The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: s0ulz on March 29, 2005, 12:35:00 PM
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*in neat handwriting*
These last days have been very interesting and busy. I finally stood behind the gates of Hlint. I had made it in one peace and my quest to prove myself was ready to start. Fate played a trick on me, when the first person I met in Hlint, happened to be indeed... a gnome. Appelo, a sorcerer apprentice, stood in front of my and was kind enough to help me find job. Those bloody bandits had taken my armor and axe, and I needed the gold fer new ones. Together we slayed the rat bugger in the sewers and returned to the surface unharmed.
I finally had the gold to afford armor and weaponry. I killed goblin scouts fer gold and when I went to get some water from the well... Bloody hell... slimy nasty leeches... huge leeches were all around it. I and a few others set on a quest to find out what was behind this. Oh what an experience. We whacked alot of slimeys that day and returned with the helpers, victoriously to Hlint.
Next I got involved in a mage's matters, who needed escort to Rilara. What a sight to see, an army of adventurers agreed to help him and so we set of towards Rilara. Minor annoyances aside our party managed very well. I met a kinsmen Kobal and a wizard Rufus and plenty of other adventurers... I think I'll be seeing them more often now and they'll certainly hear a lot of me in the future.
Har! They can be sure in that matter!
So what lies ahead. I showed my skills with a shield and in these few days, I have improved even further. Perhaps find work in the Inn to sponsor my cause... perhaps find a sponsor... but one's for sure... I will prove my abilities as a Defender!
*date and signature*
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*in slightly messier handwriting*
Aye... I am really proud of myself now. I managed to do something many have failed at - I slayed the goblin chieftain all by myself. It took some mighty cleaving and shielding my blows, but I've done it! Now I just need to find tha' dwarf master who needed that nasty's head!
I've really grown on Hlint. I managed to find work and got payed very handsomely by Synaldur the Paladin. Mining and making glass aint no problem fer a dwarf! Also this new axe and shield have grown on me. The shield allows me to parry, block and strike while keeping me off the pointy end of someones sword! I must master wielding a shield even further. Then I can truly be a Defender!
*messy signature and date*
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*in neat handwriting*
Well what can you say... I've decided to start sponsoring my own cause. Mining and smithying suits me fine for the moment and still keeps me at my best form by fighting my way down to the ore. Also I've managed to obtain a wonderous item - a cloak which softens blows, amazing! It'll prove useful i'm certain. Getting brown bear pelts for this item was interesting enough - I wrestled, hunted and killed 2 huge bears. My strength hasn't failed me and I was slightly amazed how easily the bears fell. I am getting closer to my goal, but for now, I need to sponsor myself and my cause. Perhaps I could find apprenticeship under someone's guidance.. Perhaps...
*date*
*signature*
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*date in quite good handwriting*
My arms! I can barely feel them... this crafting and mining is getting the better of my limbs... but I'm making tremendous progress... Soon, this Defender will have the proper tools and armor for his mission.
The mines are a busy place. They're infested kneehigh with kobolds. My techniques with my shield however give me a clear advantage over them. However most of the adventurers who end up in these mines are anything but dwarves. I was secretly hopin' to see a brother dwarf here. But perhaps my brothers do not bother themselves with copper and tin. Time will tell.
*written a bit later, signs of blood drips on the paper*
Bah, they cut me deep this time. From my numerous battles in the mines this week, I've come to an important conclusion in tactics. It seems that for a stout dwarf like meh, it's much more effective to wait for the to come to a spot which suits me best and offers me advantages. My shield is big enough to stop their bolts. Just let them come! Perhaps I can develop this standing and holding my own technique into something greater...
*Fenrir closes his booklet and pats his shield*
"Ther' ain't nothing getting past me when I feel I'm ready."[/i]
*walks to his ox for yet another trip to the mines*
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*scribbled in a fast, messy handwriting*
I'm making great progress.. Bronze is at my disposal and I'm decent at making armor of 'em. I found some valuable rocks in the mix, which I sold fer some gold to sponsor myself. However I met an elf, Tathnolu, who seemed very interesting. I feel that I can trust him. He gave me a rod of fire and said that if I break it on my axe, then my axe will be kissed by flames. I was glad for such a wondrous thing and gave him my ruby in exchange.
*written later and more neatly*
My good friend Jan and I got together one day, after he had had a rough time with some undead. I agreed to help him and we headed to the Broken Forest. Oi did we make them monsters take the wrong end of my axe! Jan with his healing and crossbow and me, with my axe and trusted shield, cleaned the forest right up. Aye, good practice. But what happened next was unexpected - Jan wanted to find a place called Stone. There's supposed to be a temple of Beryl there, where Jan really wanted to go to. So we had no clue, but thought we'd go to Rilara, that was our only lead. On Rilara we helped a farmer with some nasty scarecrows and righteously cleaved through 'em sticksies! Then we met some more adventurers with whom we delivered a letter to Johan in Fort Himlad. We searched for his cow as well... but had no luck.
It was pure luck that we stumbled upon Stone and Jan was able to say his prayer straight to his god. We were most pleased. After that we returned to Hlint, all roughed up from sailing and bandits.
*date and signature*
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*in neat handwriting*
Oi what a few days these have been. I picked up a job from Kobal, brother Dwarf who is real good with his fighting. While collecting aloe leaves for him I stumbled in the forest and hurt myself a little, so I thought I'd head back to Hlint for a rest. I walked to Hlint and saw Kobal surrounded by pure darkness, with several bodies on the ground. I grabbed my shield n' axe and rushed to help. The shadows werent the worst though. 3 dragons succumbed from the sky and surrounded Kobal, mumbling about our world being taken over by some mistress. This was most disturbing and Kobal fought bravely agianst the dragon but wasnt able to defeat it.
*in real messed up handwriting, scorch markings on the page*
Oi we were bombed by fiery rocks from the sky. I got hit real bad but was helped by the healer. We're hiding in the sewers and plan to head to the Grey Peaks.
*written later*
We talked to a priest of Shadon who told us what was going on. It seemed that the shadow realm had breached into our world and had overlapped it. We plan to find the soul that has caused it and put an end to it.
*written later*
We're at Krandor and talked to the mother of the girl, whose soul is restless and has caused this cataclysm. It seems the girl was assassinated by the drow for she was somesort of a chosen one.. dont know what exactly. The soul however crawled into one of us and we plan to take it to the rift of the planes in Silent Watch.
*written later*
The mountains are left devastated as we managed to close the rift. The drow shadows took the soul and the rift was sealed. We are all tired and roughed up and plan to head to Hope.
*written later*
Kobal explained the drow incidents that have happened so far and I swore to help as I can in these matters. However I have learned a great deal from this quest for our world. Patience nad caution - I have learned a bit more of 'em. And I've learned this new nifty trick with my shield. Standing at a certain spot with my shield as my wall, I manage to stand against my foes alot longer and firmer. I am becoming a better and better Defender and plan to maximize this new technique. Perhaps I can somehow lessen the incoming blows that get past with some position or shieldside... Dont know.. I have to think on this.
