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Game Log / Session 8.0 - The Berkshire Games
« on: April 01, 2006, 05:09:45 PM »
Coming soon to a theatre near you!

Rated R - for Retarded.

Game Log / Session 10 - Are we home yet?!?!
« on: April 01, 2006, 05:08:32 PM »
Session 10.0


Erinalia = Fraz
Garbhan = Mudge
T?riad = Wildfire
Scale = Matt (alt)
Dariooq = Johan (alt)

Written By The Incredibly talented GM - Dray

The small little white Darfellan waif stood in front of the hulking frame of Dariooq. Although she was clearly but a child, the attention and reverence the others in the Village spoke volumes.

?You must go quickly to Scale?s village, they have need of you.? She said to the man knelt before her.

?When?? he asked.

?You must leave immediately.? Orca said calmly, but an uncharacteristic tear fell from her eye. In all of Dariooq?s experiences of his short life, earthquakes, battles with Sahuagin, and what have you, this moment was the most frightening in his life. This girl had never shed a tear in the five years she breathed.

The tribe needed to hear or see no more, the villagers rushed into action, packing foodstuffs and supplies for the adventurers. The adventurers caught off guard, could only watch as food was taken from the very hands and placed into bags and packs.

The adventurers quickly asked the darfellan for anything they thought they might need and were off.

Prepared for the journey, all of you turn towards Dariooq, and with a nod he leads Scale and the rest of you across the makeshift wood bridges and paths of the Grotto. Following him, you work your way up a winding path in the rock to a large cave opening close to the rough ceiling. Pushing aside the leather tarp door, all of you walk into a tall but narrow cavern beyond. Although double the height of your guide, it is just barely wide enough to allow his passage. It appears to be a natural formation and without illumination, also appears to be quite dark beyond the leather covered entrance.

As if reading your thoughts, Dariooq picks up a readied torch on the floor and has it lit quickly. With the flames flickering back in your direction from a light breeze, he walks in, twisting his torso at a slight angle and holding the torch in the lead.

Your group follows him for quite some time, in a cavern that is even in elevation and away from the ocean behind you, further into the mountain. The floor of the path isn?t level in many places and each of you must be careful of your footing. Scale and Dariooq seem to be very familiar with the path, avoiding the small pitfalls quite easily.

They also appear confident on where they are going, and it is easily surmised they have taken this path many times before.

After about a hand of time, Dariooq finally makes his way to an eventual end to the passage. On the wall in front of him, an ancient plated iron door over 10 feet tall and four feet wide, blocks the way. A large iron grate opening, in between rivets of steel, is letting a considerable breeze through.

From a pouch, Dariooq procures a key and with a bit of effort with his webbed hands, unlocks the door. The heavy iron portal swings to the side silently and without effort.

At first, a gush of air bursts through, as if it was waiting entry, but the zephyr quickly disseminates into less of a gust. The torch flickering in the breeze, Dariooq steps forth and onto the landing of a spiral staircase, its passage carved upwards through the very rock.

?It will take some time to get to the top, we must pace ourselves,? he states to Erinalia, knowing she will translate.

Dariooq takes the lead and Scale moves to the back to cover the rear of the group as it begins the ascent up the spiral staircase. Your steps soon echo from both ahead and behind, and the group has to make many stops from the strenuous exertion.

Just when you think your legs will erupt in flames, fueled from the burning soreness, you reach a crack in the outer wall. One that Dariooq slips through, instead of continuing up the staircase. It appears to have been hand dug some time ago and is large enough for Dariooq to walk through without crouching. After only a couple dozen feet you soon realize the path?s purpose. For at the end of the tunnel appears to be an opening to the outside of the mountain you have spent the last several hours in.

The hand dug tunnel empties the group into a small cave that is about 10 feet in diameter and height. At the opposite end is an opening to the outside. Night has long since fallen, as the exit is fairly dark, the torch light masks the ability to detect starlight.

Scale's and Dariooq's preturnatural senses told them something was amiss. Scale throws a Sahuagin leg out the cave entrance and a fooled Blackscale Lizardfolk takes the bait. Quite ingenius, for a lizard.

Three nine-foot tall, heavily-muscled reptilian humanoids erupt from their hiding spots. You recognize this race, for one of their brethren attacked you in the Dwarven Keep. Deep-socketed eyes and flat nasal openings give its face the appearance of a skull. Its scales are black, and a leathery crest running from the top of its head to the middle of its back rises up as it sees you. As they charge and jump from hiding they grab their great clubs with talon-tipped fingers and snarl revealing a row of viscous fangs.

Battle ensued, despite the GM?s fearsome description, the three Blackscale no match for the Barbarians (Scale and Dariooq, alternate characters who have overshadowed whoever those other three main characters are, I forget their names, check the top of this post if care).

With the Blackscale killed, your party has a chance to look around.

You find yourselves halfway up the mountainside. Around you are the tropical plants and trees you are familiar with, but it is less dense on this angled terrain, and also shorter in stature at this high altitude. This allows your group to scan the surrounding terrain in almost every direction. A mile below your position, the dense jungle line is defined as it runs from the southwest to the northeast. You can discern the drop off of the cliff-face beyond it, bordering the ocean. The very beach you stood on this morning lies just below. Behind you, and above the opening of the tunnel you emerged from, is miles and miles of ascending mountainside.

Dariooq starts to walk away on a very slightly defined path that runs northeast and at a slight upward angle to the elevation. The suggestion to break camp is lost by the constant reminder of the missions? urgency. Scale?s people need your help. So tired from the already strenuous day, you trek on.

I think I remember asking the group to roll a constitution check for fatigue, they all succeeded, but took the warning a bit more seriously than I had hoped. See me entry below.

It soon becomes apparent that Dariooq intends to lead the group around the northern circumference of the mountain from west to east. Walking at a slight incline, you walk over roots, around, over and under boulders and through the stunted vegetation. Despite the cooler temperature of the higher altitude, the jungle vegetation flourishes in sporadic quantity.

The exertion of walking starts to make itself apparent with the soreness of muscles throughout your legs.

I think it was about this time that the party reasoned that they couldn?t get there from here without resting. Showing up to a knife fight in an exhausted state never a good idea. So they ruined about three hours of DM work and decided to sleep for 8 hours. Bastards, all of them.

Trek to the Swamp of Sorrow

For about the last half-hand the jungle vegetation has been quickly changed with each step. The familiar tropical vegetation has become less and less frequent, and the coniferous vegetation usually found on mountains tops has become more prevalent. But as you walk on, the shrubs, plants and trees get larger and larger in proportion until they are gigantic to the standard specimens found at home.

It also has been apparent that as you have traversed this side of the mountain that you are on a high plateau. This mountain your traversed was one of many that stood guard between the ocean behind and what appears to be a vast swamp forest. But it is a swamp like none other you have ever seen.

The tallest of pine trees, with trunks that are as wide in diameter as farmhouses, stand before you. Under the huge leaves of these trees, which make up the high canopy, is choppy undergrowth. Hundreds of rivulets of water travel to and from thousands of small pools and puddles amongst these hedgerows, small bushes and rushes. Fallen broken branches, many small enough only to be a hindrance, but some large enough to deter your path are everywhere.

Many long climbing vines hang from the dense canopy above. Many more climb the pine giants in a feeble attempt to reach sunlight.

The thick canopy above blocks all moon and starlight
(well, it was supposed to be night, but they went and slept, so I made it pour on them in revenge, the canopy blocked out the gray (as death) sky instead). You stand at the edge of that shadow, between the world that is the forest swamp and the land of the mountain jungle.

?It has always been known as the Swamp of Sorrow,? Erinalia says in a far-off voice.

The night
(day ? damn them) air is far cooler then you remember it ever being at the outpost. Soon all in the group are rubbing their hands briskly, covering in whatever clothing they have and looking to the torches (HA! To wet for torches ? still had to edit on the fly though ? damn them) for warmth.

Scale gives all warm-blooded adventurers a stick wax that keeps the bugs off[b:c2286c8c61]
(Should have made it attract them.) [/b:c2286c8c61] and Dariooq tells the group they are headed to the Poison Dusk village, allies of the Lizardfolk as they are Lizardfolk themselves.

The night air is frigid, the want for having a torch goes beyond the need for light.
(Had to cut that whole sentence out). Dariooq and Scale expertly lead you through undergrowth and obstacles, on a path that only this hunting pair could follow.

Sounds of the Swamp are in abundance, the drone of the blood-seeking insects is the most apparent. A swarm of them completely surrounds the group as it ventures through the swamp. Yet not one, not a single one, defies the stench radius created by the wax, which seems to reach the edge of your illumination.
(Note to self never mention illumination again in this context.)

Once in awhile the party catches a renegade swathe of the swarm as it briefly encroaches, one arm of the swarm contains hundreds of bugs. Without the wax, every last ounce of blood would be lost to the Swamp.

Anyway, to make a long story short, the group finished my ill-prepared spread sheet, so I attacked them with a ?legendary? (of like 2 seconds) creature I found some obscure pocket of the monster manual III(?) and then they reached the Poison Dusk Village, or actually they didn?t. It wasn?t ready so I simply had them move to Florida.

Man, can I enter logs or what? This was the coolest, I like, should write a novel.

In Character Discussions / Kit's Life
« on: March 19, 2006, 12:33:09 AM »
[OOC: EDITED by Johan, Wildfire and Dray on Monday 03-20-06]

As Ragnor left, Ashe closed and then bolted the door behind him. When he turned, Jarmok's concern was obvious to him.

"I knew when she had complained six hours ago of back pain that she was in trouble. Damn my blood for letting her out the door! I should’ve looked out better for her Jarmok." Ashe said as he made his way back to the bed that Kit lay face down upon. Jarmok stared on quizzically.

"She had stated that it was the result of a horse riding injury, which occurred many days ago." He laid a hand upon Kits' right cheek. "I beg to differ young one." He said kindly to his unconscious patient.

He turned his head to Jarmok, "She is burning up." He nodded towards a bench across the room. "Under that bench is a small covered barrel. Please bring it the bed."

Jarmok sprang into action, concerned for his new friend. Peering under the indicated bench, he did indeed find a small barrel there. It was surprisingly heavy as he pulled it out from under the bench, and by the time he had reached Kit's bedside with it, Ashe had already removed her tunic, and had the undergarment untied.

"Her life is far more important than her modesty. Reach under her thigh there and untie her leather skirt."

Jarmok realized that Ashe was correct. In times when one had to choose between saving a friend’s life and preserving that friend’s modesty, their life was far more important. And Jarmok had precious few real friends. He clumsily felt around where Ashe had indicated and felt a knot of leather. ‘Must be It,’ he thought.

Jarmok tugged at the loose end, but it did not budge. “Not come off.” He said as he reached with his other hand for his hunting knife.

“No, Jarmok.” Ashe stayed the outlander’s hand. “It’s no doubt a sailors knot, she is a clever girl. Pull on the loop instead. It’ll come loose” Ashe said as he had already started to examine her back.

Jarmok did so and the knot untied easily. Ashe turned away from his examination and pushed his four fingers under the top of the leather skirt. He deftly pulled down the skirt off of her slight frame, cupping the material between his palm of his hand and his thumb leaving her lower undergarment on.

