Monday, October 8, 2018
Friday, October 5, 2018
On This Day
For a Flashback Friday, lets take a look at what we were talking about at the View From Valehaven on this day in years past...
2016 - Why You Should Go to In Bud's Honor
Alex Newbold elegantly expressed how we could remember our lost friend and do good for a charity in his name as he petitioned the community to attend In Bud's Honor, which successfully raised funds for the Take This Foundation.
https://viewfromvalehaven.blogspot.com/2016/10/why-you-should-go.html
2012 - The Grimloch Tribune
Before Syruss was organizing the Neden Kazoo he got his start in publishing while he was still in Grimloch. Take a look at both their lead story about T.H.U.G.S. and the Dear Rohodey advice column.
https://viewfromvalehaven.blogspot.com/2012/10/grimloch-tribune.html
2011 - A Fighting Chance - The Aspis
Faelinn, in advance of the War of Shadows event, created a detailed guide to fighting the Aspis and what adventurers should expect when they face them.
https://viewfromvalehaven.blogspot.com/2011/10/fighting-chance-aspis-by-leanne-faelinn.html
2016 - Why You Should Go to In Bud's Honor
Alex Newbold elegantly expressed how we could remember our lost friend and do good for a charity in his name as he petitioned the community to attend In Bud's Honor, which successfully raised funds for the Take This Foundation.
https://viewfromvalehaven.blogspot.com/2016/10/why-you-should-go.html
2012 - The Grimloch Tribune
Before Syruss was organizing the Neden Kazoo he got his start in publishing while he was still in Grimloch. Take a look at both their lead story about T.H.U.G.S. and the Dear Rohodey advice column.
https://viewfromvalehaven.blogspot.com/2012/10/grimloch-tribune.html
2011 - A Fighting Chance - The Aspis
Faelinn, in advance of the War of Shadows event, created a detailed guide to fighting the Aspis and what adventurers should expect when they face them.
https://viewfromvalehaven.blogspot.com/2011/10/fighting-chance-aspis-by-leanne-faelinn.html
Thursday, October 4, 2018
Legends of Voraniss: Vangrim, the First Werewolf (Part II)
by Renee "Kindrianna" Booke
[Editor's Note: Part I available here]
Several years would pass in this way, but the wolves were good to him and never went too far. They moved quick enough to test his fortitude but refused to leave him behind. Over time it became easier and easier for him to learn how to move as they did; their techniques for hunting and travel becoming like second nature. Together they could take down larger and stronger prey and find enough food for the entire pack to thrive. However, these weren’t the only things that Vangrim learned from the wolves.
They also spent a lot of time roaming around to visit the different factions of the land, checking up on them to see what they needed. If the Elves needed specific herbs it was the wolves that guided their healers. If the Human hunters became lost in the forest it was the wolves that brought them home. Rumors of wolf-related miracles became stories and legends told between villages but the truth was much simpler than all of that. The wolves treated everyone that lived in the woods like they were part of the pack as best they could. The reality had been in front of Vangrim the entire time but he hadn’t realized it until experiencing it for himself. When the wolves spoke of community they meant the forest as a whole, not just those that looked like them. They were above the petty squabbles of Man against Elf or Animal-kin against outsiders. The wolves just knew how to instinctually embrace everyone as brother or sister. It explained why they had been so good to him when he first approached them in need.
When the Alpha called the pack to their favorite clearing for a meeting, Vangrim knew that something was wrong. Rarely did they have these formal gatherings unless some kind of important announcement was to be made. He could feel the sense of dread rise up from his stomach and into his throat as he joined with the others.
“I have called you all here today because change is coming to the forest,” the Alpha said sadly. “War is at our doorstep.”
“War? Why? What has happened?” The wolves asked, obviously distressed.
“There was a dispute over land. The Humans seek to settle it and farm it to aid their growing populations, but the Elves have already laid claim to it. They say they have been here longer than the Humans, that the humans have no right to it,” the Alpha answered. He shook his head slowly from side to side. “Now they are ready to fight over it and the other Animal-kin are ready to kick them both out for fear that this war will shape the destiny of the forest for ages to come.” His gaze came to fall upon Vangrim with great sorrow. “Brother,” he said, “When the others look upon you they do not see the wolf that you have become. They will see only your Human shell. My heart aches, for I see no way this ends well for any of us. When it comes to greed, desire always overrides reason.”