*date and signature*
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*neat handwriting*
Oi aint I a busy dwarf. I managed to get myself in another quest. This time for the temple of Rofirein. I and three others were supposed to retrieve a holy shield from Spellguard, but things got messy. Firemen of the firegod constantly fought us and later a plot with demons and souls got revealed. There was this Dread Priests of Pyrtechnon who had made a deal with a demon and seeked to rob the shield from Rofirein's temple. Well we put a stop te that! I held up good with my shield and axe. Also Vorax was kind te me, for focus on belief allowed me to withstand the bad odds. I really am becoming a Defender!
*date and signature*
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*neat handwriting*
I've managed to better equip myself for my journey. Brothers Kobal and Vigg have become my closest allies and together we dwarves really shine out. I recently acquired a fine axe from Kobal in exchange for some work. A fine axe it is. I have decided to continue my crafts and make more gold for even better equipment, for it seems gold can get you anything here.
Regarding my skills, this new axe handle great and my new shield does wonders with it. I am becoming a true definition of a dwarven wall - Defender... Perhaps my dream isn't as far as I thought. Honor and respect come with actions and once I feel ready, I'll finish my quest and be what I've dreamt so long to be.
*draws a sketch of himself*
*laughs at the sketch with a good bellow and closes his journal*
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*messy shaky handwriting*
This feels strange, I have been struck down, but Vorax spared my soul and allowed me to return to my journey. I was mining in Haven and all was under control. It was easy, too easy. But an ambush was what caught me offguard. Now I am here, gathering my thoughts, why Vorax spared me, but what is for sure, is that them ogres are gonna feel my axe for what they've done.
*sees Hali*
" 'ello lass"
*closes the book*
*written later*
Aye, me and Hali made back to the cave where my ox was left stranded, but while invisible, them ogres slayed it infront of my nose. I felt anger, but sense held me back. Their time will come later. I mined some ore and worked with it... fine ore! This minor setback planted a serious doubt in me, but I've recovered from that soulstaggering incident and the Defender is back on his feet!
*signature and date*
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*clean, neat handwriting*
Oi these have been busy days. I mined, helped others, got helped by others, met another dragon and finished my errants. Busy busy busy. However during my trips to Hampshire and the surroundings, many encounters have occured - either with undead, ogres, griffons or gnolls. This has kept me on my toes and my axe sharp. Can't let all that crafting make me soft! Regarding fighting techniques, I've found a neat new way of evading blows. Of course I ain't writing the whole technique up, but it helps a lot! My expertise with an axe and a shield is improving. Regarding my axe, I'm thinking of getting it enchanted. Perhaps the one I have from Tathnolu. It'd be better fer cleavin' then!
I recently have put more stress on tactics, technique and weaponhandling. Thus my axe has a new rear end, which helps balance it out better. Now I can hit em foes a lot harder, with no loss of defense. However, I've lost all interest in other weaponry. The only weapons I use, other than my waraxe, are fer crafting. So I vowed to Vorax that my axe is his forever. Now I am bound to my axe and am focusing on improving my abilities with it and nothing but it. Er... other than the shield that is.
*date and signature*
*Fenrir closes his journal, mutters about food and walks towards Hlint*
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*neat handwriting*
Well I am really beginning to enjoy my time around Mistone. I have met great people and even greater friends. I feel like I'm part of something bigger - a brotherhood of somesorts. I already imagine me, Vigg, Lar, Kobal, Varka, Geir and many many others in my dreams as a brotherhood. Though we are of different races and traits, I really enjoy being around and fighting aside these great lads. I even painted a silver griffon on my shield as a sort of a symbol of that. If this becomes reality remains to be seen, but I enjoy fantasizing about it.
Recently I've done lots of work. Making armor, crafting weapons, mixing potions and compiling bombs - everything for the purpose of giving me an edge against the countless threats and foes hoping to provide my demise. This I will not allow to happen. If I could just get me hands on some iron armor...
*signature and date*
*Fenrir stamps a symbol and closes the journal with a proud smile on his face*
*Symbol of a silver griffon*
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*swift overjoyous handwriting*
In Dorand's name! Has today been my lucky day! Me and Vigg went mining in Haven and brought back an oxfull of sparkly Iron ore. With Vorax's and Dorand's blessings I managed to not let one piece of ore go awaste and made many shields and a Full Plate for myself. What a grand achievement! I havent even mastered bronze, but I pull this off! This calls for some celebration!!
*Fenrir closes his book and runs towards the Inn, muttering about iron, Dorand and ale*
*scribbled signature*
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*fine handwriting*
Eh, I finally managed to go to Dregar and Xantril. What a dreaded site it was. A large group with me aswell in it had a job to be done. The alliance had to be formed between the dragons. Thus we set off to council the shadow dragon and force it to join the alliance. Once we had talked to the dragon I was forced to leave the party as I simply couldn't go on.. yet seeing a mighty beast as that really made me see how small and meaningless I am compared to him... perhaps this can change...
Another thing happened when I with another half-a-dozen adventurers escorted a noble. This man died of mysterious reasons and I think we must look deeper into it. I simply can't get rest on this case. Let's see what tomorrow brings...
*signature and date*
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*neat handwriting*
Oi well oi been craftin now and visiting them mines in Haven a lot lately. Last time I met Kobal there and we emptied the mountain from all the ore that caught our eyes. After that I had great luck in the smithy and managed to make a dozen brand new iron shields. However what happened later intrigued me.
Kobal and I were walking in Hlint, when we saw an Orc intown. Of course we didn't take this lightly. I consider myself a friendly lad, but this Orc was pushing it. He had stolen an amulet o' Vorax and we demanded it back. Vorax would never allow an orc to follow him so publicly. So we demanded it back, but this Orc thought he was better then us and called us dwarves names. Things escalated when that bugger pushed me to the ground. This angered us and we drove the beast out of town using our fists. Em bloody Orcs better stay out of town or they'll feel me wrath and Vorax's might!
Maybe I shouldn't be so kindhearted to things that might turn on me. Them be em drow nad orcs and such. I should be more careful, for a dead Defender ain't defendin' noone.
*signature**closes diary and frowns remembering the incident*
"Oi better be more careful. *holds his stomach, which has a footprint of Kobal's from his whirlwind attack* Oi this be hurtin, be'ah get some ale on it."
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*neat handwriting*
I am really excited about what happened today. I was in Hampshire, when I met Rufus. Kobal had warned me of him being bad news, so I remained cautious when I made contact. However he seemed really friendly and offered me a job. He said he needed a traveling companion. This really sounds like a good way to earn some gold for my cause. So we set off to Haven, for Rufus said he needed some amethyst. On the way there he asked for me to demonstrate my skills on the Ogres of the blood Desert. With a flick of his wrist, Rufus made ma swift like a wee lad and strike quick like eh cobra. That felt amazing.