With Kit exposed in full view, the two tenders could see that something internal was definitively ravaging her body.

She was still convulsing, all of her muscles seemed to be flexing in tight bands across her body as if cramping up. Worse yet, her spine appeared to be stretching towards her head, the vertebrae actually pulling skin and muscle towards it. A pool of bluish-black blood was forming under her skin in an oblong pattern across her lower back, which slightly quivered with the shaking of the muscles around it.

The heat emanating off of her was almost unnatural.

"Yes, she already has a high fever," Ashe said, as if reading Jarmok’s mind. "In that barrel are cloths soaked with an ointment that I crafted." As Ashe spoke Jarmok began to remove the cover from the barrel, anticipating the herbalist’s instructions. When he had wrested the cover from the barrel, a fine, cool, peppermint mist issued forth.

"That ointment will cool her body down.” Ashe continued. “Cover as much of her body as you can with those cloths." Ashe instructed. He then quickly left the bedside to start working at his bench. Jarmok noted that Ashe was surprisingly spry for a man of his years.

”There’s an energy coming from her.” Ashe spoke, but Jarmok didn’t know if the herbalist was talking to him, or whether he was working things out with himself. “It’s an energy I’ve not experienced for many years.” Jarmok noted the worry in Ashe's voice.

Jarmok began putting the cloths on Kit, starting with her infected area and working up her back. He looked sadly upon her pretty face and wondered if he would ever see a smile upon it again.

“Why sick?” He asked, a bolus of sadness in his voice.

Ashe sighed heavily and replied, "I wish I knew more. It has something to do with the seers though" The look on Ashe's face was of grim understanding and distant reverie.

Character Info / Elladora's Character Survey
« on: March 14, 2006, 12:52:14 PM »
Player (you) Name:

What is the character's full name? Nick-names? :
Elladora Keh?Vale, family members have nicknamed her ?Elly?.

What is the color of the character's hair, eyes, and skin?:
Elladora has long straight black hair, light blue eyes and fair skin, her skin tans very lightly in summer, but will burn easily if over-exposed.

What is the character?s general appearance?:
Elladora Keh?Vale is a comely woman in her early twenties and of above average height at 5?9?. She is also far stronger than the most men. Because of this, she usually covers her athletic, muscular frame in a peasants? attire that leaves nothing but her neck and ankles bare. When in town she wears a simple, long-sleeved white blouse made of cotton and a tan skirt which almost reaches her feet. A long slung, wide-banded leather belt flows with the curves of her waist. The bottoms of leather boots can be seen under the hem of the skirt. The ensemble accentuates her feminine features in an attempt to disguise a warrior?s body.

Her hair is long, straight and jet black, and hangs suspended over the inward curve of her lower back. Her almond shaped, fair skinned face is usually framed by two bangs of hair that cup under her chin. The top layer of her thick flowing hair is bound with a small leather band, over which, another layer is kept loose. (This keeps the hair out of her face and on her back where it belongs.)

Her big eyes are a mesmerizing light blue in color, under a defined brow, and over a symmetrical face giving her an pronounced beauty.  Her eyebrows are plucked and groomed to near invisibility, and underscore a high and proud forehead. Her porcelain smooth face conveys only a pool of calm. She bears no wrinkles from smiling, nor does her face show signs of witness to a frown.

What is the character's age?:

Where was the character born?:
Littleton, a small remote mining and lumber community

Describe the character's family:

Immediate Family:
Father, Richard Keh?Vale, age 41, miner

Elly?s father is a loving, compassionate man who treats all of his children fairly. A tall, but strong thin man, he is a team leader of a mining group (8-man team) within the Littleton Mines. Although he believes the woman?s place is in the home, rearing children, he is incredibly respectful of the gender. He has never taken a hand to either his daughters, or his wife. (Sons though get a hand in discipline when required).

Mother, Amatheena Shard Keh?Vale, age 39, housewife

Elly?s mother is also loving and compassionate. She is very strong-willed within the home, making her opinion known to her husband. She does however give him his due respect, keeping her tongue while within the public eye. She fully understands her second-class status within the male dominated society, even though she doesn?t agree with it. Each day she assists Richard in instilling a respect (for women) within her sons, and a sense of self-worth within her daughters. She tends the family farm and the rearing of children as a labor of love.

Brother, Elan Keh?Vale, age 23, miner

Elly?s eldest brother, is the warm heart in the family, he is quick with a quip, a smile or a hug, sometimes all three.

Twin Brother, Ryan Keh?Vale, age 21, miner

Ryan is Elly?s twin brother, and loves her very much. The two were inseparable throughout their younger childhood years.

Brother, Steph Keh?Vale, age 17, lumberer

Steph is the spitting image of his namesake uncle, a man who is married to his mother?s sister, so much so it is a running gag within the family. He is a quite young man who is found happy and whistling only when he is working with wood.

Sister, Mia Keh?Vale, age 15 barmaid

Mia is Elly?s little sister. She is petite and slight. Where Elly got her looks from her mother and her physical frame from her father, Mia is an almost duplicate of her mom. This comely young woman, with her short, chin-length black hair and big green eyes, works at the town?s only tavern.

Brother, Joseph Keh?Vale, age 12 child & family farmhand

Joseph is Elly?s baby brother, but despite his age is already passing Mia in height. He is also almost as strong as his older brothers and serves his mother well on the family farm.

Has the character begun his/her own family?:
She has not, but she does wish her own some day, along with a kind husband who will adore the herd of children she will provide for him.

What was the worst moment of the characters life?
The worst was when her Uncle Henry was killed before her eyes.

      *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Tears streaked down her face as the bandits rough calloused hand bore down on her mouth. A metal ring he wore pressed hard on the right corner of her upper lip. She was beginning to choke on the pain as she could feel the lip starting to tear. Using the same arm that held her mouth shut, he curled her head and right shoulder at an odd angle against his chest. His left arm was wrapped around her stomach, which held her body tight against the rest of his front. Elly, at twelve years old, was taller than her peers. Despite this, the monstrous brute held her aloft.  Her feet dangling six inches off the ground. She had no leverage and had stopped kicking since it only made the back of her legs hurt when they banged into his metal armor. If it were not for the scene playing out in front of her, his enlarged anatomy pressed against her thigh, would have been the most frightening part of the attack.

Her uncle was lying on the ground, unconscious, but Warson continued to kick him repeatedly. Each blow from Warson?s metal boot was met with less and less of a response from his almost prone victim. Although her uncle was a tall and strong man from years of working on the farm, he couldn?t fend off the four men. They had quickly beaten him to the ground. Now, three of them watched as Warson seemed bent on killing him.

But as Elly watched in horror, she had one feint hope. The three men behind Warson were becoming worried. They watched the scene with growing alarm, and began to look at one another. Elly prayed that they would become fearful enough of Mageil actually killing her uncle, and intervene before it was too late.

Her vision blurred with the gushing tears. Her lip tore further and she felt her warm blood leak under her attackers hand and spread over her chin. Only a hand ago she was bored from the long ride back from BiggerTown, now her life and the life of her uncle were in great peril.

Warson reached down, pulled up his pant leg and drew a dagger from inside his boot.

Dracos, a young man between the two other men, screamed in a shrill, ?No Warson! We can?t kill him!?

Warson kneeled down next to her Uncle?s prone form, Dracos and his two thugs beside him froze. Elly screamed in her mind, ?Cowards!? as he raised the knife high over his head. Grasping the dagger with both hands, Warson pointed it down toward his victim, and for a moment that lasted an eternity, was posed in a ceremonial sacrifice.

Elladora went limp in her attacker?s grasp as all her strength was lost to the horror of what was to happen, for there was no mistaking it now. Warson was evil, and was bent on murder.

With a great thrust Warson bore the weapon into her Uncle?s chest.

Henrick Keh?Vale let out a gurgled gasp of utter shock as he awakened for this final violation. His legs and arms curled towards the fatal wound in his chest, his body almost achieving a fetal position. An attempt at breath belayed the fact that he was drowning in his own blood.

The thug who held Elly had lost all the strength in his grip. She broke free and ran to her uncle. As she reached him his body jerked and his back flexed in an arch, all of his body parts now stretching as if to escape the pain occurring at its center.

Turning to his side, a large volume of blood expelled from his lungs, and he became suddenly still.

?Uncle Henry!? Elly screamed, her knees slamming to the ground as she slid near him. She couldn?t bear to touch him, the fear of what was occurring to him keeping her at a distance.

A large volume of blood expelled from her uncle and spilled over the sides of his face, before it could even choke him, his entire body went rigid.

?UNCLE!? she screamed again, the sound drowning out the sound of the men?s heavy footfalls as they fleed.

   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   

How does the character perceive government? Those who are opposed to the government?:
Elladora believes that government should be composed of citizens whose law-abiding nature is part of their very being. They should be established by a local church hierarchy that can oversee their activities. Religion and State should be therefore combined into one entity. In her mind, it is the only way to avoid corruption. Due to her own experience with the Mayor of her own hometown (See Entry below), she has no faith in a government not sanctioned by an ethical and moral church.

Those who oppose government today may have a legitimate and justifiable reason to do so. However order must be maintained and laws abided, it is the men who write and enforce those laws who need to be replaced in a civil manner. Anyone who would oppose such a government would be held in suspicion by Elladora.

               *   *   *
?Court of Littleton is again in session this afternoon of the 3rd day of 6th month of the year,? announced Mayor Harken.

The court of the Littleton Town Hall was the largest room in an otherwise small building at the center of the small mining community.

It was known to all in town that Mayor Harken had no patience for long drawn out trials. So when she entered this room for the first time four days ago, she was little surprised at the minimal accommodations, lack of official court symbols and furnishings for anyone but the mayor himself. In Biggertown, the court there was far more intimidating as it was made of marble, with huge columns, flags of state and important looking men with white wigs walking all about.

The Mayor sat behind the middle of a simple rectangular table, facing Elly who stood before him. It was the simplest piece of furniture, combined pine wood planks from the forest nearby with simple square pine legs. It had been useless during the entire four day trial, until today. The one item it bore now was the single parchment open before him. The parchment that summarized the charges against her, the court?s ruling, and the sentence. The words that contained her ultimate fate were rolled up near him, out of her view, only two feet away.

Dracos Harken and six Littleton guards stood behind the Mayor. As they also lacked chairs and were not allowed to sit on the floor, they had fidgeted and looked uncomfortable for the duration of the trial.

Elly meanwhile had stared at Dracos often, burning her gaze into his soul.

He wouldn?t meet her eyes. She knew the coward felt guilty for framing her. Instead of facing the truth and bearing consequence to his actions, which, as a male and a politician?s son would have been minimal, he would rather her take a much larger fall.

Now, the consequences of his lies would be read, and he would bear the guilt for the rest of his days. Elly pitied the pathetic boy. More so, she also felt anxious for the people of Littleton, for all of Dracos lies would have not held disguise had it not been for his father?s deception. And if Mayor Harken would send an innocent 12 year-old girl to her death to protect his own demented son, then this town was in dire straits.