Vangrim understood all too well the complications of the Alpha’s position. It wasn’t his fault that the others didn’t see the same sense of community that the wolves did. “Alpha, I will go and try to bring peace to these woods. You trusted me enough to make me part of your pack once, trust me again. Give me your blessing and I will fight for all that you have taught me.”
The Alpha bowed his head with a forlorn sigh. “You have my blessing as always, Vangrim. But go with the swiftness of the Stag. The hour draws late and time is no ally of ours.”
Vangrim didn’t hesitate; running deeper into the woods as he left the pack at his back. Behind him his brothers cried, craning their necks towards the sky above so that even the celestial bodies of the evening might hear their sorrow.
Vangrim knew where he was heading even though his heart was full of fear. In the deepest reaches of the woods was an object of legend, something that the wolves and others referred to as a Standing Stone. Believed to be Dryads so old that they had petrified and become stationary, the Standing Stones were no laughing matter. Sacred and powerful, the stories claimed that these Stones retained potent magics of the ancient world such as those the Elves attempted to practice with great reverence. To touch a Standing Stone was to open yourself up to the possibility of having your wishes granted or the alternative of complete and utter devastation. Elf, Man, and Animal-kin alike spread the tales to their children in an attempt to make idle interactions forbidden. Old magic was never to be trifled with in such a casual way. Despite this knowledge, and despite the taboo, Vangrim felt he was left with no choice but to find one. He was resolved that their power would allow him to save the forest and the ideology of his pack.
It was when he finally found what he was looking for that the doubt and worry began to overtake him. Lingering at the edge of the grove, his legs began to feel heavy. What if the stone couldn’t help him? What if this was all for nothing and he failed those that had been there for him after everything he had gone through? He might have stayed there forever, locked in an eternal battle with his own anxiety, had the sounds of his brothers not drifted over the winds and to his ears. Hearing their sorrowful calls he found the strength to take one step forward, and then another.
Finally, close enough, he reached out with a trembling hand and placed his palm gently upon the stone. He didn’t feel differently at first, but soon heard a whispering voice inside his head. Surprised, he looked around half expecting to see someone nearby; but there was no one.
“It has been some time since I have had company, wolf brother. Tell me why you have come,” the voice said. It sounded both otherworldly and feminine like a sweet melody out of time.
Unsure if he should speak aloud or merely think his thoughts, Vangrim whispered towards the stone. “I came for your aid, ancient one. War between the denizens of the forest brews. The harmony and sense of community the wolves strive for will be destroyed if that happens. Their very way of life will disappear and be forgotten. I cannot let that happen. If it is true that you have the power to bring stability to this place then I beg you to make these dreams a reality.”
“What concern is it of yours if Elf or Man or Beast rules this forest? You will adapt and survive one way or another. Tell me the truth of the fear that lingers deep within your heart. Speak it aloud so that I may know you,” the voice replied.
Vangrim’s eyes filled with tears and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. “I have seen the darkness the greed of Men can bring first hand. These wolves, this forest that they love, they were good to me. This is my home. I don’t want to be alone again, I don’t want to lose them like I’ve lost everything else.” Making himself vulnerable before the stone Vangrim thought he would have felt like a fool, but instead, there was something incredibly peaceful about letting the words leave his lips.
“What would you give to protect this forest? To make sure that your beloved family is safe from the ravages of war?”
“Anything,” Vangrim answered quickly. “Anything you ask of me, ancient one.”
“And you would swear it upon me under the eyes of the Gods?” The voice was both curious and stern like it wanted to test Vangrim and caution him all at once.
“I swear it. I swear to all the spirits of the forest and the Gods up above that I will give everything I have to save this place from a pointless conflict,” Vangrim said. He bowed his head reverently. “You have my word.”
So be it,” came the voice. “There is no going back from this point on. All have heard your oath.”