In Haven I made short work of em ogres and we succesfully gathered 10 amethyst gems and returned to Haven. The mines were so clean of all the ogres that it echoed! I swear! We were so good! In front of the entrance Rufus told me that I had passed his test of approval and that I'll be hearing more from him when he needs my services. This sounds very intriguing and I am very much looking forward to that.
Rufus seems extremely powerful and I beleive that through these tasks I perhaps may also gain some power, respect and honor in the world aswell. Perhaps we will get along just fine.
*signature and date*
*shrugs, closes the book and walks to the inn* Oi be needin' some ale now... Em ogres really puffed me out.*
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*shaky handwriting*
Something awful happened yesterday. I have changed somehow.. I fell in battle and I now feel like a part of me has gone missing. What could've caused this. I have fell before but never has my god punished me like this. Have I angered Vorax somehow? What is sure, is that I must be more careful. I have been blessed enough times to stop taking it for granted. I admit I was overconfident and I payed hard for it. This I will not allow to happen again... Vorax you have my word. My shield and axe are yours to guide...
*signature and date*
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*overjoyous handwriting*
I have spent my last weeks in exile to gather my thoughts and come to conclusion, what do I really stride for? Well I pondered about my friends and about my so-called fellowship. And it tore me apart, I couldn't even drink no ale fer a day. That ain't bloody right! But my head cleared one day and I saw that my path was within the ranks of the heroes of Layonara and I'll not leave my fathers vanquish into the past. I'll prove my abilities and as such help and fight for my friends lives, deaths, wants and fears. No longer will I cower behind my past if the occasion calls for it. This dwarf aint gonna give up so fast!
*ale stains*
So I'm back in Hlint and am looking for me friends. And it was fate's decision to guide me straight to 'em. It was a fine moment and I'll make me best in staying within their grasp. Fenrir Thornaxe is back and ready to show what he's made of!
*date,signature*
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*normal handwriting, a bit shivery*
So here I am, down a mountain of ice... Everyone else dead or... er... deadly. Even for me. If there is no one coming back for me, tomorrow I'm fighting my way out, even if it cost me life. Vorax will look favorably on his shield of honor. Even though I failed again in saving the lives of me companions. May Mist have mercy on Rolf and Ayla. Em were grand fighters.
*hears goblin riders nearby*
That takes care of this scout party o 'em bloody goblins.
*signature*
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*before this written page there are several ripped out pages*
I've been struggling to write something sensible for a while now. So much has happened yet most of it is bad. I have worked and fought together with friends and foes, seen my closest friends die in the hands of my fierce enemies and seen my closest friend struggle in such pain of soul that it seems unbearable to handle. He is a strong lad.
Ayla was taken by the soul mother... I wasn't there when it happened and neither was Geir, but I somewhat blame those others who were with her on that cursed day. How could they let OGRES get to her?? Those fools. Though I do think they did their best. It's just that in Vorax' eyes best may not be enough and more effort must be put in!
Then there was the wake. What a sad event it was. Yet it was good to see that so many people cared for Ayla and were there for Geir. He had a hard time and still has, but I hope I can take his mind off it. At least teaching dwarven to him will give him some other things to think about. I had made protecting Ayla my personal effort, but since I failed, Geir will not fall without serious consequences. There will be blood!
*date and signature*
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*while eating a roasted rat, Fenrir scribbles this down*
For a long time I've like I was standing still in my progress as a fighter. My shield was worn and so were my skills, I needed a fresh breeze. So I walked my way towards Dregar and while I stopped at the inn in a town on the way, I remembered a conversation with Synal'dur. He had on these legendary gloves of the dire bear. They looked real grand and due to being perfect in craftsmanship, they granted twice the strength my current gloves did.
*belches and wipes mouth with beard, then continues*
I became obsessed with these gloves and decided to go hunt some bears. While doing this the best news I had heard for months arrived via runner - Vigg, me kinsman, had just made a pair of these gloves. Overjoyously I decided to buy a round of ale for the whole inn... bad move... Oh well...
Once I bought these gloves off Vigg, I felt stronger then ever before and wanted to see how they affected my battle prowess. So I walked towards the Forest of Mists to see if those giants noticed the difference. They did... but now my axe felt old and worn out.
*puts down his journal, opens a bottle of ale and gulps it all down, then belches and continues*
So I remembered that Ozy had offered me one for sale. I immediately sent a runner towards him and luckily he a few days later met me in Hlint. I bought the axe, which had been crafted by Ta'karsh Blacklung, one of the greatest weaponsmiths I've ever heard of. Such honor to fight with an axe of such grand dwarves. I blessed the axe with an eternal flame of Vorax, I had left from a long time ago. Now I was ready to bring the pain to my foes.
What else... Oh yes, I've customized my armor a bit.. more comfortable this way. Oh.. and.. something strange. I've been using my stances for quite a while now, but I've learned something new. I've been cut and hit so many times, that my skin has become a bit harder to injure. At least it seems so. If it isn't that, then Vorax really does answer my battleprayers... who knows....
*date and signature*
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*One day while drinking in the outskirts of Pranzis, Fenrir trips on his diary which had fallen out of his bag*
"*oof* Bugger! ... Eh, what's this? Oh... me diary.. haven't written in ye fer a while."
*So he grabs his quill and sits down, occasionally gulping some ale and eating some roast beef*
Busy, busy, busy... That describes my latest weeks. I've helped kinsmen in epic struggles to free lost dwarven settlements, dealt with pirates, ghosts and monsters of all kinds. I've been struck down by drow and giantkind both alike. I've gained more friends and they have earned respect in my eyes aswell.
I've been in Pranzis now for quite a while and am beginning to miss Mistone a bit. But word hails that an assault upon Roldem will launch from Mistone. So I plan to be on Mistone by that time. Thus far I will remain here, collecting minerals, herbs and loot. Dregar is by far not safe, but this exile has proven rather restful for my soul and helpful in developing my abilities further and beyond my imagination. When I arrived in Hlint I had no idea I could once do such things that I am able to do today. But I will push forward and I soon I will see that I'd be given the respect, honor and appraise that I and my name deserves. I will prove myself to my fathers reputation and reclaim what was lost on that sad day, on which he passed on. I swear on my name for that.
*signature*
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*Looking through his bags, looking for some meat to aside the ale, a book drops out of a hidden pouch. It turns out to be Fenrir's old diary, that has collected immense amounts of dust since it was last written in.*
Bugger, where have you been hiding now?
*He blows off the dust and sits down next to a fire for a read. Memories fill Fenrir's mind and many smiles and frowns cover his face when reading through the old stories. He remembers meeting his guildmates as if it were yesterday and feels he has come a long way since that*
Where's me quill, I got a lot of catching up to do.*He mumbles to himself*
*As the light from the fire covers the thin pages of the book, Fenrir begins to write down his thoughts.*
Logbook entry:
It has been months, too many of those, since I've recorded my actions on paper. A lot has changed - from weather to people; from friend to foe; from life to death. Ever since the war against Blood reached it's near end, I became more and more worried aabout my family - how will this worldchanging event concern and effect them?