Elly, for her part, had stood in front of Mayor Harken during the sessions wearing the traveling peasant dress she had arrived in. The day, almost a week ago now, when she came to the town Hall, seeking justice for her uncle?s death.

She had no idea of the depth of Dracos cowardice, or his father?s corruption, at least, not until it was too late. She kept berating herself for coming to the Town Hall, she should have realized that Dracos would have turned all of the facts around. It wasn?t until that first lonely night in the Town Hall prison cell that the surprise of what was happening fully found purchase within her mind. Dracos had beaten her home, and had developed a story that not only exonerated him, but placed many false accusations towards her. For a witless boy, the framework of his argument was quite clever. Elly had a sinking feeling that his father was the mind behind the deception, which made her gut turn inside out. She so feared for her family and what might happen to them after she was gone. She worried to the point of tears that justice would not be served for her murdered Uncle.

As Elly stood in the dusty hardwood floor, holding the heavy chains attached to the manacles around her wrists, she continued to glare at Dracos.

Her family and friends had been allowed to gather for the reading of the verdict. Elly felt the most anguish for her father, who would lose his eldest daughter within days of losing a brother. She hoped her family could console him. Her brothers Elan and Ryan stood by him, as did the father of her arranged fianc?e, Kenneth Granger. The thought of not having a family of her own someday brought her to tears in her cell each night. She would miss Kenneth and the talks they had, and she would never meet the son she was promised too. She had said a prayer, only the previous night, for good will towards David Granger. As he finished his schooling, she prayed the distance would shelter him from the shame brought to his family by her incarceration.

Two of her father?s mining team, Hal and Frick, also stood bye. They had been good friends and treated her like a daughter of their own. She would miss their visits to the small home they had on the outskirts of town. The laughter that the two men would share with her, her family and especially her hard working father, while at the dinner table many a night.

There were many other men in attendance, most she recognized at the very least by face and profession. The shop keeper and the butcher to name a few, most she had dealings with her as she visited them on the behalf of her family?s farm.

All had come to stand by her, and to be in audience to her fate, one that could only be surmised as dire. She could only pray that this very audience would not rise in defiance against the Mayor, which would endanger them all. She would sooner fall on a knife then have anyone else in her family or the town harmed.

?Elladora Keh?Vale?, spoke the Mayor, ?the court has heard the evidence and will now deliver its verdict. You will abide by this ruling and sentencing upon a guilty ruling, or you and your family will suffer further penalty as allowed by Littleton laws. Do you understand?? the Mayor asked in the same tone he had during the entire proceeding of the past four days. One of confident arrogance, Elly thought of him as a man who considered him untouchable. ?All men die Mayor Harken? Elly thought, ?and all men face judgment at death?.

Breaking herself from her thoughts, Elly simply nodded yes at the Mayors? question. She had decided the previous night she would not cry. She would continue to hold her head high knowing she was innocent of all charges and that the villains, in the very court room, knew who they were.

?Yes or no would suffice!? the Mayor demanded. Elly and everyone else already tense as it was, jumped with a start.

Elly took a small gulp, and held back her tears. ?Yes Mayor Harken? she managed without her voice breaking.

He unrolled the parchment, but did not look down upon it, and proceeded to speak from memory each charge and verdict with slow malice.

[i:7487c4c11b]?For the charge of bearing false witness to the death of a citizen of Littleton?we find you, guilty.?[/i:7487c4c11b]

The very first charge stung Elly the most. The fact that no-one could find her Uncle?s body when she lead them back to the scene had left her in utter despair.

[i:7487c4c11b] ?For the charge of slandering the reputation of a government official and his family?we find you, guilty.? [/i:7487c4c11b]

She should never have surrendered her good judgment to her emotions. The day of her arrest had not been one she was proud of. Letting all of those angry words loose had just made her situation worse.

[i:7487c4c11b] ?For the charge of harassment of a government official and his family?we find you, guilty.? [/i:7487c4c11b]

This is where the Mayors? tangled distortion of actual events was weaved in a fashion so diabolical and clevor, that Elly almost doubted her own innocence. At one point in the trial she even had to check herself mentally, finding it difficult to keep the real memories segregated from the false stories told by the Mayors? false witnesses.

With all three charges read and final, the sighs of anguish and sounds of suppressed anger came to Elly from behind her. The men cursed under their breath, fidgeted their feet in restlessness, and some even cracking their knuckles in warning. The consequences of interference with Littleton Law, and the Mayors? soldiers, would have been dire on a massive scale. Elly held her breath and prayed, waiting for an outburst.

A small part of her, a part she didn?t want to admit existed, wanted it. Elly did not want to die. But thankfully, her logical mind thought, none had come.

Elly kept her eyes level with the Mayor, she would not give him the satisfaction of  any sign of remorse. She would here the sentence to come while glaring at him and his demented pathetic son. Burning the image of her into their guilt ridden minds, an image for hopefully the remainder of their years.

?However, the people of Littleton and this court are not without mercy.? Mayor said with a slight smile.

The tense room became still and as quiet as death. This statement surprised everyone in this room. Elly again found herself catching her breath. All of them, including Elly, thought she was headed for the noose by sunfall. ?It must be a trick?, she thought. ?He?s going to tell me that he is going to delay the execution for a day or something.?

?Elladora Keh?Vale. Your sentence shall be as follows,? the Mayor paused.

Elly?s heart dropped with sudden abandon, ?Mercy would not truly fall upon me, for you are truly evil Mayor, I see the enjoyment of this in your eyes.?

The Mayor continued. ?You will be sent to the Monastery of Twilight, where you will live the rest of your days as a servant. The moment you step into its halls you shall be an exile of Littleton, divorced from your family and your arranged marriage with David Granger dissolved. You will also be ex-communicated from the church and shall no longer be part of this community.?

Elly couldn?t believe what she was hearing. The moment was a bittersweet. She was thrilled to have the stay of execution, but there was nothing more important to her then her family, friends and the church. After a moment of true despair, she reigned in the emotion from her face. For a small smile had reached the Mayor, and she would allow him no more satisfaction.

She kept her face hard. ?This is a misstep you evil man. I do not know why you keep me alive. Perhaps you are truly afraid of an uprising from the townsfolk. Either way, you were wrong to allow me my life. I will find the justice I seek.? Elly thought and quickly had to look away from the Mayor, for she must have been staring at him too angrily. His smile had been quickly replaced with a glare of anger.

?Soldiers have been assembled to escort you to the monastery immediately. If this mercy is not acceptable to you, they can bring you to the noose!? the Mayor almost shouted.

Her father spoke in a quiet venomous tone. ?My daughter is most appreciative of your mercy, but there isn?t enough daylight left for the journey!?? Elly cringed at the question, fearing the unstated danger, Dargen Woods.

Mayor Harken stared at him, temporarily disarmed from his previous anger. ?Then she will have to camp overnight in the Woods with the soldiers won?t she??

Before any more remarks could be made, he motioned behind him to the nervous soldiers. Appearing to be eager to act, in lieu of watching the townfolk seethe, they quickly made their way around the table. Grabbing Elly?s chains, they parted the crowd and escorted her out the door. Outside, six more foot soldiers awaited with the minimal supplies they needed.

All of the men quickly followed. When Richard, her father, was clear of the court room he quickly gathered her older brother. ?Run ahead to the farm, as fast as the wind, tell your mother to prepare supplies for me,? he paused mid-sentence and looked up at Mr. Granger, who simply nodded at him, ??Mr. Granger, Jake and Targ for an overnight journey.?

Mayor Harken, who had just come outside had overheard, as her brother sprinted away to the North. He walked and stopped right behind her father.

?And where do you think your going Richard?? he said condescendingly.

Elly watched as her father turned towards the Mayor, she had never seen him in such control over his anger. For the daughter knew her father?s anger well, and this was the strongest she ever sensed it within him. This situation was very different from when she experienced it in the past. This wasn?t simply a matter of her and her brother getting caught misbehaving. This was anger towards something he could not control or punish, and her father had an entire family to protect, not just her. For all the anger he had, he was not slave to it. At that moment she had never been so proud of her father.

With controlled effort he spoke calmly to the Mayor. ?As it is an ?overnight? journey, I though it best if I came along with some friends, as I wouldn?t want the soldiers ?harmed? carrying out sentencing for my daughter.?

?That will not be necessary Richard, my men are more than capable of protecting one young woman,? the Mayor said, his tone hinting of an order.

?Yes, I am sure twelve of your men are quite capable of handling a young girl, but I would sleep better the remainder of my days seeing her safely to the monastery,? as her father spoke, he clenched one fist. The shorter heavier politician would be no match for the tall miner and his twelve men knew this. Each soldier had placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. The tension was thick as the two men squared off on one another.

Kenneth Granger broke the moment. ?Mayor Harken, your sentence was as follows, Elly will be sent to the monk Monastery of Twilight, where you will live the rest of your days as a servant. The moment you step into its halls you shall be an exile of Littleton. Elly is therefore allowed to see her family until she is in the monastery.?

?Furthermore, as no-one wants any more harm to come to this family which has suffered so much tragedy, it would be best for as large as escort as possible through Dargen Woods. Wouldn?t you agree Mayor?? Kenneth?s tone was also threatening, the moment of what violence could come was lost on no one. Even the young Elly.
Mayor Harken shot him a furious glare.

Kenneth Granger held his ground, but raised his hand in a motion for calm. ?The citizens are following the laws of Littleton, we will see to it that justice is done, but we should be allowed to ensure that no further ? problems, arise while the sentence is carried out.?

Mayor Harken stood there angry, but slightly disarmed. His twelve armed soldiers were so nervous that some of them had their blades half drawn.

?So be it Mr. Granger, but the soldier of Littleton shall make no effort for your own safety. They are only duty is to see that justice is carried out.?

?And so it shall, Mayor Harken,? said Kenneth Granger with a smirk.

      *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *
Has the character ever done anything else (besides adventuring) for a living?:
Before Elly?s exile from Littleton, she served as a farmhand for her mother. While in exile as punishment to the crime, she farmed the land and prepared quite a few meals for the ten men and three women living at the monastery.

When or how was the character educated?:
She learned to read and write from her mother. Later at the monastery, after her calling as ?First Priest of Saint Ethan Talonfall? (See Entries below), the entire enclave of monks shared in aggressively providing her an education. At twelve she started with advanced forms Literature and by eighteen she had deep understanding of Philosophy, History, Law, Science, Religon, Political Science and other Academics. Only when she reached 21, after nine years of rigorous study, was she was recognized as a True Cleric.

Where did this character attain her religious belief structure?
Elladora is her religion. She is the living representation of the spheres she represents, the Domains of Protection and Law.
               *   *   *
Upon reaching the archway to his Master?s study, Brother Zhunn quietly slipped into the room?s candlelight.

Beyond the lone candle posted at the edge of his desk, the Master did not look up from the new book of parchment. Scribing in long and patient strokes, Zhunn knew not to interrupt him in mid-sentence. The tomb, a man?s width and if closed with the hard leather cover, thick as a man?s forearm, spread open under the Master. As it was tilted slightly away from Zhunn, the words he scribed, were hidden from his view. A glass inkwell full to the rim stood ready next to the candle?s simple brass dish. Zhunn had wondered what project the Master started anew, for a new tomb and fresh ink indicated an original subject of noted interest to the Master. Judging by the large size of the tomb, this subject would capture the Master?s interest for some time.