The moonlight flared brightly without warning, causing Vangrim to cover his eyes. When he could finally see again, his pack had appeared in the grove. They paced about nervously and looked from Vangrim to the stone wondering what was happening and why they were called.
When the stone spoke again, this time it spoke to all gathered. “Drink of the water that gathers in the paw print of your Alpha here in this sacred place beneath the light of the full moon. When you do so you will find you have the strength and authority to speak for all,” there was a momentary pause as the wolves heeded the words. “But know this, wolf brother, you will be bound to your pack until the end of your days and they to you.”
At last Vangrim pulled his hand from the Standing Stone and moved to stand before his Alpha. They locked eyes and Vangrim took a deep breath as he asked permission with his glance. The Alpha nodded his head and trotted several paces away to leave his paw prints behind him. He was not one to deny the will of the Standing Stone. Not with so much at stake.
The other wolves began to speak in unison as Vangrim got on his hands and knees, lowering himself to the ground. “Pack is strength. Pack is family,” they firmly repeated the mantra; urging him on lest any last minute doubt return to haunt the poor man.
It was when Vangrim’s lips first touched that water his destiny was upon him and he became the first Werewolf of Voraniss. Both Man and Wolf, bound by the old magic of the forest and Elves. He was a part of all of them now and no faction dared defy the will of the Gods nor what they had made. He wasn’t the only one that changed that night either. When his transformation began, so did that of his pack who changed with him. War was averted by Vangrim’s actions and even into current times his descendants defend the forest that made them as some of the greatest warriors Voraniss has to offer.
Upon his eventual death, the forest honored him by making him the representative of the Wolf Totem. Some even say that during the full moon you can hear him still howling along with the other wolves like he never left at all.
They also spent a lot of time roaming around to visit the different factions of the land, checking up on them to see what they needed. If the Elves needed specific herbs it was the wolves that guided their healers. If the Human hunters became lost in the forest it was the wolves that brought them home. Rumors of wolf-related miracles became stories and legends told between villages but the truth was much simpler than all of that. The wolves treated everyone that lived in the woods like they were part of the pack as best they could. The reality had been in front of Vangrim the entire time but he hadn’t realized it until experiencing it for himself. When the wolves spoke of community they meant the forest as a whole, not just those that looked like them. They were above the petty squabbles of Man against Elf or Animal-kin against outsiders. The wolves just knew how to instinctually embrace everyone as brother or sister. It explained why they had been so good to him when he first approached them in need.
When the Alpha called the pack to their favorite clearing for a meeting, Vangrim knew that something was wrong. Rarely did they have these formal gatherings unless some kind of important announcement was to be made. He could feel the sense of dread rise up from his stomach and into his throat as he joined with the others.
“I have called you all here today because change is coming to the forest,” the Alpha said sadly. “War is at our doorstep.”
“War? Why? What has happened?” The wolves asked, obviously distressed.
“There was a dispute over land. The Humans seek to settle it and farm it to aid their growing populations, but the Elves have already laid claim to it. They say they have been here longer than the Humans, that the humans have no right to it,” the Alpha answered. He shook his head slowly from side to side. “Now they are ready to fight over it and the other Animal-kin are ready to kick them both out for fear that this war will shape the destiny of the forest for ages to come.” His gaze came to fall upon Vangrim with great sorrow. “Brother,” he said, “When the others look upon you they do not see the wolf that you have become. They will see only your Human shell. My heart aches, for I see no way this ends well for any of us. When it comes to greed, desire always overrides reason.”
Vangrim understood all too well the complications of the Alpha’s position. It wasn’t his fault that the others didn’t see the same sense of community that the wolves did. “Alpha, I will go and try to bring peace to these woods. You trusted me enough to make me part of your pack once, trust me again. Give me your blessing and I will fight for all that you have taught me.”
The Alpha bowed his head with a forlorn sigh. “You have my blessing as always, Vangrim. But go with the swiftness of the Stag. The hour draws late and time is no ally of ours.”
Vangrim didn’t hesitate; running deeper into the woods as he left the pack at his back. Behind him his brothers cried, craning their necks towards the sky above so that even the celestial bodies of the evening might hear their sorrow.