Worry grew into despair and I left for Bloody Gate as soon as possible. The travel took no time at all, at least for me. Horrid thoughts of what might wait for me there and once the final battles commence, ran through with cold shivers. I knew I had to be there, no matter what.
Reaching Bloody Gate, everything was as busy as ever, preparations for the ongoing war moving people wiht unseen haste. I quickly followed the streets and entered the house that was once ours. The sight was unbareable, it was EMPTY. Nothing that resembles the image of home as I once knew it. Cold stone, furniture collecting dust, covered with pelts.
What could've possibly happened? Is my family dead? Shivers filled me once again and my heart ached for them. I decided to go through the room as soon as possible to find anything that belongs to them, anything... and found a ring. I knew that ring - it was my mothers. The ring was in a box, filled with notes - my notes.. what had reached my family years ago. On top was one note, I specifically remember - a note saying I would come home for a while. It was a long time ago, but those months were great, that I spent with them a few years ago.
I grabbed the ring and ran out on the street, desperate for answers, rage growing within. Further I decided to visit the nearby merchant. He was a long time family friend, so I trusted he might know a thing or two. I approached him with caution not knowing whether he'd recognise me or not - but he did. And without much time spent on greetings and salutations, he answered me before I even got to ask:
Eh bet ye've seen yer house lad, it was left like that a week ago. Yer family left Bloody Gate. A group gathered and decided to move towards Lorindar and then Mistone - for safe harbor of the oncoming battles. They are among these people.
After thanking him and asking what route the group was taking, I set onway, excited and relieved that I would once again see them.
Knowing they would be far ahead of me, but knowing the destination, I ran my heart out and took ships to catch up ti them. I finally reached Lorindar after days of travel and there they were, just outside the gate. A group of dwarves loading their bags on a ship, among them my brother and my mother. At first I thought they didnt recognize me, but after I got a bit closer my mother ran to me. Relief and joy for both of us.
Eventually I helped the group reach Rilara and after that Mistone, the routes were safe enough, with our group not being the only one heading for Mistone. During this travel I knew I'd need to be around my family and keep them safe. I knew I wouldn't live throught their deaths and thus I did. The group settled eventually near the Berhagen mountains and stayed there until the end of the war and the demise of Blood. During this time thoughts of my friends and their welfare riddled me for days and days.
Having helped the dwarves settle in for a longer stay and possibly a lifetime either here or nearby Shoufal, I began thinking of leaving them. My vow to myself many many years ago, to myself and my fathers soul, kept me anxious of returning to the adventurers life.
Promising my family that they'd be safe here living amongst kin and friends, I left once more. Before I knew it, there it was once more... Hlint. A beacon of hope that once already called me, stood infront of me once more, unchanged.
Walking around in town I began to meet familiar faces such as Angela, Varka, Hargranar and so forth. They were amazed by the fact that I was standing in front of them, once more. Some thought I was dead, some thought I was missing, but there I was, back as a regrown beard on a scorched dwarven bard.
*Fenrir adds some wood and tinder to the fire and grabs a piece of meat in between the paragraphs*
After my return, everything began to flow as it used to. Craftwork for the guild, trips into the dismay of battle and unforeseen obstacles. My friends are glad to have me, and to be honest, so am I. Let's see what becomes of this.
One thing is certain, I am ready to step the path of battle - more than ever.
*date and signature*
*Fenrir closes the book and sets in his bag, making sure it would never stay hidden for as long as it did before.*
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*Dawn breaks as Fenrir walks along a path towards Hempstead. Hungry and thirsty from the long travel back from Xantril, Fenrir makes a fire and rests for a while. What better time to dig out his journal and make a few notes while the meat cooks*
Days pass in a speed so fast, I barely notice them. My beard grows thicker and longer, age starting take it’s toll even though I’m far from old in dwarven years. This feeling is what pushes me towards my long ago set goal. I am beginning to think people are noticing my abilities more and more every day and not only my guildmates who say it because I am a friend. My stance is sturdier than ever and countless hours I’ve spent in arenas and forestsides perfecting it. Others might not see this happen much, but most of my free time goes under this.
I’ve now visited the Underdark for several trips and am yet to fall even though countless allies have not been so lucky. Vorax must be happy about that – yet I shudder at the thought of him punishing me once more. A long time has passed since I’ve fallen and Vorax would most likely like me to continue my streak.
Powerful artifacts and treasure has arisen from the Underdark in the hands of me and my companions. Several new heroes of the blade and magic have stumbled into my companionship on these trips. Voon and Boon – brothers of great ability, devoted to Beryl. Rhynn has been a great surprise in his deeply hidden occasionally even dwarf-like behaviour. Not to mention, the lass makes grand ale and food – there has to be dwarven blood in her to be able to brew with such prowess.
More and more I see and hear of people who have devoted their life to one specific weapon. Much like I have put immense work into mastering the defensive and offensive abilities of the shield, they focus on a single weapon to bring out the most damaging sides of the wielded weapon. To me the axe is just an extension to keep balance in stance and repel attacks, occasionally switching to the offensive, when the foe exposes its vulnerable side. Perhaps once I feel the shield has gotten enough attention, I should start focusing on the axe. After all some wisemen do say, offense is the best defense. But putting the two together might make me a foe not many wish to stand against. I need to seriously think about this.
*Fenrir closes the diary, watches as the meat has begun to singe and runs towards it to save as much as possible all the while cursing mixed in dwarven and common*
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*Fenrir finds a steady wall and slides down it, obviously not feeling to well, probably from drinking too much. He sits, burps, finds his diary and starts to write.*
That… *sigh* was too much ale, even for me. A grand meeting of dwarves was held in Hlint’s inn last night. Several dwarves gathered to tell tales, drink, talk and of course hold competitions of the dwarven variety. Honestly it was years ago since I last took part of a headbutting competition, or a armwrestling tourney. I wouldn’t want to be the innkeeper after that evening. Once we left there was hair, blood, ale, vomit and glass all over the place, not to mention the food remains and broken tables and chairs. We had to pay quite the amount of gold to keep the barkeep quiet and leave him in at least some profit.
This all is of course to celebrate us getting closer and closer towards restoring Bloody Gate toi ts former glory. So much time has passed since I visited Bloody Gate, I hate to see it in its current ruined state, it hurts my eyes and makes my heart ache. Good thing I got my family out of there before this horror became reality. Perhaps once we are done, I can return my family to its rightful place.
*Fenrir closes his diary and goes to the well to find some refreshing water*
-
*Fenrir sits against a tree in Hlint and writes in his diary. He seems at pain, only relieved from it occasionally for a few minutes until it begins once more*
It happened, I fell once more. So long had I stood steady in battle, until the day the drow overwhelmed me. I still do not understand what trickery the buggers used to get past my stance, which has seen hundreds if not thousands of drow fall infront of it. My stance is perfect, they were not supposed to get a single blow past it. Yet somehow they did and now I sit here, bleeding from my sides even though I have no wound to heal – only Vorax can and will once he thinks I’ve learned from the encounter and deserve to do battle in his name once more.