Brother Zhunn waited patiently to be addressed by the Master, as was customary. The Master stroked the parchment with his favorite quill, the soft scrape the only sound during the quiet early evening.

The unfinished pine desk, more akin to a podium, stood at the center of the small circular study. Jacob, perched on the matching chair behind, ?looking like a vulture crouched over dieing  prey,? thought Zhunn. The far too high chair forcing Jacob to arch over the small desk, an awkward position, but one Zhunn always found his Master in. He never questioned or commented on the uncomfortable position, ?too each his own,? was his thought.

Waiting for recognition, Zhunn scanned the walls which were masked by tombs, rolls and stacks of parchment, neatly piled from floor to ceiling. He always wondered the secrets they may contain, what history, knowledge and thoughts brought from the meditative state of the Master. All scribed by this one Monk, it would be passed on into the Library, and therefore to the other Monks as the Master deemed it necessary.

There were only a few elements of architecture in the study not hidden from view. The stacks almost made it to the cone shaped roof above, the oak trellises almost lost in the shadow. The area before the pine door behind Jacob was clear, for it lead to Master Jacob?s common room, his bedroom being on a floor above. And the opening Brother Zhunn stood within, where he often wondered if someday he would encounter a wall of parchment. He almost expected the Master to close himself in before passing on the information to the Library. Zhunn didn?t think him reluctant, just too preoccupied to be bothered.

Twilight was stealing the remaining light of the day from the windows behind him in the main hall. Had he not been so shocked by Elladora?s blatant lack of respect for authority, he would have waited for the morn to resolve the matter.

As he thought upon her transgression for many minutes, Zhunn finally lost his resolve to wait. ?Master Jacob, disciplinary action is required for her,? he whispered from the archway.

?I take it you speak of servant Elladora?? Jacob said quietly, not startled or missing the beat of heart after Zhunn?s question.

?Yes, my Master.? he said. His anger created by the vision of the girl in the Archive, robbed him of carefully planned words of his report. After a moment, he let out a sigh of frustration and simply stated the matter, ?She now sits in the Archive surrounded in books.?

He paused a moment, waiting for a recognition of shock from his master?s eyes. He was disappointed as they instead continued the path of the follower to the scribing hand.

?Books that she is reading Master!? he blurted, not afraid to show his master his malcontent.

?What angers you more my Brother, that she is disobeying your orders, or the fact that she can read?? Jacob said plainly, still not looking up.

?You knew she could read Master? But?,? he now stammered, slightly taken aback. He had thought that the Master would have been at least angry enough to stop what he was doing. ??we are not to speak with her on such mundane issues, she is but a criminal servant of the?..? he was interrupted by Master Jacobs stare. A stare that he had expected just a moment ago for Elladora?s announced transgression. Instead had been directed at Zhunn?s own. He quickly realized he had spoken out of turn.

Jacob hadn?t shifted back in the chair, his stare from over the books? rim spoke volumes.
Although Jacob and he were both of late middle-age, the Masters? talents, skills and experience were far greater. Therefore, the Masters responsibilities, were greater still.

After the moment of warning, Jacob lowered his eyes back to his work. Brother Zhunn saw his eyes soften and with the same smooth tone in his voice he spoke. ?I am not under the same bylaws and directives as the entire enclave of monks Brother Zhunn. You know this.?

He felt heat rise to his cheeks, yet something inside him wouldn?t let go of the frustration. Before he could report further though, Master Jacob continued, ?I needed to ascertain our new servants? abilities, did I not??

He only gave a short nod in reply, knowing that Master Jacob would sense it despite his return to his scribing. He held his tongue, now not sure of how this young girl was appraised by the Master.
?All other women placed here have been volunteers in the last season of their lives. Set in their ways and manners of routine daily life, they were confident in the limited abilities known, and how to use those abilities for the caretaking of this monastery. They have been content to live the remainder of their days here in relative peace.? He paused a moment while returning the pen to the inkwell for refreshment.

?Elladora has been accused of a crime and is serving time here unwillingly. At a mere thirteen seasons, she has only the basics of skills. Her heart has not focused her mind. She therefore has no idea what she wants from life.? As Jacob spoke he continued to scribe, his mind devoted to both tasks.

?This servant girl is also the youngest to place foot in this monastery in centuries. I need to develop any innate talent and put it to good use. She shall then be far more compliant in her lifelong service here. I also wish her to be focused on the monastery, and not the monastery focused on her. By charging you with directing her in the Archive, I keep her secluded from the monks until her heart finds that focus.?

Master Jacob didn?t look up, but after a pause gave a sly smile and continued. ?If the girl is content to assist this House while staying out of the way,? he said as he paused and looked up, ?and out of view, then all the better, the monks will continue to honor their vow.?

Master Jacob returned his eyes to his work.

The openly stated doubt of the monks? ability to maintain their vow of chastity summoned the heat in his face to flare to new life. He felt flustered and upon seeing Master Jacob smile, ashamed that the Master may even think him capable of such a transgression.

But Zhunn quickly reprimanded himself, realizing that once again he was a student to the Master. Standing in the archway, he took a moment of introspection. Had the Master thought him wanting to join with the girl he would have been exiled from the Monastary, not charged with directing her tasks. No. Her beauty represented an unstable element within the balanced life in the House and Master Jacob had recognized this. Meanwhile, he himself had simply attempted to ignore the issue. It made him uncomfortable to encounter such emotions after many long years dedicated to his studies and to that vow in question. Therefore guided by the ignorance of an unformed opinion, he now realized that its ignorance of the indecision was guiding his emotions down the wrong path. Instead of thinking upon a way to deal with Elladora living in the House, he simply allowed himself to be angry by it.

His Master had sensed this in him before he himself had recognized it.

Ashamed that he hadn?t proceeded properly, he tried to change the subject. ?Yes, but Master, if the Mayor of Littleton realizes you have spoken with the young girl in such a manner then?.? he was once again interrupted by a stare from Jacob. The Masters? stare was far more impatient this time, and he flinched. He quickly had made yet another breach in etiquette.

?Remember your station Brother Zhunn, for my station has its own Keeper.? Jacob stated in a whispered but threatening tone.

?My apology, Master Jacob, for I do not doubt your intentions. I only wish to express concern for what the mayor in Littleton would do with any sort of perceived transgression.? he said nervously. He was desperate to hold his ground in regards to the argument, not wanting to appear to his Master a slave to his emotions.

?Let me handle the corrupt man in Littleton.? Master Jacob said in more an off-hand manner then Zhunn cared for. Jacob dipped his pen in the ink, and continued to scribe. ?What is the issue with our new servant Brother?? Jacob continued, once again in calm manner.

Zhunn was relieved to return to the subject that brought him to his Master?s study. ?She has surrounded herself in a ring of books in the center of the library. She is no longer cleaning and organizing, but reading.? he announced, trying to keep his voice even and tolerant.

Master Jacob continued to scribe. ?That is simply not acceptable. The Library was in complete chaos a week ago, how does it stand now??

?Well, admittedly it appears to be farther along then I would have expected.? he said, relieved that at least the Master found her actions displeasing as he did. ?But that doesn?t give her an excuse to avoid work.?

Master Jacob placed his pen in a vial of solution, sat up and leaned back in his chair with his hands folded in his lap. ?All too true Brother Zhunn. Shall we go speak with her??

?We, my Master?? he became nervous again, as Jacob calmly stood, smoothed his robes and walked past him.   

               *   *   *

The small entrance to the archive was in such a secluded dark spot, it could easily be missed by one not familiar with the monastery. A year ago, Master Jacob had asked that the candles no longer be lit in the small passage. With the new library finally complete in its construction, it was no longer necessary to enter the old one on a day to day basis. Since then, it had been known as the Archive, and as it had few visitors, was always dark.

So when Master Jacob turned the corner of the main hallway, with Brother Zhunn in tow, he was startled at the white light emanating from the Archive?s small passage entry.

He turned to look at Zhunn, who with a look, conveyed he had no foreknowledge of this light. Jacob hurried his step.

Beyond the corridor entry he found two of the youngest amongst the monks standing at the threshold of the open archive door. The archive being to his left, Master Jacob could only wonder what the two beheld. The light, which is what Master Jacob thought they may be staring into, washed over them and along the corridor behind. The old artwork on the walls, the faded carpet, and the two Brothers were all bathed in the pure white, pulsating light. The brothers expressions were of shocked bewilderment.

The white light was not natural and his heart skipped a beat, ?an event of importance was happening in the Archive? Master Jacob surmised. ?This would be a night like no other.?  The two younger Brothers before him did not even turn to acknowledge his arrival, they simply stared ahead and through the doorway. There mouths were agape at some spectacle Jacob was soon to discover.

As Master Jacob reached the doorway he put a cautionary hand out and caught Brother Zhunn too close behind him. Always placing patience and caution at the forefront he gently pushed Zhunn back before he too looked through the doorway.

Before looking through, he asked the two younger monks, ?What is it that you stare at Brothers??, not knowing if they would respond.

Brother Richard blinked and looked at Master Jacob as if for the first time. After a moment he regained his composure. ?Master Jacob.? He said, blinking at him. ?Sorcery. This girl has brought sorcery into our monastery!? he stated with some alarm.

?She?s a witch,? said the other matter-of-factly, not averting his eyes from the room.

?A witch you say?? asked Master Jacob, no longer concerned that the Brothers were under a spell of enchantment. Sorcery he had read about in his study, the art of arcane magic was a dieing one, he hardly believed the young girl capable. He turned into the doorway and looked within, now ready to study the matter for himself.

In all his life he had never seen an event that would compare.

In the center of the sitting area of the large room was the young Elladora, sitting on the hardwood floor. The tables and chairs of the reading area had been taken away and placed in the new Library a year ago. So it appeared she had been stacking books in organized columns and rows against the wall. A task that looked to be complete, as there was not a shred of parchment anywhere in the remainder of the room. All the floor to ceiling height shelves of the back of the room were now empty.

But it was not the organized Archive that caught immediate attention. It was what was before the young girl. She had surrounded herself in a dozen or so books, many of them open to various chapters, as if she had been researching a some subject of interest. She sat, almost facing them, her knees folded beneath her. The bottom of her white peasant dress quite filthy from a long days work in the dusty Archive. She stared at a large tomb open in front of her. A symbol on the open page glowing a brilliant white light!
Elladora didn?t move, she simply stared transfixed into the light.

?Stay here, all of you,? ordered Master Jacob.

He entered the Archive. It did not appear to him that Elladora was harmed in any way, but her complete attention was taken by the glowing symbol. The illumination projecting so strongly from the center of the symbol, the cone of light blurred the symbols outline. His first thought was that she was terrified at what was obviously magic, but as he entered the room, he wasn?t so sure, his first impression jaded by her cool demeanor.