Vangrim knew where he was heading even though his heart was full of fear. In the deepest reaches of the woods was an object of legend, something that the wolves and others referred to as a Standing Stone. Believed to be Dryads so old that they had petrified and become stationary, the Standing Stones were no laughing matter. Sacred and powerful, the stories claimed that these Stones retained potent magics of the ancient world such as those the Elves attempted to practice with great reverence. To touch a Standing Stone was to open yourself up to the possibility of having your wishes granted or the alternative of complete and utter devastation. Elf, Man, and Animal-kin alike spread the tales to their children in an attempt to make idle interactions forbidden. Old magic was never to be trifled with in such a casual way. Despite this knowledge, and despite the taboo, Vangrim felt he was left with no choice but to find one. He was resolved that their power would allow him to save the forest and the ideology of his pack.
It was when he finally found what he was looking for that the doubt and worry began to overtake him. Lingering at the edge of the grove, his legs began to feel heavy. What if the stone couldn’t help him? What if this was all for nothing and he failed those that had been there for him after everything he had gone through? He might have stayed there forever, locked in an eternal battle with his own anxiety, had the sounds of his brothers not drifted over the winds and to his ears. Hearing their sorrowful calls he found the strength to take one step forward, and then another.
Finally, close enough, he reached out with a trembling hand and placed his palm gently upon the stone. He didn’t feel differently at first, but soon heard a whispering voice inside his head. Surprised, he looked around half expecting to see someone nearby; but there was no one.
“It has been some time since I have had company, wolf brother. Tell me why you have come,” the voice said. It sounded both otherworldly and feminine like a sweet melody out of time.
Unsure if he should speak aloud or merely think his thoughts, Vangrim whispered towards the stone. “I came for your aid, ancient one. War between the denizens of the forest brews. The harmony and sense of community the wolves strive for will be destroyed if that happens. Their very way of life will disappear and be forgotten. I cannot let that happen. If it is true that you have the power to bring stability to this place then I beg you to make these dreams a reality.”
“What concern is it of yours if Elf or Man or Beast rules this forest? You will adapt and survive one way or another. Tell me the truth of the fear that lingers deep within your heart. Speak it aloud so that I may know you,” the voice replied.
Vangrim’s eyes filled with tears and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. “I have seen the darkness the greed of Men can bring first hand. These wolves, this forest that they love, they were good to me. This is my home. I don’t want to be alone again, I don’t want to lose them like I’ve lost everything else.” Making himself vulnerable before the stone Vangrim thought he would have felt like a fool, but instead, there was something incredibly peaceful about letting the words leave his lips.
“What would you give to protect this forest? To make sure that your beloved family is safe from the ravages of war?”
“Anything,” Vangrim answered quickly. “Anything you ask of me, ancient one.”
“And you would swear it upon me under the eyes of the Gods?” The voice was both curious and stern like it wanted to test Vangrim and caution him all at once.
“I swear it. I swear to all the spirits of the forest and the Gods up above that I will give everything I have to save this place from a pointless conflict,” Vangrim said. He bowed his head reverently. “You have my word.”
So be it,” came the voice. “There is no going back from this point on. All have heard your oath.”
The moonlight flared brightly without warning, causing Vangrim to cover his eyes. When he could finally see again, his pack had appeared in the grove. They paced about nervously and looked from Vangrim to the stone wondering what was happening and why they were called.
When the stone spoke again, this time it spoke to all gathered. “Drink of the water that gathers in the paw print of your Alpha here in this sacred place beneath the light of the full moon. When you do so you will find you have the strength and authority to speak for all,” there was a momentary pause as the wolves heeded the words. “But know this, wolf brother, you will be bound to your pack until the end of your days and they to you.”
At last Vangrim pulled his hand from the Standing Stone and moved to stand before his Alpha. They locked eyes and Vangrim took a deep breath as he asked permission with his glance. The Alpha nodded his head and trotted several paces away to leave his paw prints behind him. He was not one to deny the will of the Standing Stone. Not with so much at stake.
The other wolves began to speak in unison as Vangrim got on his hands and knees, lowering himself to the ground. “Pack is strength. Pack is family,” they firmly repeated the mantra; urging him on lest any last minute doubt return to haunt the poor man.