Keeping my mind off the incident I’ve met Tristan, a lad Alleina is courting with. The games humans and elves play while in love still make me laugh at times, but they deserve eachother and make a good couple. Maybe Tristan will smack some sense into the lazy elf and convince her to go on guild trips more often.
I’ve put more and more thought into the thought of training with my axe. Because of this I’ve already changed my axe’s handle to make the grip more tighter and avoid even the slightest chance of dropping my axe in combat. It’s not much and far from actual training, but I see it as the first step in perhaps one of a million more to come.
*Suddenly Fenrir grabs his side and groans in immense pain. This lasts for several minutes and once it fades for a while, Fenrir has blood on his hands, even though he doesnt seem to have a visible wound*
Vorax, I will learn from this, doubt me not. If more faith towards you is what you want so badly, I will do so.
*Fenrir closes his diary and stumbles along groaning in pain*
-
*Fenrir opens his journal in a proud manner and begins writing, sitting near the fountains of Hempstead*
Behold Vorax, your shield is now more in service to you than ever before. Wearing the colors of your righteousness and might, I am more devoted to you than previously. Red cloak, in silver coating and black armor with silver highlights is what will represent my willingness to your bidding. Red for the blood that will flow for your name and my goals in life, silver for the glory that has and will send me towards my future, black for the overwhelming superiority that your warriors bring to your foes in battle. My shield is still in your service and every improvement I do in my life is in your name.
*Fenrir bows and throws holy water across his shield and axe*
-
*Being bored from sitting around and doing nothing, Fenrir finds his diary once again and resumes writing*
Several things have happened, some more odd than others. For example I finally managed to gather enough cobalt with the guild to allow Kobal to make me a full plate. Let me tell you, it was WONDEROUS. The feeling of armored and refined cobalt against your skin while in combat must be one of the greatest feelings ever. I am slightly surprised about the abilities of the armor though, since it actually hinders my stance a bit. Perhaps this is something I can overcome. It is good armor, but my stance requires me to take actions and perform moves that regular peopel don’t do. We’ll see.
Another thing, which is also joyful news, is that Storold proposed to some human lass. They seem to be getting along good and even though Storold is perhaps past his prime, I’m certain they will be a happy couple. Storold is a man that puts his word in place and is never cheap enough to follow with his actions. Most importantly, he isn’t lazy, so that gives him a very good look in my eyes.
From good to odd, Dorena was acting like a lunatic around me for the past few months, I was really bothered by that crazy look in her eyes, until at one point I figured it out. The lass was doing it on purpose to make me feel uncomfortable. No clue as to why she would do that, might be the twins driving her crazy or some wild craving to annoy dwarves, but once I stopped reacting to her behaviour, things calmed down. Thank Vorax.
At this point I have three main things going through my head. What of my training, how to improve my stance and put more emphasis on the axe aswell; What will become of the training program that the king ruled favorably upon; How to show Vorax my dedication?
*Fenrir closes his diary while pondering and lets out a relieving sigh*
-
*Some days pass and Fenrir digs out his diary, seemingly upset.*
Blast! Most of my ideas have been undone by just a few days worth. The development of the idea about starting a training academy in accordance with Bloody Gate has been crossed off. Just like that. Even though the King seemingly showed interest in it, further information was neglected and I'm sure it's safe to say that it won't be brought up until I go knocking on the King's door.
I recently visited mother. She's safe and awaits the chance to move back from the Brech's to Bloody Gate. Oh the smile on her face when I told her of the progress that has been made with Bloody Gate. My siblings were excited to see me and have gained in strength in wisdom at a rate that still manages to amaze me. I am proud to have them up and about.
On my way back I travelled through the Brech's and stumbled upon a cliffside that left me in awe. By Vorax' beard I could've sworn it was quite possibly the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. I immediately made camp and decided I'd stay there for a few days.
I knew I wasn't expected back in the guild for quite some time, so I decided to collect my thoughts. With my stance in work and moving steadily towards completion, my previous contemplation kept haunting me. Should I enforce my strike once the defence is set? Do I really want to focus on only one weapon and give it the attention my shield has gotten? Why should I? Won't it take me away from my goal, since time is not on my side for much longer.
I spent several hours pondering until a memory hit me. Why hadn't it hit me before? A sentence... which with my rigorous training seemed to have buried. "A wall is only as steady as the ground beneath it." Right then I knew - enough studies of techique and more focus on versatility and footwork. My stance is tough, tough beyond belief, yet not every situation requires static poses and stances. I must learn to make it much more mobile, make it fluid. Take it from stance to a rampage. To a flurry of defensive moves that involve blocks, slides, misguides and dodging. This might be the last step I need to perfect my stance.
Yes! That is what I must do.
*Fenrir packs his things immediately and without a night's rest he leaves towards the arena in Vehl.*
-
*After a rigorous workout in the Arena, Fenrir once more digs out his notebook and scribbles some text*
I'm on the right path. The stance is complete, now to make it mobile. I've figured out a couple of key
combinations which on paper should avoid most common trajectories of attack.
The left turn, slide and slash combination is great for the charging foe and can be done rotating both ways. I call
this the Mantis, since I dodge and counter with one swift move.
(http://www.zone.ee/magikal/TheMantis.JPG)
The straight up shield bash and depending on the foes size full frontal attack is very surprising and without
uncovering my flanks it has and will take most foes by surprise. It normally starts as overhead shield deflection
to throw the foe out of balance and a quick backside slash to the vulnerable stomach side. I call this the
Boar, since it's a feroucios preemptive strike with sharp tusks like a true boar.
(http://www.zone.ee/magikal/TheBoar.JPG)
Next I came up with a very defensive move which involves a double block of attacks by covering my upside with my
shield twice and a very forceful overhead cleave which comes from the very back side of my stance. It involves
turtling up against a frontal assault and delivering the final blow from above. I call this the Scorpion due
to the similarity of the movements.
(http://www.zone.ee/magikal/TheScorpion.JPG)
Finally a fully defensive stance which is slowly mobile and is meant for holding and slowly advancing in more
tighter situation. It involves a full shield cover and the most effective "Push and Slash" move. I push against the
shield with all my might and shove myself on the foe giving a very brief yet momentuous shrug to throw the foe off
balance for a quick counterattack. These quick steps in between my stance make it a very effective defensive
Turtle method.
(http://www.zone.ee/magikal/TheTurtle.JPG)
I've only gotten so far yet, but these moves are great. Nothing but outstanding. Now to work out a slight
problem... I've done most of these moves out of armor. What happens once I have 50 pounds of cobalt on me.
We'll see...
*Fenrir scribbles some scetches in between the moves*
-
*Without any preplanning, Fenrir grabs for his diary and writes, while enjoying a roast and some ale in a local Inn*
The pace of my life has increased so much it sometimes leaves me devastated. How much am I missing out? I spend nearly no time with my family, every breath goes into running the armoring section of the guild, building effort of Stort and aiding and traveling with my friends. I would hardly call it a waste of time, but sometimes I just miss the calmness, security and pleasure of a simple life.