As he walked around her to her left, still unnoticed, he looked more closely at the tomb. He recognized it, as he did all written material in the monastery. It was the Journal of Lord and Saint Ethan Brigonalius Talonfall who was quite the powerful individual in a time long past. The Lord, one of the last Paladins, brought justice to a Kingdom of Men where there was none. He also married well. Liianna, his queen, was a woman who had become a White Robed Wizard through sheer will. The profession was more commonplace back then, but regretfully the respect for women was the same. A peasant girl, Liianna, had trained herself in the trivial cantrips that most wizards of the day were proud of. She then went on and passed her male peers, studying and researching her art across the lands. Finding power where most wizards dared not go, as they were complacent with their lesser skills. St. Talonfall met her during his rise to power in the kingdom. When he was asked to become the Lord and Protector of the Land by the governing council, he proposed to her. Although they bore no children, they and their kingdom were prosperous for many decades. The journal ended incomplete however, with a simple mundane entry giving no indication of foul play. Master Jacob sought a second volume, but never found one. He left the journal in the archive as an interesting unfinished anomaly.

?More of an anomaly then I thought,? Jacob mused as he squinted at the open page. Now that he had made a three-quarter circle around Elladora and her circle of books, he was able to discern the glowing symbols? outline. It was the shape of an eagle.

Elladora still had not moved, so Master Jacob sat next to her, wondering upon what his next move.

He watched her and with caution gave himself a moment to marvel at her character and charisma. Ever since the day she had been brought forth to him with chains on her wrists, surrounded by the soldiers of Littleton, he had been inspired by her courage. Although only twelve at the time, she held her head high and showed no fear. Her charisma matched the strength of her character, an unusual combination for a young woman of this day and age.

As he sat bye her, leaning his face into her field of vision, he could almost here the inward gasps of shock from the Brothers watching in the passage. Whether they were shocked to see him close to the sorcery, or, close to the girl he was unsure. Nor did it matter for he truly did not concern himself with the evaluations of his actions by those lesser than him.

She still did not flinch. He leaned back in a sitting position and reached out his hand, waving it in front of her face, screening the book.

She neither flinched or blinked.

He looked up at the waiting Brothers. The three of them were huddled together in the entryway, trying to not miss any moment of this highly unusual event.

He looked back at Elladora. The white porcelain skin of her hands, face and feet were smudged with streaked dust and dirt. Her long black hair was tangled and messy behind her, abused from the long days work. The urge to brush his fingers through her hair, to make it flow straight again, was a difficult one for him to disobey.

He sat for many moments. Finally, he asked, ?Elladora? Are you alright servant??

She continued to stare, unblinking at the symbol. Jacob knew his next action would cause some sort of change, what that change would be was unknown. But the girl was spellbound and he had to break her free.

Jacob closed the book.

He watched her gaze as he did so. For the smallest fraction of a moment, he observed a dim white flash in her eyes, then she blinked and looked up at him.

?Master Jacob, good evening. I am very sorry to have delayed my task, I will get back to work,? she said as she made ready to stand.

?At ease servant.? Master Jacob ordered in a calm voice. ?What is it that just transpired here with this book??

Elladora reached down and caressed the journal?s leather cover. She watched the end of her fingers trace the symbol of the eagle in flight, drawn on its cover.

She looked up to Jacob and looked into his eyes with a penetrating gaze, one that Jacob had not expected. He instantly knew that this event had changed her. Her eyes were different to him, somehow this courageous young woman had become something more.

Elladora?s tone matched his own, her voice was one of authority, of confidence behind the wisdom of her words.

?Saint Ethan Brigonalius Talonfall has attained Godhood within the divinity, I have been called upon to be his First Priest.?

               *   *   *

What are the character's political beliefs?:
Government is required in any civilization to maintain order for the common people. Fair and just laws when written and enforced by ethical, impartial people create a society that allows men and women a chance of a free fulfilling life.

What is the character's moral and ethical code? :
See Saint Ehtan Laws.

Does your character have any prejudices?:
Corrupt politicians, she does not trust men in authority until they have earned it.

How would your character handle an insubordinate servant?:
This question conveys guilt to insubordination, in that vain, Elladora would punish the servant within the limits of the law, the contract binding the servant and in accordance with the severity of the transgression.

What would the character die for? What would they be willing to sacrifice the lives of their friends for? :
Elladora would sacrifice herself to bring justice to a community, but only if her death were the only solution and the good created from it were substantial. For instance, if she could establish a ruling church within Littleton to replace the corrupt Mayor Harken, that would be a cause worthy of death.

She could not sacrifice the lives of her friends, it would be an evil act, regardless of the good that may benefit from it.

Who is the one person your character trusts the most?:
Her father Richard, her good friend Kenneth Granger and Master Jaccob are all the people who she trusts most (equally).

How would your characters parents describe her?:
Prior to her exile and conversion to priesthood she was thought of as a loving girl, who was just as quick to laugh as she was to lend a helping hand. She was one who always thought of others first. The jewel in their family, her mother and father thought to her marry her ?up? in social status and gain many strong grandchildren from her. Although they have not seen her since she was twelve, Master Jaccob has been sending her parents secret letters about her every week for the past nine years. They couldn?t be more proud of her.

What flaws does the character have? Is she quick to judge people? A slob?:
Elladora has spent nine years with the monks at the Monastery of Twilight. She is adored and loved by most of the men and women there (save two spies and a stubborn old lady). Her flaw within the monastery is her beauty, while there she has tried to dull her appearance to make the lives of the monks easier.

Her flaws to those of the outside world may be as follows are her views towards the following alignments:

Neutrality: Elladora personally has a trouble with neutrality, believing all sentient beings are good or evil, lawful or chaotic, with hardly any gray in between. However, she has experienced first hand that individuals can get caught between the truth and the Law.

Chaotic: Those who cannot abide by the laws of society are still presumed innocent, but must not live within the limits of that civilization.

Evil: Those who disobey the commandments and decrees of her faith shall be punished accordingly.

What advice would you give your character?:
Lighten up girl! You are too young and attractive to be so extremely serious. Let your charisma be the first impression and your piouty be the second, not the other way around.

List the 5 most important people in the character's life.:
Master Jacob, First Order of the Monastery of Twilight
Richard Keh?Vale, Father
Kenneth Granger, Friend
Mayor Harken, Corrupt Politician
Dracos Harken, Pathetic Peer

What is the character's "big secret", and what will happen if it is discovered?:
Elladora is a Cleric, and not a simple peasant girl. In many towns this, in and of itself, would be considered heresy. First and foremost, true clerics are rare, secondly, they are always men. Many people in the world do not accept women as anything but a sub-servant, for her to be in such a holy profession will cause a stir wherever she goes. If anyone were to here of how she became ?called?, they would believe her insane.

"Hey, I've got an interesting job for you..." Name 3 jobs that your character might find interesting.:
?I need you to be the judge for this township.
?could you file and organize this Library, and look for anything to do with the subject of Law??
?could you tend the sick and needy in this town this winter??

How will the character die? What would you consider a good end to a life well lived for this character?:
Most likely this character will die at the hands of the very people she is trying to protect. A good end to this character would be in the service of her God and his principles.

What might someone seeing the character for the first time think?:
Human male perspective: ?She?s a bit tall for a girl, solid looking too, definite birthing hips there. And what a face! Like a beautiful (serious) statue.?

Does the character have any goals?:
Sainthood, not for the gain in power, but for the exalted status it represents. This woman doesn?t worship through her religion, she aims to be the personification of it.

To attain followers who can bear the mantle of justice under Saint Talonfall?s banner.

What is the character's personality?:
Reserved and methodical, Elladora does not speak or act without thought. Although she does smile and laugh on occasion, she is not quick to do so. She is also never apart from her religion, although she does not preach to others (yet), it lives as part of her soul and emanates in her actions.

Any reoccurring mannerisms?:
She keeps her modest clothes and armor in the best shape possible. Like all material objects in her life, her care and responsibility to her armor is a daily ritual. So much so that the methodic routine she performs when field dressing can be viewed by others as quite odd.

What is this character's "thing"? That is, what action, activity, saying, motion, mannerism, etc., would be considered their "trademark"?:
She whispers a prayer to her deity for each action. Whether a small prayer before the taking of a meal, or a blessed phrase of warning to her enemies, she is always quoting scripture.

What is her first reaction to a situation? That is, does she run in, swords-a-swinging, or always attempt a peaceful parley, or examine every fact and mitigating circumstance in great detail before making a decision, etc.?:
Goblins firing arrows into the party must be slain, if they can be made to surrender and brought before the justice system then all the better. She will not however, sacrifice her life or allow her fellows to come to harm in attempt to make them surrender.

If possible, Elladora will most likely hang back a moment or two when battle commences. She will ascertain the strategic situation and help as required. Whether it be a protective spell on a comrade or the crushing swing of her mace.

What would be the ultimate magic item for this character?:
The complete journal of Saint Ethan Talonfall, for within it contains all of his philosophy.

What would be the worst curse this character could ever receive?:
One that would strip her of her piety, her religion, and her connection to her holy abilities.

What special qualities does the character possess? NOT your PHB-skills, but what else can the character can do well? Does he get along well with other people? Is he skilled at taking care of business? Prioritizing tasks? Planning ahead?:
Elladora was a homemaker and caretaker of her family before she became a Cleric. As such, she has no qualms of preparing meals, gardening, tending to chores or other household tasks. They come quite naturally to her, she will often just start to perform non-intrusive assistance to a host without being asked.

Are there certain things the character just cannot do? What do people who know this character well, criticize him for?:
This character cannot just be a peasant girl. She has a lot of difficulty in allowing herself to relax. Her duty to her clerical profession is part of her, she is therefore perceived as far too serious all the time.

What does your character hate?:
Those sentients that commit crimes upon law-abiding civilizations are despised by Elladora. Whether it be a group of male punks who rape and murder an indentured servant, or a group of farmers who kill a village of orcs who did not provoke them. All must be brought to justice before the Law.

What does your character love?:
Family. While growing up in Littleton, she never took for granted how lucky she was to be in such a loving and compassionate environment. Today, each memory of her childhood is cherished. She is quite anxious to return to them one last time before embarking into the outside world on her grand adventure.

How did the character gain his abilities?:
Master Jaccob believes she was chosen by Saint Ethan because of her inheritant ability and compassion. Elladora believes (knows) her ability was blessed upon her by Saint Ethan. In the moment of her calling, she communed with him for a far greater period of time that elapsed in the real world (prime material world - OOC term, not hers). She has only shared this with Master Jacob, knowing full well what others would think of the story.

What motivates her to act as a hero now?:
Elladora is not niave of the unique quality of her ability and how it will be perceived in the outside world. She acts as a hero now to promote the principles of her religion.

Although Elladora doesn?t consider herself a ?hero? she does act the part, even if it is not welcomed. (Following example under copyright protection by Johan, and used here with no permission granted whatsoever):

?Oh, my husband was just killed in front of me by a band of orcs!"
"There is nothing we can do for him now, let us flee for we cannot take a band of orcs on our own."
"Where will we go?!"
"I suggest we should make our way quickly over that hill and to the other side of the lake. There we will find the road that will lead us to Farville."
"Will you take me there?"
?Of course, it is out of my current path, but you can?t simply wander about these dangerous lands. Once we are in Farville you will be safe.?
?How long will it take us to get there?!?
"About four weeks."
"I'm not going all that way, that?s too far."
"You are living in the Wildlands, without your husband to protect you, you and your little ones need return to civilization."
?I won?t do it.?
?I?m afraid it?s no longer your choice, I cannot allow you to bring your children to harm, which this decision would invoke.?