It was when Vangrim’s lips first touched that water his destiny was upon him and he became the first Werewolf of Voraniss. Both Man and Wolf, bound by the old magic of the forest and Elves. He was a part of all of them now and no faction dared defy the will of the Gods nor what they had made. He wasn’t the only one that changed that night either. When his transformation began, so did that of his pack who changed with him. War was averted by Vangrim’s actions and even into current times his descendants defend the forest that made them as some of the greatest warriors Voraniss has to offer.
Upon his eventual death, the forest honored him by making him the representative of the Wolf Totem. Some even say that during the full moon you can hear him still howling along with the other wolves like he never left at all.
Wednesday, October 3, 2018
Tuesday, October 2, 2018
What You Missed - NedenQuesting 3
by Gwenplaine the Jester (Dustin Mack)
Neden. A wretched hive of scum and villainy. Or at least a regular source of zombies and bandits. Whatever. I had been away from the Realms for almost 2 years on official clown business, but I decided to come back to see what was going on in the great land of Neden.
I arrived in Neden a while before everyone else and chatted with the group. They're a funny crew. Except that Kahrma, she's kind of a jerk. As time passed and people arrived, we found ourselves with quite a varied group. Everyone got their armor on and cast their spells and prepared for whatever the lands of Neden had in store.
When everybody was ready to go, Naj told us what was going on. It seems that the guys in Neden had lost a bunch of stuff, hats, weapons, familiars, and more. They were offering some rewards for returning their things, some were weapons and some were the type of magical trinkets commonly found in Neden. We were also told of portals that were randomly appearing with bandits and other things coming out. So our job for the day was to deal with portals and get Nedens stuff back.
Naj was kind enough to show us some of his portal magic. When a portal was identified it would reveal symbols that showed how to deactivate it. Good information to have, as we soon had bandits coming at us through these portals.
Not long after our first portal fight, Dresden told us about a dwarf woman nearby that he wanted to get to know, but he needed some help. Some people gave him suggestions on what to say to her, while others went to the dwarf to tell her how great he is. I was ready to just give them both love potions and call it a day, but all the wingman stuff seemed to be working. Once Dresden was confident enough talking to her, he pulled her hood up to reveal it was really that guy with the beard. Darkin? That might be it. I should’ve used my potions.
We went on fighting bandits, finding some that had things we needed to return to the Neden guys. One of them had apparently stepped in something, he had what looked like a green gooey face stuck on his shoe. We found some bandits with numbers on their faces, 1 to 4. I didn't see how they were defeated because I was dead for a lot of this part. But they were defeated, that's what matters.
I think it was around here that we took a break and headed back to the base to turn in the things we found, and eat some delicious Neden pizza. While we were resting up some people disappeared. Star guy, someone I can't remember, and Toah. I mean Tao. Yeah Tao. It was some yellow guy with a white face. Not as good as my white face, but they can't all be that good. Anyway, it was decided that we needed these people back. Doing this led us to another portal where if we weren't careful we could go mad. Well, that's what we were told, at least. I felt fine. There were some death traps inside. I died again. Not just dead, I got myself impaled on one of the death traps. Meh. We got the people out and all was well. For the time being.
Eventually we made our way to Nedens orchard, where they grow apples for their cider. We needed to collect 15 or so or there would be no cider. Of course, those bandit jerks were also trying to get the apples. There was also some guy with like 200 eyes that could freeze you in place if he looked at you. Oh, and some kind of aggressive monkey. We met up with the suave Señor Fuego. He wanted his dagger, El Fuego. We stopped him and his cronies. It took some time but we managed to get enough apples and some more of Nedens missing stuff.
Bringing the apples back to the base, Priest Z was able to cook them into spell resets. Best tasting spell reset I ever had. By now there wasn't much left to recover, so away we went again.
We fought our way through more bandits. These guys just wouldn't give up. Even when the mighty Neden Man shot a massive fireball through them, they kept on coming. Señor Fuego was back, rambling about something, thinking he can defeat us. Obviously he was wrong, or I wouldn't be here telling the story. So we finished him, closed up the portals, and moved on.