What a waste of time. I can't believe I just wrote that down in the first place. I am still young and I'm more than certain a long and glorious path is still in front of me. I must not lose sight of why I left Bloody Gate in the first place. I've still much to achieve in the world. Blood was conquered, now the dragons await. Life is grim with the sunshine out of my eyes, yet a dwarf will stand till his last breath before standing down to a foe unrivaled.
I have a feeling things are going to start looking up real soon. Battle for greater good still stands ahead.
I've trained hard and I mean HARD on my stance improvals. It feels out of place to do them out of armor, but that's how it's going to be for a while. At least until I feel armor doesn't restrain me too much. It's odd to see Angela dance with foes like it's a game, while stand there almost petrified. It seems oh so much more effective, but I'm a proud drarf, I'd first give up my life than my shield and armor. Mayhaps if I skimp the armor's leg plates. It'd offer less protection but I believe it'd help my mobility a lot.
We'll see, maybe I'll succumb to the pressure of my own inability and even ask Angela to show me how to move more effectively. I hope I don't have to though...
*closes his diary and starts to eat*
-
*Fenrir once more opens his diary and scribbles*
Days fly past like nothing. Yet good has come of the last few weeks.
I've improved the pattern of the single moves in the fluid stances. I am making great progress, yet I fear that I will have to turn to Angela for some help eventually. I trust she will keep it in secrecy for as long as I ask her to, yet I feel ashamed for even having to ask.
Further on, a call for heroes has been sent to call together the capable heroes of the lands. I trust this matter will be urgent, since rumors have been started that the destination is Ozlo's tower. I'll give my shield and axe and my life if I have to, but Ozlo's tower might hold many answers to our cause.
I've also picked up an interesting hobby recently. Since the guild is more in an automated way of life now and Stort is near the completion of it's first stage, I can now occasionally sit down and fidget with magical artifacts. Why? Well.. I don't know... I have nothing better to do. I guess I've grown
tired of ignorance regarding items of magical power and maybe one day I can learn to use them properly. That'll put a surprising look on many sceptic faces, I'm certain.
*Fenrir's stomach starts to growl and he immediately scours the sight for an Inn*
I slowly grow weary of some people however. Day after day, I come across people who show little to no respect for kin and our achievements, efforts and sacrifices which were done in order to allow a free world to reign.
I swear to Vorax I will bring the glory days of kin back into focus. Even if it is only a single effort by me, something big will grow out of it. Rumors and tales will spread, legends will form. This is what I yearn for... right after acceptance.
*Fenrir closes his book and goes to satisfy his hunger*
-
*Fenrir overjoyedly opens his book and writes*
Success! We have brought daylight back to the world! No more darkened years under stormy clouds and buried hopes, the sun is once more visible.
Ozlo's tower held a secret. A great secret at that, which after being uncovered absorbed all the ash in the sky and allows the sun to shine again. The task itself was not a difficult one, but incidents between people and
representatives of different faiths have always made it more difficult than it actually is. I was only there to make sure my kin would not get the short straw out of this and we didn't.
How the sky was cleared exactly is beyond me, but magical artifacts of such capability have never quite reached me. No matter how it was done, it now is done - and I helped.
It was great to return from the tower into civilization and see the awe on people's faces. They could not believe their eyes and as the heroes marched back into towns, people rejoyced and greeted them as it should be done. I know my mother had a smile on her face, she had to have. She knew I was involved in this matter and I'm certain every last kinsman alive and in Vorax' halls is happy to see the sun shine on us once more.
*The book is closed and Fenrir peers up towards the sunfilled sky with a smile*
-
I open my eyes - darkness.
Not a single drop of light in my sight. What is wrong? The sun was restored, wasn't it? I panic, look for an escape from this deep bellowing darkness that seems to have no edge nor end. I look around I see no walls, I look up I see no sky. I look down, I feel as if I have fallen deeper into it. I struggle and move towards no unseen end, until I realize - it's not a nightmare, it's a test of resolve.
I close my eyes and I feel the light within me beam forward, clearing a path to a pair of gates.
I move closer to the gates to find one gleam of fire and heat, the other of cold serenity and redemption. I look closer I see one of them holding the emblem of Destruction, the other holds the symbol of Judgment. I am confused, what does all this mean.
I've never allowed myself to be succumbed into destruction and if only, because I am a Voraxite. Vorax beckons me to show my might at every opportunity, though honorable it must be. The gates of light feel as if they are just there, not pulling nor pushing. The fiery gates however pull at me with strength only barely lesser than my own.
In between the gates I see a closed cabinet, with a key dangling from in front of it. Why? What purpose does a cabinet have in this scenario? Without any idea what to do about the gates, I move closer to the cabinet and open it.
A maul. Covered in lightning, awaits. What's this? Why? Confusion. I reach into the cabinet and as my hand nears the big hammer, I am pulled by an unknown force into the depths of the cabinet. It's a room, once more covered in deep darkness. It's different. I see a path of light in front of me and hear sounds coming from the end. I now hold the maul in my hands, it's symbols enscribed into it clearly visible. Several names of kinsmen on it and withholding a rune of Vorax in the maul's head, I understand - it is heritage.
I grasp the maul and run towards the end of the path to see a beast unseen before. It launches itself at me only to freeze in the air lunged at me. A moment passes, now two. I smite the beast with a bellow and a strike from the maul. It unfreezes and dies - judgment given.
The darkness falls down as if a curtain has been lowered, the gates in front of me once more. With the maul in my hand I hear a voice over the gates.
You, kinsman, will once have this choice. Judgment is yours to deal if you so wish, but not as easy will it come. Be wary.
What? Who? Why? I am pulled away from the gates and awaken in sweat, my heart racing. I look at my hands, I see no maul, I see no sign of my dream having been real. I do see one thing different. My skin, it's different. It looks almost the same, but feels.. abrasive, stronger, mightier.
Vorax be praised, I've been given a blessing. I now withhold the Hide.
-
*Fenrir opens his book and writes*
It feels great. I am stronger than ever before, able to take punishment unseen before. It's playing the cards right into my hands. With the Hide I can finally focus on movement more than stature. I no longer have to fear
mistakes of movement, since single blows hardly hurt me. Footwork still has me in a stranglehold, I can't figure it out, but I'll continue to work on it.
After footwork, I've put more effort to make the single counter-attacks of the Scorpion and the Turtle much more painful. They are swift and without mercy. Should one befall infront of them, they are slashed beyond recognition.
Ever since my dream, as real it seemed, I know Vorax holds a much bigger piece of my future than I've ever realized. My father's recognition is now but a small piece of my goal. Vorax must be proud. I digged in the chests at the guild and found an adamantium maul. I forged it to look like the one in my dream and bear it at every opportunity. I of course will not reveal it's true purpose or meaning, yet it's delightful to carry around. I feel as if I withhold judgment in the maul and deal it out with every blow. The Hide allows me to use it and at most opportunities I will.