How did his peers treat the character as a child? Elders?:
Elladora was treated fairly by her peers, although she was teased a bit (by some) for being tall. Dracos Harken tormented her as she approached puberty, wanting to conquer her spirit by forcing a kiss from her. This was a game he played with all of ?his? girls in ?his? town. When she refused him in public, he began a campaign of vengeance towards her, leading to the event that caused her Uncle?s death and her insurrection.

Elladora was treated by her Elders in typical fashion of Shadowlands. Outside of her atypical compassionate and loving family, she was a simple peasant girl in Littleton. Like most girls, she needed to take great caution to avoid the pitfalls girls, as third class citizens, commonly fell victim too. Whether it be conspicuous molestation, forced servitude or simple slander. She managed to keep fairly safe in an otherwise unkind society. At least until Dracos visited the aforementioned atrocity upon her.

What does your character hope to accomplish by adventuring?:
To gain in experience the world has to offer, take that experience and use it to reshape it for the benefit of others. To establish a justice system, legislated by disciples of Saint Talonfall, in all civilized lands.
Why is this goal more important than her safety? :
Because the safety of all innocents is far greater in importance than her own.

What is the character's kryptonite? What is their weakness or what will paralyze her with fear?:
She had read and researched many transcriptions and records of crimes committed by men and women. It has become a hobby of sorts to identify and try to understand the criminal mind. So the extent the human mind can turn towards evil doesn?t shake her. However, something inhuman, something beyond the mere twisted passion of a mortal may shake her greatly. (ie. A demon or devil would throw her off her game.)

What does the character do to relax? :
She doesn?t, that is one of her flaws, she hasn?t relaxed since she was twelve. If she ever gets a few days to spend with her family, this could change.

Describe the characters ideal mate.:
Tough one, as she doesn?t even consider this an important issue at the moment. As hinted at earlier, he would have to be kind and compassionate, like her father. But be able to challenge her intellectually and debate her upon philosophy in order to keep her beliefs sharp. He would have to be at least pious in his heart, respecting innocents and be willing to make personal sacrifices to help others.

Physically, she has many a bad encounter with shorter men, all whom have had some form envy towards her. So a taller man would be preferred. Other than that, she has not thought upon the charismatic traits of a mate, more on the emotional ones.

What is in your character's pockets, right now?:
In the pocket of her peasant dress is usually a few copper and a silver or two. She also keeps her fingers around a small wooden holy symbol of Saint Ethan while her hand is in her pocket. For luck, and for passing to people who may be interested in learning more of her Lord. She has many of the symbols in her backpack, all carved in loving detail by a monk friend.

What is the silliest thing your character has ever done?:
When training with Brother Sheku at the monastery when she was 17, she was losing a bet in front of all of the monks that she could best him with the quarterstaff.

?Your problem Elly is that you never expect the unexpected.? He said after he whacked the back of her knees with move she had never seen before. She lay flat on her back as he crouched over her, blocking the view of the sun. Knowing she was beat, she quickly turned the table by flashing him a sensual lick of the sweat on her upper lip. In his utter shock she was able to throw her staff between his legs and with a twist had him on the ground in her place.

In Character Discussions / Valen's Thinking
« on: March 06, 2006, 11:47:57 AM »
[OOC: This is merely Valen?s thinking the night prior to talking to the companions].

?They didn?t kill him.?

Valen said to the wolf, out under the blanket of stars, the walls of the Keep surrounded him and his companion who looked up at him, almost appearing to have the question in her eyes.

?The Vulture King, the Captain only thinks they killed him, I think he lives.?

The wolf let out a small whine and lowered her head back to the ground where she lay. Valen let out a small half-smile at the animal?s amazing sense of perception. He consoled her with scratching behind the ear. Valen sat back against the wooden wall and pondered for a few moments.

?It is quite possible he used the event of his fake death as a way to feign a want for atonement with Ehlonna, and Dannabar was the tool. It was a trick, using the man?s pity as a weapon against him.?

Valen was lost in thought for more than a few more moments, his stroking of the wolf?s fur fading. The wolf looked at him in gentle reprimand.

Valen closed his eyes and said mournfully, ?We killed an innocent man, and I have saddened her. I must make amends for my part in this.?

The night breeze was gentle and cool, it was quiet in the Keep, the only sound coming from the guards footfalls along the parapet. Despite their presence, Valen never felt more alone in his short life.

?I have to attempt to convince the others. We need to return to the Gargon Valley and find this false King. If he represents what I think he does, he is more of a danger than the Keepers at home. He is a representation of all that is ruthless within nature. Unforgiving and apathetic to the plights of sentients, and he is passively aligned with the Wendigo who seek to annihilate all that represents a threat to nature.? Valen spoke softly, but firm, patting the animal?s fur with calm assurance, so as not to alarm her.

?The experience of defeating him will only give me more knowledge, more power and understanding of my own abilities.?

The look of reproach the wolf gave him startled Valen.

?No worries my pet, I only lust for it in seeking the resolution of a greater problem. For I must eventually return home, the Keepers cannot exist unchecked in their current state.? Valen let out a small sigh. ?In fact, they would find this Vulture King and Wendigo situation most interesting, applaud it in fact.?

Valen started to tire from the burden weighed upon his soul.

?Tomorrow I will speak to the others, I cannot tell them all. They have not known me long enough, and would doubt the sincerity of my search for power. But hopefully, the atonement of Brother Dannobar?s soul will be enough to move them.?

Valen closed his eyes, his hold on his thoughts starting to slip.

?She was so beautiful, so majestic, so?.saddened,? he said and drifted into sleep.

« on: February 16, 2006, 07:42:56 PM »

Matt =       Scale (alt.)
Johan =    Dariooq (alt.)
Fraz =       Erinalia
Mudge =    Garbhan
Wildfire =   T?riad

Date Unknown


As your mind wakes, stiffness is felt within various muscles of your body. For a moment you open your eyes, squinting at the beautiful blue sky above, and listen to the surf as it massages the beach. The recent horrific dream sits at the edge of your consciousness, but every violent detail is muted by the reality of its falsehood. ?It was but a dream,? is your thought.

?Or was it?!?

Suddenly a sense of dread overcomes you, realizing that your last memory is of you and your companions in the Dwarven Keep. Opening a door, Mel had pushed aside bones which covered the floor. Then a blackout is all you remember, a small period of utter darkness prior to the dream. How you came now to be waking on a beach makes absolutely no sense to you.

You quickly close your eyes, feigning sleep.

Your heart quickens with anxiety at the unexpected situation. The temptation to stretch the remaining stubborn muscles is squelched by the concern that you may not be alone. You intently listen, trying to hear anything beyond the breaking waves.

For many moments, nothing but the sound of the birds, the rustling of the palm leaves behind you and the unusually loud surf reaches your ears,

With trepidation, Garbhan and T?riad open their eyes and discover each other, lying on the sand of an unknown beach.

The two of you quickly realize that you are completely removed from where you feel you were just moments ago. Nothing of the Dwarven Keep, the sanctuary entrance before it, or anything even remotely resembling the Outpost Ledge, is to be found anywhere nearby.

Instead, you find yourselves sitting up on a long stretch of shoreline that runs northeast to southwest, the setting sun in the west giving you your bearings.

There is no mistaking the stronger breakers on the shoreline belong to that of the Ocean and not the inner bay of your home. Although the stretch of sand from Ocean?s edge to the strip of jungle behind you is quite long, the eight foot tall waves almost push the waters edge to your feet.

Behind you, a massive cliffline is cut into the edge of a mountain range that borders this section of the Isle. It spans as far as the eye can see in both directions. One can easily surmise that the eroding current of the ocean changed course many years ago, as there is now a defiant strip of jungle between the beech and the devastatingly tall tower of rock.

This thick jungle completely conceals the cliff which appears a few hundred feet behind. The vegetation resembles that seen outside of the Outpost ledge, tropical in nature, and full of the precarious roots and thick undergrowth. Large boulders, exiled from the face above, have invaded and conquered the Jungle. Some large sections of rock, bigger than some houses found in Dullstrand, have rolled out onto the beech. Some are losing the war with the eroding surf.

Beside the closest one of the boulders, which is double the height of a man, is a small palm tree. The trunk of which grows from the bottom edge of the rock, finding protection and nourishment where only nature in its determination can.

To the southwest, it appears the island stretches west with a mountain that refused to move for the overpowering ocean.

The two of you sit for a moment and blink at your mutual confusion.


After they rubbed their eyes and got a good look at their unfamiliar surroundings the two had a short discussion, and decided to head SE.

Within moments of their rise up off the beach, Sahuagin lept from the sea and charged the pair, who were horribly outnumbered, so they ran.

Erin at this time had been observing the two from within a large boulder on the beach. She had awakened to find herself melded within it, and able to observe outside the boulder. She stepped outside the boulder after the Sahuagin charged by it.

Dariooq (alt. played by Johan), upon seeing his blood-enemies, leapt from his hiding place amidst the nearby beach-side jungle and shot an arrow at one of the Sahuagin, downing him. He then let out a fierce battle cry. Now Erinilia was concerned, for she knew not if this new combatant was friend or foe.

Sahuagin, upon hearing the cry of a ages-old enemy turned from their chase of the outlanders and reversed their charge to bear upon Dariooq. T?riad and Garbhan change course as well and wonder if they should stand and fight.

As Erinalia prepares a sling shot, T?riad and Garbhan take their attacks against the retreating Sahuagin. Dariooq takes another

Battle is joined.

Abruptly a huge lizard-like humanoid, later to be discovered as Scale (alt. played by Matt) runs from the ocean, past Erin and joins the fray, apparently on the side of the Forgotten Three (Erinalia, Garbhan & T?riad), as he fights the Sahuagin. Erin launches the stone from her sling at a Sahuagin, but the beast dodges out of the way; Dariooq
swats the stone down with his blade, lest he be hit by it (effects of a near-critical miss).

The battle is fierce and relatively brief, as the two native warriors are experienced at fighting this dire enemy. The Sahuagin are dispatched and Dariooq sustains heavy damage, regardless of this, he and his ally appear to be enraged and continue to hack at the Sahuagin bodies until they are finely minced.

Dariooq harvests the right earfins of each of the dead Sahuagin.

As he and Scale talk (in the common tongue of the Isle of Jhegra), Erin finds that she is able to understand what is being said. Dariooq towers over the little Druid, and Scale is taller yet (pushing seven feet tall). Erin heals Dariooq while Scale reports that there were two other Sahuagin in the water further to the SE. Speculate that they would have been trying to cut the two outlanders (T?riad and Garbhan) off from the south.

The new allies proceed to have conversation. Dariooq explains that he had just come from the new outlanders settlement in the bay, but it would take near to two fortnight or more for these outlanders (T?riad, Garbhan and Erinalia) to get there walking the coast, and to walk through the jungle would be far too perilous. Dariooq says that he can take them to his village outpost, and the three agree to follow him (and Scale).

