolf.

"My friend and I found a nice, plump hare on our way back to camp", he said as he tossed the hare onto the back of the Docktore's wagon.

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

Caed smiles as he spots the wolf walking along with Rothgar. Seeing the two like this...brings back memories. Memories of...him. And it's with that memory of him, who like Rothgar does now traveled with a trusty animal pet wolf, that Caed suddenly feels a pain in his heart, for the sins of his past. He tries to shake it off, walking towards the two. His sins will soon be forgiven. This he is sure of. Then he will finally find true, eternal peace.

"It will make the perfect addition to breakfast, right Little Brother", he stated as he ruffly petted the wolf on the top of it's head.
The animal wagged it's shaggy tail and barked happily.

"Spunky little guy, isn't he?"

The wolf's tail continues to wag, and Caed stares into its eyes. There is a great deal of sadness in Caed's eyes for he stares into the wolves' eyes for too long it would appear. The memories of the past, clouding and haunting him far too much.

"Yes...spunky little guy he is..."

Sniffing, and wiping his eyes, Caed walks to the other end of The Docktore's wagon just after Rothgar gives him a peculiar expression. Turning to the Italian Alchemist, Caed speaks.

"I believe everyone's ready, Signor Giovanni. To Thebes."
​

 

[wiegeabo]

At the top of the hill, I can see the road to Thebes stretch down into the city below. I stifle a yawn and look over at Pyrist. He fell asleep only a short time ago. Even my companion is resting quietly. I don't blame them. We've traveled over a day's journey in less than half the time. And it still feels as if the goblins are right behind us.

But I push that irrational fear aside. Goblin's may be able to travel long distances with little sleep, but Pyrist kept the horses energized until the last few miles. Only exhaustion finally slowed us down.

I gently snap the reigns and start the horses down the path. As we approach the city, a pair of guards step in our way. They try not to look too obvious, but the way they hold their weapons belies their intentions.

"Who are you?" one says coarsely.

"We are just travelers looking for rest in Thebes after a hard journey."

"No strangers may enter Thebes during these dark times."

I give him my famous smile. "My friend is a priest. Who is more trustworthy than that." The guards continue to look at us dubiously. "We are only tired and looking for the safety of a town."

I notice a couple of other guards in the distance take more notice of us and start to approach.

"You can let us pass," Pyrist says. The first guard looks us over for another moment. "You can trust us."

"We can trust them," he shouts to his comrades. "Let them pass."

I start the horses walking again and pass by the guards into town. "Good timing. You must teach me that," I say.

"I have tried."

I grin tiredly and start looking for the inn...

 

[Byrd Man]

​

​

Sniffing, and wiping his eyes, Caed walks to the other end of The Docktore's wagon just after Rothgar gives him a peculiar expression. Turning to the Italian Alchemist, Caed speaks.​

"I believe everyone's ready, Signor Giovanni. To Thebes."​

"If everyone is ready. Then, HA!" I say as I hit the reigns and the horses move forward.

"To Thebes!"


Later

It takes a few hours, but before mid-day we're riding into the streets of the city.

"Thebes, Thebes! It's a hell of a town! If you can't make it here....well, then go ahead and give up."

I slow the cart down and we come to a stop on the city streets.

"I sent Watts forward to send for a healer." I say as I turn around and address the party.

"We shouldn't be here too long before we're ready to move north."

 

[Byrd Man]

"The enemy will be ready for us this time", the lich continued.
"Spies have detected forces from Greece, Albion, and even the Norselands marching to meet us. We must take Düsseldorf quickly, and set the battlefield before they arrive."

"As you wish, my lord."

Later

The army of the Lich-King now surrounded the paltry one hundred or so men that were left of Dusseldorf's army.

"We surrender!" One cried out.

"Mercy."

From the back of the army's ranks, Hilarion heard and scoffed. He rode through the army and appeared before the soldiers on his undead horse.

"Your surrender has been accepted, humans. You will now join the Lich-King's army." Hilarion called back.

"Anything you say!" Another German warrior yelled.

"Archers, prepare to fire!"

"No! You said we would be spared."

"Yes. The terms of your surrender will be met. To join the Lich-King's army, you must first die."

The dead knight turned on his horse as the arrows whistled through the air and covered the warriors.

Dusseldorf had been taken. All hail Lord Charaun.

 

[SuperFerret]

Brottor made his way south to Thebes, at once grateful and confused by the quest that Moradin had tasked him with. A holy quest! A difficult and arduous journey to fulfill a task and prove himself worthy in the eyes of Moradin once more. A holy quest? Why would the Soul-Forger ask a mission of such great importance from one of such little value? Brottor's thoughts kept him from feeling his forced march, which spanned three days and two nights without stopping.

Until he reached the woods.

Brottor, like all dwarves, was uncomfortable in forested areas. Too much wood, not enough stone. "Wood, son, is unreliable." his father used to say, "It lived once, and like all things that live and die, it will rot away. Not stone, Brottor, stone is eternal."

The dwarven paladin sighed. If into the woods he must go, then into the woods he'll go.

*----------*​

An hour later, Brottor had begun to wish he were either underground or an elf, underground was more preferable. The forest floor was dense with thick roots, underfoot plants and other foliage related debris, and it slowed him down considerably.

What was worse than the forest though, was what was in it. Brottor's senses detected something following him for the last fifteen minutes.

He was being hunted.

Brottor's eyes narrowed and his grip on the throwing axe at his belt tightened as he stooped down, pretending to adjust his boot. The position made him look vulnerable, and were he of any other race, he would be. However, being close to the ground is where a dwarf is at his most dangerous.

His stalker did not attack though. It chose to reveal itself to him, landing with a soft thud on a nearby fallen tree. It sounded almost elven until it snarled. Brottor looked up, axe in hand, his other ready to bring Th'Rak to bear.

Standing on the log before him was a tall beakless bird-like creature covered in brown hawk-like feathers. It snarled again, and almost bowed to him, claws ready and jaws open.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"If everyone is ready. Then, HA!" I say as I hit the reigns and the horses move forward.

"To Thebes!"


Later

It takes a few hours, but before mid-day we're riding into the streets of the city.

"Thebes, Thebes! It's a hell of a town! If you can't make it here....well, then go ahead and give up."

I slow the cart down and we come to a stop on the city streets.

"I sent Watts forward to send for a healer." I say as I turn around and address the party.

"We shouldn't be here too long before we're ready to move north."

"Yes, we should be on our way as soon as possible", Rothgar said as he got out of the wagon and stretched.

Looking across the street he noticed a small inn called the Hall of Herakles, and it brought a smile to his face.

"I think I'll go and see what information I can drum up, as well as quench my thirst."

Looking back to the cart, Rothgar eyed the wolf and held out his hand, making a "stop" motion.
"Stay here, little brother. Guard the cart."

The wolf whimpered in dismay, but obeyed and sat down in the back of the Docktore's wagon.
Rothgar licked his dry lips and laughed as he strode off towards the inn.

 

[Catman_prb]

Kelvamin hopped off of the cart, eyeing the wolf warily. Throughout his many and varied travels, he had found that wolves were usually bad news. The fact that this one was not in a pack, and had not yet made an attempt to rip his throat out did nothing to ease his fears. Shaking off the cold that gripped his body, he followed Rothgar towards the inn.

He coughed at the smoke as he entered, almost immediately losing his comrade in the crowd. He made his way to the bar and smiled at the blond bar wench who was sat behind it.

"Whiskey," he said gently "An Irish single malt if you have any,"