*This part seems to be written later as an add-on*
I can't believe what I've found. Jacchri and I raided a giant tower, lost in the mists of Thunder Peaks and recovered a scale. Not a scale of weights, but a scale of a dragon. A black dragon. It still pulses with magic and I withhold it with great responsibility. It's magic will protect me and my comrades through thick and thin.
*The book is closed and hidden into Fenrir's bag once more*
-
I've never written in here of my doings in order to save the world. At least not until it is done. I fear I might lose the book and information might fall into the wrong hands. I do feel as if I have to get this off my chest though.
A group of heroes, legendary and upcoming, old and young alike, have embarked on a journey to save the world from the Dragons. It involves releasing an old ally to take control over the dragons as it was before Blood.
We've been guided by a scholar that seems to know a lot of the matter yet has no factual way of accomplishing our goal - yet. That's where we came in and now are on a quest deep in the mountains to find an artifact that plays a key role in all of this.
We had no idea where the artifact lies and still haven't found it, yet I'm certain we are on the right path. We found water where water whould not be and at my leading fell into an ancient cave far deeper below underground than I've ever been. We've figured out escape from here and possibly recovering the artifact, can only be done once four mystic gems are found. I consider them tests to only reveal the artifact to the worthy.
We now lie in the cave, trapped, working on the tasks at hand.
One evening, when the others had gone to sleep I woke up Angela and Alantha to ask for help. I had already turned to Angela before and asked for help with my footwork and she happily agreed to help.
This was my first lesson, started by sparring and ending with a real effort to keep elemental beings off our friends. They had bursted up from the ground, shaking the ground and collapsing caverns. But working together we managed. We slaughtered them and collapsed the volcanic vents from which they came.
I feel as if I'm getting closer to my goal already. Angela was great help and we agreed I have to stick to it, run around in armor to train my physique and spar to see if progress is made.
I'm happy that I'm making progress.
-
Sparring has helped me, I think I'm getting the hang of the footwork. While I still somewhat struggle on certain surfaces, I believe the technique itself is pretty much done. Angela suggested I keep my legplates on, since it would leave my legs to vulnerable and it wouldn't be worth in the long run. With my legs vulnerable, I'd compromise my stance and thus the whole idea.
I consider my training complete and plan to continue practicing alone. I'm very grateful to Angela and I will show my gratitude to her one day. I'm glad she decided to help me and am a bit sorry I can't go out to town and yell about her lessons, since she did great. But.. I wouldn't tolerate the looks nor the laughter. So let it be.
On another note, I've been very busy with helping friends along. I've promised my aid to Connor, whose quest is way too magic oriented for me to understand. Next I'm helping Angela with her quest to save Lor from thievery. Finally and the most mystic of them all, I'm helping Ozy. I'm not going to even try and explain it in words, but the whole situation offers a very interesting dilemma to me.
With the threads between realities ripping or something, I might get the chance to meet my alters from the sides of light and dark. It would be interesting to see what could've been if I had made different choices. It's intriguing, yet might prove too disheartening once the actual moment comes.
-
The dreams have yet to stop. I keep having the same dream all over again, or at least the premise is the same.
I find my way through the darkness to the same two gates as before, one fiery and dark, the other light and holy. The interesting part is that I act different every time. First of all I don't take the maul no more, I leave it where it is and wonder what's behind the gates. Is it destiny, fate or just a mind trick.
Either way while at first I always stayed near the light gate and tried to gain entrance, with the same voice booming over the lands behind the gate: Judgment is mine to deal should I accept it, though it won't be easy. I'm sick of hearing it, it has less and less effect on me every night I dream it.
I'm beginning to have doubts whether the light gate is the right choice, since it seems that it's not a divine revelation. It can't be. If it were, accepting the maul should've ended it. Yet they did not stop. That's why night after night I step towards the fiery gate and with every step nearer I get further away from the bellowing voice behind me. All I hear is silence of mind and the crackling of flames.
I've yet to find out what these dream mean, but whether it has something to do with it or not, I'm feeling.. neglected. I'm feeling less and less connection to Vorax, no matter how much battle I do, no matter how many foes I overcome, no matter how much blood I spill.
It feels... almost strange to do battle without having to worry about doing my part and giving the opponent a chance for fair combat. I'm beginning to understand that if I'm so much better, stronger, deadlier than my foe, he has only two choices: Die or Run.
It feels... good..
-
What do I have to do? Why can't this hurt be through? I'm going head onto something I know I might fail.
My head is thick with thoughts out of my league. Ideas too great for me to achieve, yet the same bane of thoughts that have haunted me for months now, do not leave me alone.
I've encountered my once fellow Voraxians, who I've grown to despise. Their lack of will to break free, their strict view inside the box. I want nothing to do with it no more. I've stopped the prayers, I've stopped the thoughts, I'm breaking free, I won't be held back by divinity no longer.
Although it might be considered blasphemous and dispicable, I'm one step from giving up faith. I won't be held back by the restraints of Vorax.
I'll carve my own path, be it through stone, flesh or fire.
-
Despite my changing ways, I've accomplished things I've partaken. The lumbral are free, bloodfeuds being stopped and my own path - well advanced on.
I've grown weary of acting as I was before. The shackles of my mind are now thrown aside and my soul and heart can run in the direction they wish to. I don't want anything to do with it and no hammer of the divine can stop me from renouncing faith. Perhaps my service belongs to a god, but to which is uncertain. I'd now only accept a deity that truly shows interest in me or my services. No longer will I follow the blind faith of tradition or the restrictive commands of the divine. I wist to be what I am, not someone's toy.
I want to be the one people come to for my abilities not due to my deific belonging. I want to develop and advance as I see fit, not as my forefathers have once framed it to be.
-
*Fenrir sits down and with a sigh he begins to write*
I fear it is time. Ever since the Lumbral were freed, I've grown wearier and wearier. I've taken a dislike to sunlight, I prefer shade over blistering sun. I've begun to miss the time where the sun was hidden.
Yet my mind does not slump. Without the blinding light in my eyes, I ponder on future developments. I've grown more methodical over the last few months. I speak when needed, I command as it should be done. I do not tolerate anything less than perfection and despise a halfhearted attempt of whatever needs be accomplished.
I just returned from Vorax' temple and in my dark robes I was ungreeted nor unrecognized. No word of my actions nor plans have reached the ears of these... followers... blind as bats they are.
I kneeled to the symbol of Vorax and with a few chanting sentences renounced my faith to him. No cataclysm followed. Time will tell if he favors this or not, but it's final. I -will- not follow the path of Vorax no longer. The path towards my own Judgment begins now. Whether it leads me to the gates of the Halls or the gates of the pits of hell, I do not care, I will not faulter from my path and I shall walk on it as I, nobody else, see fit.