I believe you walked a short distance away from the carnage and then made camp. Scale eating Sahuahin legs for dinner.

The next morning, the group head NW along the coast.


Dariooq leads you down the shoreline. With the scene of the battle behind you, you soon appreciate the familiar the pleasant climate of the Isle. Dariooq?s walking gate is odd but strong, he appears to be a creature more comfortable being in the water all day.

The four of you become quiet, the events of the recent past occupying your thoughts as you kick fine beach sand ahead of you. As the hours go bye, the tracing jungle to your right diminishes, at first allowing glimpse of the cliff wall but then giving way to the wall completely. You surmise that soon you will lose the beach all together as the areaway at sea level become narrower.

Dariooq takes repeated trips into the surf to scout for trailing Sahuagin.

It is when you see the surf breaking on the Cliffside ahead that you become worried. It becomes apparent to the three Outpost adventurers that Dariooq is not aware of how dangerous the surf would be for them if they enter it.

After a short discussion with Dariooq that they can?t swim in the rough surf, he leaves to get means of transportation. Disappearing in the surf.

A boat appears as it comes around the cliff side, already out onto the water about 100 feet away. It appears to be made from an enormous 12 foot long shell of a sea turtle. Upside down, at least if the turtle was still in it, the boat with a tightly drawn black leather tarp makes it way to you. It rides amazingly high above the water, with only a small protion of the center of the shell touching the ocean?s surface. Despite this, the tall breaking waves go over the boat, and although it shakes and slightly rocks back and forth, it appears to in no way to be in danger of sinking. Drawn from a leather strong that you assume is being tugged by the underwater swimming form of your new friend, it makes its way to you.

Soon enough, Dariooq emerges from the pounding surf of the beach, leading the boat behind him. Both he and the boat seem only lightly affected by the strong breaking waves as they pass by.

The black leather cover has the feel of being covered with a fine oil, yet no residue is left upon touching it. It is tight though, and the three of you soon feel a bit claustrophobic, despite the ample amount of room the box in the center of the boat gives you between the shell and the cover. As you feel the boat shove off the shore and head out into the breakers you brace yourselves, covering your heads with your arms so as to cushion the blow you know will be coming.

Amazingly, when the first wave hits, the boat is only mildly jostled, despite the deafening sound of the wave reflecting off of the leather.  All of you let out a sigh of relief, as the second and third waves hit with the same result, only a mild tilting back and forth. Soon the boat makes it past the cresting points of the waves and you relax even further.

Only after many minutes do you realize that you are heading back to the shore, or in this case the grotto entrance, when the waves start crashing back into the leather tarp. It soons quiets though, as Dariooq must have quickly cleared them and brought you into the Cliffside.

You are wondering when you will be able to breath fresh air again when the leather tarp is tugged from the front and Dariooq quickly clears it away.

You are in immediate awe of the half-submerged cavern. Behind you can be see the gaping half-circular entrance that the Endeavor could sail through. Above and around you see the where the ocean has carved its way through the rock over the centuries. Stalagmites cover the ceiling, threatening to drop on the lucky passer bye. Natural columns of rock border the sides, with some plateaus of rock, large enough for a few men to stand upon occurring here and there. The cavern itself is so large that many seagulls fly back and forth throughout.

The light is strong, due to the massive opening behind you, but ahead is thickening shadow, and you again wonder if Dariooq can do something that you can?t.

After a moment, you realize he cannot. Still swimming alongside the boat guiding it with one hand, he asks you to reach in the box at the center of the boat to grab a lantern.

Garbhan flips off the lid and pulls a large, two-foot tall, mithral lantern from the box. You recognize the dwarven masterwork craftsmanship with growing familiarity. The elliptical squashed globe has a thick looking, but clear oil in it. A rope-thick wick made of a green hemp material protrudes from the feeding mithral mechanism at its top. This surrounded by a square box of mithral with panes of clear but thick glass. Between the window paned box and the globe sticks out the metal reel that when twisted feeds more wick to the flame. It is shaped like that of a miniature mace. Each of the six mithral feett attached to the globe have the symbol of Moradin etched into their sides. At the base of the globe   Garbhan then pulls an ornate flint trigger, also mithral from the box. Lifting the glass cover of the lantern and with a quick scissor like flick of the trigger the lantern is alight. The illumination from the unusually sized lantern casts warm light quite a distance.

As you make your way ahead you see that the massive cavern splits in two. The water is far calmer here as the waves subsided almost immediately at the entrance behind. So calm is the water in fact that you here the dorsal fin break the water behind you before you see it. You turn as you see a large black fin break the water no more than 10 feet behind and to the right of the boat.

?They are blessed, my totem wishes to meet them,? thinks Dariooq as he stops tugging the boat and swims to the other side to get a better look at the visitor.

The surface breaks ahead of the fin and the largest head any of you have ever seen breaks the surface. A great Whale glides slowly past, observing you with the one eye on the side of its body. At twice the length of the boat, the creatures appearance is most unnerving.

Making you way into the left-hand side tunnel, the remaining light from the grotto entrance behind you leaves. The new tunnel is much smaller, appearing to be only about 20 feet tall at its highest point. The light of the lantern plays with the shadows created by the uneven rock above. Minutes pass and the cavern splits in two again, although this time the tunnel stays the same size. You also note that the water level doesn?t threaten to rise, or the ceiling overhead encroach.

Many minutes pass bye while Dariooq, almost without effort, guides the turtle ship down the twisted cavern. The sound of his movements gently echoing off of the cavern walls.

Finally, the way up ahead seems to be illuminated, and after a corner is traversed the visitors behold the Darfellan home.

The small cavern opens before you in a large underground cave, although the water here runs from wall to wall as it had in the passages traveled. All of the cave walls are layered with multiple large plateaus of rock. Built upon the surrounding wall is the village of this hidden tribe. Large black leather tents, shanties and simple coverings over small caves  can be seen all about. Some plateaus are only accessible by rope ladder, others have either a natural path of rock or a rough bridge constructed of trees from the shoreline outside.

The place appears almost deserted save a group of darfellan at a plateau at the water?s edge across from you, and a lone sitter, above them on the highest plateau. As Dariooq swims you across the cave, the fire from the various torches illuminates the scene ahead of you.

Not one of the three would-be warriors stand higher than Dariooq?s chest. Although standing at attention, and armed with a halberd, each of them couldn?t possibly be the age of majority for his race. As you reach the edge upon which they stand, Dariooq climbs from the water and onto the ledge, stands at his full height, towering over the children. The boat drifts slightly to his left and nudges the rock edge.

You notice that many eyes and faces peer from behind many a leather flap. This place is not nearly as deserted as it appeared when you first entered.

The elder above leans back, as though listening to someone in the tent behind him. After a moment, he speaks. His voice crackling with sharp broken whistles, he announced from overhead, ?You have succeeded as had been foreseen Great Warrior. The Vision of the Outsiders was a clear one. We shall celebrate this night and rejoice in the glory of your victory.?

After which, the leather flaps are all quickly shoved aside and what appears to be the entire tribe of Darfellan emerge from hiding. After stepping into the light, each one of them taps the butt of a spear or halberd on the rock in what could only be the races show of applause.

But to your dismay, the numbers are not as many as you surmised upon seeing all the tiny leather huts. Only slightly more than a dozen women, with only a few of child-bearing age, can be seen. Although each one of them strong looking and larger then even a human man, and a tough looking gender, they are but a few. And none of the women compare to the venerable age of the remaining four men that can be seen, one of them the speaker from above.

Dariooq helps the three of you come ashore and guides you to a rope ladder that leads to what could be a main structure within the cave.

As you climb up to the platform above, you find yourselves on a 20? diameter circular platform, a wooden bridge is off the edge on the right, connecting to a small ledge before a leather flap covering what is assumed a small cave. To the right in natural path of rock that inclines as it traces the edge of the wall before reaching another platform with a closed leather tent upon it. On the back wall and to the left is a tall leather rope ladder. One that passes other interconnected leather-covered caves and reaches the platform high above, where the elderly Darfellan had spoken. A large leather shantie almost covers the platform, the center of which is cut-out to allow the passage of smoke from the roaring fire pit below. Upon the pit, a large chunk fish flesh is basting. It is cover in a fine oil and smells of delicious scents of some foreign herbs.

From the large tent to the right emerges one of the younger-looking women, carrying what appears to be bowls of food. As she make their way to the fire, Dariooq motions for you to sit near the fire and be comfortable. The woman is almost as tall as Dariooq, and just as powerful looking. Wearing black leather armor from head to toe, which is embedded with sharpened bone studs, she is quite formidable looking. Her thick muscled neck is wider than her head, and her demeanor does not match with the task she currently is performing.

Without too much grace she places the bowls at your feet, one of a spongy unedible seaweed looking substance, but two others with ripe bananas and oranges. Not yet sitting by the fire with you, Dariooq motions towards the woman to introduce her. She stands at an almost cautious attention, as if she is still unsure of the three of you.

?This is my first mate, Shoni, our pod has a young son. She is also a Mother Warrior in our dialect and it is an honor for me to introduce her to the Outlanders,? states Dariooq in obvious pride.

With an unexpected small smile, she looks at each one of you as you introduce yourselves. She then goes to the back of the platform and sits unceremoniously.

As she does, another slimmer woman, also of the younger generation, emerges from the same tent. Carrying more of the bowls shaped from large sections of bamboo, she walks down the incline and towards the fire. She is wearing only a simple leather halter top and leather breeches that cut-off just under her bottom. The very small amount of clothing allows the exquisite markings typical to her race to be fully observed. Beautiful in their symmetric fluidity, the white pattern of her skin, wraps lovingly around her body. Starting at her middle toe, the white skin band widens to a wide strip that wraps outward behind her calf, comes forward over her knee, wraps back again behind her thigh and disappears under her shorts near her inner thighs. The two white strips must cross at her lower back where it pools up to her shoulder blades, spilling forward to her front. The border between the white and black can be see at the edges of her halter top that covers most likely a chest of creamy white skin. Her face and arms are completely jet black, but her face is one the most gentle of her kind. She wears two long trailing feather earrings, one from each ear. A popular headdress amongst both genders of this race.

Her beauty is so mesmerizing it crosses the boundary of racial lines and both Gahrban and T?riad catch themselves staring.

By the fire and at your feet she places to of the large bowls. One of clear water, and another full of a browned coconut that sizzles with heat and gives off the aroma of cinnamon.

Dariooq motions to her as she begins pouring water into coconut shells for each you. ?This is my second mate, Dahreehan, a competent food gatherer and preparer of this meal.?


Soon the platform is filled with bowls of food and with an array of members of Dariooq's small clan. Dariooq stands and proclaims that his mission has been a success. He has been to the outpost, and has met these members of that tribe; they are here now. He believes that the members of the outpost can be a powerful ally to the Darfellen. And, as if that weren't enough, "Two hands Sahuagin were killed in the doing of this thing". He casts forth the earfins harvested from the Sahuagin. To the applause (drumming of spears and sticks on the ground) of the Darfellan pod.