I think this was when Naj tried to teleport us all back to our base. Tried. I don't know where we ended up, but there were people there with green blobs stuck on their head. I hear these weren't good things to have. We made it past the blob heads only to run into a couple guys with real ugly faces and a dragon. Dragons really get everywhere, huh? During the battle some people got head blobs of their own. Something about this caused them to turn on us. But we survived this too.
It turns out the dragon had a head blob too, and that's why it was attacking us. Probably should've offered it tree fiddy, I hear that works on monsters. Somebody knocked his block- I mean blob off and he became docile. I was ready to make it my Undead, but it wasn't dead despite Toto- I mean Tao’s efforts. We gave it some food and it was happy. A happy dragon is better than a mad dragon.
At this point our time in Neden was coming to a close. We met once more at the base, where Lord Syruss had some announcements, including naming Naj as his second in command. Neden had their stuff back, the bandits and other beasties were defeated, and we all survived. Everyone identified their new goodies and we all went our separate ways. It's never dull adventuring in Neden.
Monday, October 1, 2018
Friday, September 28, 2018
What You Missed: Feast of Blackwood IX
By Adrian "Cronin" Cronin
On Friday I arrived at the Voranian encampment. It was already set up and looking like home. If you haven’t paid us a visit before, we welcome you to do so, it’s quite a sight. Having packed the carriages for efficient travel, I realized too late… that my armor was in a carriage that would be arriving late. When I told this to Arch Druid Hygar, he simply smiled and told me not to worry. But something in his smile made me do just that.
Once everyone was ready, we made our way to the tavern to see what adventure was in store for us. We met up with many adventurers from the realms and then entered the tavern for a drink while we waited for things to begin. It was at this point that Hygar took me outside, rubbed dirt all over me and began to chant. When he was finished, again he smiled. When I looked down at my arms and hands I realized my skin was coated in stone. I felt heavy but otherwise quite durable. How strange indeed.
This was done in the nick of time for our attention was called by a resident of New Verai, a familiar face from just a few weeks before. He informed us that we should feel encouraged to to explore and see what adventure we could find. Also that we would be mending tears in reality and would need needles from our previous visit to these lands. Some turned parts of their bodies into needles or so I heard, in order to make up for the lack of resources. All of this confused my delicate sensibilities, but I was eager to crush some evil doers with my rocky skin and so we were off.
We entered a field with a giant bird that was harassing people. Well maybe people were harassing the bird. Either way he was flying too high to be hit with Azurewrath so I turned my attention towards the death eaters and found the action I was looking for.
We fought our way to a beach where we found more death eaters and a strange entity sitting on the ground demanding water. I was told to take the beach so that people could fill their cups, and so that’s what we did. It was here that one of the baddies hooked their weapon in my companion Asher’s axe and tried to pull him into the water… knowing that I had an extra pair of boots back at camp, I bit the arrowhead and rushed into the water to slay the would be drowner. He owes me a beer.
After a lot of fighting we ended up getting stuck, needing one more cup of water to move on but no cup was in sight. So Thoril used his magic, and his wit to shrink the container just enough for us to pass without the final cup. And then it was back to hack and slash on the road.
Once we made our way out completely, we doubled back around. At this point I was feeling a bit tired from the journey, and with so many enemies only affected by magic, I made the decision to hand if Azurewrath to one of my most loyal warriors, Elowen. For the rest of the evening I fought with Florentine axes at my own pace and had a blast clashing in the field. Except the enemies we faced had a special surprise, they exploded and killed those within reach upon death. Which made it quite tricky in strategizing how best to take them down.
Lako informed the group that we could use the exploding enemies to pave a way forward. At this point my memory gets a little fuzzy, because I was essentially just fighting enemy after enemy and trying not to explode. It was glorious and great fun.
Once the battle had concluded, we made our way to an amphitheater where an apparition of a dragon appeared. You’ll have to forgive my ignorance but I was far to mystified by the appearance of a dragon to catch everything that was going on. I know that it was the dragon whose soul the adventurers had saved from the grey lady weeks before. Also that we would need to aid the menders with elemental orbs to stop the Grey Lady from destroying our reality. I took this time to rest and sit in awe of the beasts visage before retiring to a potluck feast prepared by the members of my nation along with stories told by Lady Kindrianna and guests Pilpus and Lako before finally heading to bed.