Then, a small all-white girl enters and Dariooq approaches her, kneeling ceremoniously in front of the waif. The young girl speaks in an authoritative manner, and tells Dariooq that what he has done has been good.

But that the company that he has brought home must leave immediately to Scale's village. They are in dire need and danger. They must leave even before talks can be had; even before food can be eaten properly. Time is not our ally.

House Rules / Psionics Abolished
« on: February 06, 2006, 12:48:34 PM »
An earthquake just took all psionics away from the campaign.  :twisted:

Out of Character Discussions / Psionics - Imbalance or Ignorance?
« on: February 05, 2006, 04:54:00 PM »
EPHB, page 54;

"....manifester level, which is equal to your psionic class level."

"A power that can be augmented for additional effect is limited by your manifester level (you can't spend more power points on a power than your manifester level."

Himo is 3rd, I mistakenly thought he was 5th (God knows why). Energy Missile (page 102) requires 3 power points. (Therefore, he cannot augment this specific power until he is 4th level +).

Effectively, he can (only) do 3d6+3 points of damage with that ability. The DC should be 10 + 2(ability level) + 4(Ragnor's 18 intelligence) for a total of DC:16. This we had right, but I wanted to include it here so I can demonstrate that this number is an easy one for higher level creatures to resist.

Note: For Mind Thrust, an ability with only a cost of 1 power point, he can augment it at +2 for 3d10 points of damage.

Kit, in turn, can now (that she is 3rd) augment Mind Thrust to 5d10 points of damage, because she is a WILDER, which is a special ability of that class [Wild Surge +2]. But fear not Ragnor, you and I are balanced as I cannot use 2nd level powers yet, and have only two powers known.

Just my two cents, as the sessions go bye, I will keep a thumb on both Ragnor and I and make sure we have a better understanding of our abilities.

In Character Discussions / The Hunted Hawks
« on: January 31, 2006, 11:22:50 AM »
Continued from Session 5 - A Passing

Kit was quiet for awhile, allowing Laren time to think as he guided the horse down the trail. Sitting behind and against him on Starsprinter, she could feel the tension within him. After a few hours of riding, it did not dissipate as she had expected.

'He has been through so much these past few days,' she thought.

Finally, and with a bit of hesitation in her voice, she asked, "Laren, can we talk for a bit?"

In Character Discussions / The Young Girl Limps Away
« on: December 08, 2005, 12:24:56 PM »
As Laren left to inform Julius of the violence of the evening, Kit quickly realized how difficult it was going to be getting to Ashe's Place, clear across Threshold.

The arrow had hit her square in her leg. Its metal tip scraped back and forth across the bone as she limped to Rosewalk. She dared not remove it, fearful she would open up the wound further and bleed even more.

She made it to the very stables the Protectorate had encountered the rats. Seemed like months ago now, as she leaned against the barn door, she wondered if she should try to take one. The quick observation of the lock on the door decided the matter.

She was startled as a sudden voice cryed out in the dark, "Kit, is that you?"

Kyle, holding aloft a covered lantern, approached her from the road.

Out of Character Discussions / Humans - The Benefit Package?
« on: October 18, 2005, 08:09:52 PM »
Alrighty Phin, we have you cornered now. First question I have is this, if I play a human, what do I get?

Second is, can we start generating characters? I am busting to get this character on paper.

House Rules / Alternate Character Generation
« on: October 17, 2005, 01:11:45 PM »
Coming soon

In Character Discussions / Session 7.5: Garbhan
« on: September 27, 2005, 12:19:56 PM »
Gahban woke with a start.

?Wha? sort?ve place is this tha? I?m in?? he thought. He was lying on his back in a large bed. From the feel of it, it was stuffed with goose-feather-down, for it was extremely soft and giving.

?Ach! Tha?s j?st bloody great!? he said as he sat up, waiting for his back to snap in protest. He was young, but his body always protested against civilzed comforts. Give him a clear spot on the ground at night and he slept like a baby in the womb. Yet surprisingly, and almost with a touch of disappointment, his back did not protest as he swung his feet over the side of the bed.

?P?rhaps it?s me tha?s goin? soft?? he thought. ?I cannea r?memb?r j?st how I came t? be here, let alone sleeping in this?this?bed! Bah!? He stopped as he looked down in horror at the quilt on the floor beside the bed.

It had a flower pattern.

Grabbing it, he held it aloft. ?Wha? the blue blazes is this piece o? chrap?!?? he said aloud.

?Mother, he?s awake!? he heard a child yell from the other room.

Startled, he took a better look around him. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he looked about the small bedroom. The bed had no frame and was flanked by two nightstands. Across from the bed was a simple wooden dresser, and to his left, adjacent to the door, was a matching armoire. The floors and ceiling were hardwood, the walls mortared stone. Two unlit oil lamps were on the dresser, but the daylight filtering through a curtained window to his right allowed him to see.

?Damn th? gods! Wha?s the sun doin? up afore me?!?? he cursed to himself, lowering his head into his hands, trying to remember how he got here.

?Walls an? a damn roof?!? What?m I in a house? An inn p?rhaps? Why? Am I travlin?? Where would I be goin? to, I wonder? Damn me, wha?s goin? on here?!?!?

?Gahban? Come quickly!? asked a woman from outside the bedroom window.

?Ach, I can no longer ?scape tha? way. Blast me! Now I?ll ha? t? find some other way out! Luck j?st in?t a friend o? mine t?day, I see! Now I?ll ha? t? be thinkin? on me feet t? find a ?nuther way out.? He didn?t like the situation, never comfortable with change, especially so if it occurred without his knowing.

Thinking he couldn?t be in too much trouble, after all, it was a woman and a childs? voice he had heard, he walked over to the bedroom door. He paused at it, ?Did I slep the night in?nother mans home?? For a moment he filled with sudden dread. ?Waz th? harlot who call?d him yel?n in fear?? he thought.

?No,? he reprimanded himself. It wasn?t in his nature to lie with another mans wife, no matter how drunk he got.

He stepped through the door.

Beyond it was a common room that was clearly the only other room of a small farmhouse. Sitting at small table barely big enough to sit four was a small dark haired child. She was a thin but tall little thing who was probably no older than six or seven summers. A wood cooking stove was to his right, as was simple wooden cabinets from which pots and pans hung. Behind the table and the girl was another, much smaller, bed, beside which was a small rocking chair.

Gahban made a line for the door that was near the bed. Halfway across the room he stopped in his tracks.

?Morn?nin pappy.?

In Character Discussions / Session 7.5: Elberrin
« on: September 26, 2005, 06:36:24 PM »
Elberrin wasn?t sure what had just happened. With a skip of his heart, he thought for the briefest of moments that he may have fallen asleep. During this critical moment, that simply wasn?t possible. There was no way that after months of planning this mission, he had allowed himself even a momentary lapse of reason, let alone sleep.

?Then what the hell just happened?? he thought.

There was no physical sign of disturbance around him in the dark alcove of the tower. No outward sign that someone had spotted him with magic, and there was no one in Khovaire who could see him otherwise.

Yet he felt as if time had skipped a beat. Fortunately, the training of these past decades served him well. Despite the unexpected shock of the moment, his mind and spirit had locked it into memory. He therefore split his mind, devoting half of his attention to the mission at hand, the other half to this unexpected phenomenon. As he analyzed, he realized the moment was more of an extension of his intellect, a shadow of what once was. ?Why would his past surface now for his reflection?? he wondered. ?Why would thoughts of the Isle haunt him at such an important moment??

After a few precious moments he surmised that these questions were not going to be answered at this time. He stored them for future contemplation and returned his total devotion to the task at hand.

It would be any moment now. His target would step out onto the balcony of the opposing nearby tower and he would make the attempt. Months of hard work, trials and tribulations with both the plan and those it affected, it all came down to this.

His scrying eye, floating hidden in a room below, saw movement within the adjacent windows of the targets balcony. It would be soon. Elberrins? muscles flexed instinctively in anticipation. His heart began to beat faster, restoring the cramped muscles and giving them the lifeblood they needed to spring into action. The alcove in which he hid was open to a balcony of its own. He already planned every footstep of the charge he would make when the time came, the charge that would carry him up and over the rail and down to the city far below.

He would only get this one chance. It was succeed, or die.

As he watched through the third eye in his mind, he watched his target finally come through the door and onto the balcony, three hundred feet below Elberrin?s current position. As expected, the target went to his railing and called out to his flying mount. This was Elberrin?s opening.

With timed precision and the plan before him, Elberrin went into action. As he charged towards the rail of his own balcony, he knew that his target would not be aware of him until the attack had been completed. And by then, it would be too late for him. Although he moved with great speed and agility, his mind was calm and focused on the effort. Every foot landed precisely where it was destined to land. Every stride was the length it was meant to be. The multiple magics cloaked him, blocking his passage from any who perchance may be gazing at this specific balcony. At this height, in this section of the City of Towers, that wasn?t likely.

His body glided over the railing and he started his freefall to the city thousands of feet below. He couldn?t help but allow himself a small smile. As dire and as important as this mission was, this was his moment. Nothing could take it from him. Decades of missions like this had left him with a confidence. A confidence that allowed him to enjoy what he had become. An Assassin.

In Character Discussions / Session 7.5: Mel
« on: September 25, 2005, 11:16:54 AM »
Mel found himself standing with his eyes closed and his lips and tongue lightly caressing those of another. Startled, he snapped open his eyes and pulled away from the woman who embraced him. He immediately recognized Trinity, who looked considerably older, and shorter. Her dark black hair was streaked with grey, her face was mapped with light wrinkles. He became alarmed as he realized that she wasn?t so much shorter as he was taller.

?What the heck was that about?? Trinity asked. She appeared slighted from him brushing her away and stepping back.

?Um?.? Mel said, as he held up a finger to request her patience as he looked at everything around him at once. Questions flooded his mind as his head almost spun off his shoulders trying to look around the vast chamber in which they stood alone. ?Where the heck am I? For that matter where the heck was I before this? Why is Trinity so old and short? Why is she kissing me? What is this place? Will she try to kiss me again? What the hell is that thing? Why is the hair on my feet grey?

They stood within a vast chamber. Its? walls, in the distant shadows, were made of polished black marble, veined with gold. There were no windows, and for all Mel knew, they were deep in an underground complex. There was a lone pair of massive stone doors which stood closed behind him. Each door, carved from a single piece of dark granite, was arched to peak at the center of the blocked opening. The opening appeared to be thirty feet across. Mel hoped that there wasn?t a creature that just ?fit? through that door. Large bands of what appeared to be mithral spanned across the doors at the bottom, center and top. The bands were engraved with multiple runes and symbols, and Mel would make a safe bet that they were magical.

The marble floor they stood upon only stretched thirty from the outer wall. More like a platform, the center of the rooms? floor was cored away. A mithral rail stopped pedestrians from falling over its edge. The rails artistic detail resembling that of cat-of-nine tail reeds, with the top rail resembling that of a long tree root.

Equally spaced around the circumference of the platform, chain hung large fiery braziers, lighting the chamber.

Hanging in the middle of the floors opening was what held Mel?s attention.

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