The next morning, I attended to my usual tradition of walking the grounds to get my blood flowing. I was pleased when my adventures, as the first awake, led me to pancakes at the tavern. I scarfed down a few alongside my fellow Druid, Wynn before going to wake the sleeping wolves for the adventures ahead.
Once awoken and deployed, we headed to the tavern again. Thoril and I recruited a few of our nation members alongside some strangers to enter what was described to us as a “training matrix”. As Thoril has an obsession with “Forbidden Knowledge” I figured I would join him to keep him from blowing everything up… and uh ya know support him.
Inside we faced a few standard enemies who gave us mana which we then used to forge “mana bolts”. I use the term “we” loosely here because I mostly just fought and died in equal standing. This only increased when we fought a small fire drake who shrugged off my steel. The water bolt Thoril forged was able to take him down after a few interactions. Thoril learned how to forge mana bolts. I learned always bring a backpack caster into a portal.
Once this was complete, many adventurers took advantage of the training matrix and learned many different magical patterns which could yield various magical effects. The casters of the realms were seen sharing these patterns and working together which was a wonderful sight.
At this point I broke off from my main group alongside what Voranians felt like accompanying me. We fought more death eaters on the road and made quick work of them. Until the dreaded, let’s call them “Silver Shields” showed up. These were by far the most infuriating enemies I had ever faced. Their shields needed to be hit in certain ways to change the color of the shields to gold in order for them to be affected. Facing them, alongside with regenerating death eaters, became quite the chore. Once we killed them and looted them, they got back up and we started the whole thing over again. May were killed, a Spear was broken, and then Shandar leading an Invictus cohort showed up.
I was all to happy to leave these infuriating Silver Shields to get slapped around by Invictus for a
while, and so we made our way to the tavern to hydrate and recover. And of course… eat pickles.
It was here that things got dark for me. While eating a pickle no less, I was stabbed in the back and things went dark. When I opened my eyes, Azurewrath was leaning on the table next to me and all of my companions were gone. As I tried to move, or even control where my eyes trained I found myself paralyzed. It was then that my body began to move on its own. The smell of sulfur and the sinister laughter inside of my head told me everything I needed to know.
I heard my voice call out to Evie, my magistrate, and one of my dearest friends. Again the demon laughed and taunted me. He told her to grab Azurewrath and asked to borrow her dagger, a true testament to our friendship, she gladly did as he bade. The demon led her off to “find the others”, training the dagger on her as she looked around for the others. But they found us first. I wanted to call out to them, to beg to be slain. I felt my skin burning as the thoughts entered my mind.
Hygar looked upon me, no longer carrying the angel blade, and greeted me cautiously. My body began to sweat, the heat boiling over as the demon angered. Kindrianna asked me if I was ok, the demon spouted lies in hopes of escaping. It was then that Artair used his Magic’s to identify the demon, after which the demon tried to run but it was the last act of desperation for it was very much surrounded by my kin.
My body was slain by my countrymen, which the demon made sure I felt a hundred times over. When I awoke I felt a deep hole where my soul should be. Enough of me remained inside to weep in the arms of my pack. Tears of pain, sadness and of gratitude though part of me felt as if on fire. Lady Kindrianna put half of her soul into mine to give me strength. It bonded us in a way I didn’t know possible. With friends like these…
And so, I handed Azurewrath once more to Elowen for I didn’t feel worthy of the blade, the taste of sulfur still on my lips. I needed to hit something.
Our group reunited, alongside Sir Rillin and the Neden Boys, after being bribed with pickles, tracked the scent of the nightpack master who we had battled weeks before. He was sitting on the beach, with a rather large hulking beast at his side. He insulted us as he usually does but carried a bit more sadness in the exchange than we had expected.
We fought him and his mutt for a few minutes before slaying the pup and disarming the Master. At this point the Night Pack Master And Rillin began arguing over whom the righteous one was and debating the events of the past. With a bit of pressure from the Neden boys we raised the slain wolf and brokered a peace with the Master, one dependent on his cooperation in the battles against the other masters. Many of us question this decision, however for the time it was the only course of action without giving into baser desires of revenge.
Departing that encounter, we ran into yet more deatheaters on the road but kept a steady pace before fighting some trolls that were in front of the fort. This became another drawn out encounter with little reward or purpose. But we gathered ourselves and made for camp to tend to wounds both physical and emotional.
Once my armor and boots were off, we started a fire to warm our bones. But quickly were alerted to the presence of the Grey Lady on the field. And so, without me, all of Voraniss marched to meet the threat. Once returned we ate, relaxed and made tactical decisions for what we knew would be another long night.
It was decided that Hygar, Lady Kindrianna and myself would sit out the night quest. For our injuries and exhaustion were just too much. We instead shared a bit of respite about the fire and placed out faith in our companions and the realms heroes to do what was needed.
After an hour or so of relaxing. An exhausted Tempest burst into the camp, out of breath but full of purpose. Earlier in the day she had a vision and walked through the spirit realm alongside death. She saw our doom and left us all a bit shaken by the proclamation. What she told us now is that her vision was coming true and that our people were in danger.
Hygar and I locked eyes and nodded. He began to transform, growing large claws and a thick hide while I fastened my armor and grabbed the biggest axe I could find. We marched to meet the heroes of the realms in a large mass. All making preparations, with Lako, Janus and Rillin and many others taking charge of the army.
Hygar and I stood ready alongside the rest of our forces and we marched to meet the Grey Lady once more. The dimension she had been banished to earlier provided her with the means to reach her full potential. And as a weaver herself, she broke into our Realm to take vengeance against us for the slight. She stood twenty feet tall, with large weapons that would crush and decimate any who came too close. With her, a small army of cultists, some of whom called upon her power for strength.
The battle we faced was glorious and hard fought. With our smartest working to weaken her defensive barriers which we could not cross. After hours of battle and some of the greatest cooperation the realms has ever seen, we finally struck the Grey Lady down… and crumbled her stoney visage to dust for good measure.
Some broke off to meet with our dragon friend after this. Lako informed me that Aerst, as he is called, confirmed Erida was dead and the pocket dimension we built for her was repaired with her death.
Aerst offered Lako a choice at this point to return to his original form or stay the way he was, this choice had to be made that night. After some contemplation, Lako offered to become his Herald in this Realm and keep the Scales as a mark of that. Aerst accepted.
Many others asked the dragon questions regarding the time assassins, death eaters and nightpack before retiring to well earned rest.
Of course Voraniss held court beneath the night sky as is their tradition, so close to the fall equinox. Helkias, Elowen, Tulkan and yes… Thoril became full members of the pack and villagers of Voraniss. Each having proven themselves loyal to the Circle.
I also adopted Elowen, who will be known as “Elowen Barbaria” from this day forth. I gifted her the blade Azurewrath as it is dear to me and will become an heirloom of our line.
Then we participated in a wild hunt in which Mogar was possessed by a spirit and then hunted by his compatriots. Victory and the Forest Spirits Mask went to none other than Stewhart, the Druid of the Hunt, worthy of the name.
Finally we retired to stories, food and fine company of the pack before laying our heads to rest.
We awoke to our camp in a bustle, everyone getting ready to look their best for the feast. The day would be a day riddled with diplomacy, great food and greater company as we all told tales and celebrated unity and prosperity.
Wizard duels, rituals and a meeting of Realms Druids took place.
Invictus held Gladitorium, their traditional court which many had the opportunity to witness and enjoy.
Highlights of Blackwood Court included the formation the first all female Knighthood “Lunar Aegis”. The formation of the “Artisans Guild”. An alliance between Blackwood and Voraniss. And some beautiful music performed by Pilpus and Evie, brother and sister estranged but now united.
Cronin tasted soup for the first time. It’s food you drink. Brilliant!!!!
-Cronin Barbaria
Commander of the Broken Spears
Druid of the Mountain of Voraniss.
(OOC)
This event was incredibly immersive and very good fun. People roleplayed hard, fought harder and treated each other with more respect and kindness than typically seen at most events. It was a blast and I can’t wait for next years. Cheers.
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