*He closes his book and sets it neatly away in his pack. He adjusts his cowl and gloves, eyes his surroundings and with a wink of a smile, he sets off towards town*
-
The feeling of liberation has overcome me, as if a rock has been lifted from my burdened shoulders. Naturally the people of faith can sense something different about me and several Voraxites have drilled their gaze in the back of my head as I walk past them. I only grin and move on.
I've been called Fallen, Unfaithful and Deceiver. I've been called a fool for thinking that Vorax was stopping me. What do they all know? Have they ever challenged the Order with innovation? Have they -ever- tried to stand out from the grey masses? No. Only do they slanter the one's who dare step out against the Faith. Exactly that is what I despise. They think they foresee failure or danger to their precious beliefs, without any insight of the possible advantages innovation may have.
Fools.
-
I have worked further on my path. Despite my quarrel with the Faith, I've taken an apprentice. A female kin, who strives to became a Defender. The only reason I agreed was because of her gender. She has promise and how sweet would it be for me to rub into councils wounds, that a female with -my- training will be the best in their ranks. I've stayed mysterious in my ways and only reveal my intentions to the closest of friends.
I've began to widen the range of my skills. I've learned about camouflage and stealth, when out of armor. I've started to learn a language of the Deep, to have yet another edge infront of my kin and enemies. I've consulted with Runelords to begin to understand the ways of magical artifacts and possibly someday unleashing their runic and magical properties.
My stances have improved, especially the offensive counterpart. I calculate every move and step with pinpoint accuracy. I shrug and dodge as much as necessary, not an inch more. Clad in mithril armor and weaponry, this -fallen- dwarf is the future of kin. They'll see.
-
It once again seeped into my memories, how blatanly I was ignored and left out of the dwarven council. Me, the greatest kin Bloody Gate has and will ever see, left out of the council due to some foolish thought of jealousy and just to try.. and stop me from reaching a higher spot than them.
It only made sweeter the moment, when I set on the path to intercept assassins from capturing Snowtooth, a great white dragon. All the Voraxites fell in the battle, the outcome certainly seemed grim, yet I used every bit of my abilities and opportunities to rise abouve the odds and eventually aside the dreaded Dragon himself, slay the perpetrators. I was granted life when approaching the White and left with a contempt soul.
Where the Faithful fall, the -fallen- remains and overcomes. How bittersweet that must have felt. We'll see whether they dare to insult me again, after I saved their hides and claimed the head of a poisoned Green Dragon. My feats of fury have far overcome their lesser thoughts of me.
Fools.
-
A while has passed and reading my last entries I now see what Kobal meant when he told me, that my biggest mistake was growling in the faces of Voraxians. I was so caught up with my joy of freedom and unrestricted training that just -had- to let it out. I do not regret a single thing I did or said, but the feud has to end. I'll just let my actions speak for my past decisions and then they'll all see it was not the wrong path to choose.
I've had several encounter with various Voraxians and larger confrontations have so far remained peaceful. Though I admit, I still occasionally see their blindness and the way they act so obliviously regarding the future. Yet my power still grows, my technique improves and ever step I land with my heavy foot of dwarven destruction, I can feel the earth rumble under it.
I've also pushed into action the future building of my academy. Where and when is still in the open, yet it will happen. It must. Then everyone can see what I've been showing thus far in the Arena. I've yet to find a match and only once have I been forced to my knees in the past months.
It was when I was on a raid into the Arc tower, their general trapped me and forced me to fight for my life against a neverending flow of ferocious arcs. I stood long until eventually was brought to my knees and spared only for my possible assistance in the future. They want me to help put down the elven spirits on the nearby island. Deaders I can handle.
-
Despite being out of the public eye, trouble does not seem to avoid me. If there's one kinsman I look up to even more than my long gone father, it is Kobal. Yet despite my efforts to be worthy in his eyes, all I get is critique and comments.
I am bound by my word to the Arc general and I will keep to my word - I will cleanse the elven tomb of undead. That's all I said I would do, that is all I will do. Now Kobal, in his own righteousness, has decided to step against me. He is certain that I'm on the wrong side of the tide and he said it out loud - he will fight me if it comes to that. Have I really given him too much credit? Am I still nothing but a young inexperienced beard in his eyes? I don't understand.
I hope it will not come to this, but when push comes to shove, idols fall.
*Fenrir closes his journal with a deep sigh, as he gazes to the stars and mumbles*
You just cannae give meh peace now can ye?
-
How many of my kind can say that they've seen their soul wither away with them still enbodying it? Such sacrifice was asked of me to redeem my ancestral past and save the Peaks from Essrantor. An experience different from any other I can't believe I lived through it - from life to death and back again... barely.
The Losthammers' demise was put to my fault and a spiritual sacrifice was demanded to allow any chance of success in the campaign against Essrantor. It being my only chance of redemption I went ahead with it and time began to pass faster than any living soul could imagine. I was truly undead, seconds seeming like hours, minutes like days and with every blink of the eye I could see a part of my living essence fade away into the cold brisk air of the elven tomb. I could literally see my skin be chewed by the relentless teeth of time, my breath turn into dust and my thoughts wander into damnation.
I urged my companions to hurry and race to the bottom of this damned tomb, but their efforts were in vain, I was degrading and sinking between the pages of history. I can only thank my rigorous training in the past decades, which could have strengthened my resolve and will to last through this horror. Eventually, I was restored to my present and former glory - only the scars of the time passed in my mind, remained. The Losthammer Thane had mercy on the treachery of my ancestors and redeemed me of my past. I can only say that I gained from this whole ordeal.
I gained a glorious ancestry, even though now in ruins, it might be restorable, like Kobal's was. I gained a precious lesson in life's hardships, which no other living soul will ever have a chance to live through. I saw who were my true companions in matters of life and death and most importantly, I didn't have to kill Kobal.
With Essrantor silenced, Kobal and I can remain to be friends and perhaps with my newfound past, he can assist me in making the best out of my lost clan as well. Together our pasts could determine the future.
-
I need to do some soulsearching. What I lived through is something that can change anyone's perspective on life, death and everything between. I feel I need to get out of the chaotic kettle that's been boiling ever since the fall of Blood and the Dark times that befell us. The Dark times were a simpler time for me, I could focus on my goals and survival, the primary needs of any proper dwarf.
To do this, I must cut myself off from everything I know and find something new. Release myself from my shackles that bind me to my relentless duties and tasks. Look for a chance to let my newfound past flourish and benefit from my neutrality and independance from gods and want-to-be-gods.
What better way than to begin finding connections for my academy and, at first, in secrecy, begin to plan its building. One night I pulled a loyal kinsman builder of Stort aside and explained to him my motives and plans. I made certain he knew the gravity and importance of my plans and how important this was to me and why it must be kept secret. I know I've talked about my academy to several of my companions and even rather unknown people, but time tends to make people forgetful.
I've also contacted a few of my fathers old friends back at the Gate, who are curious to hear what I have to say. It's essential that once my academy is built, that it would be used for the right reasons. I haVe plenty to teach and I can incorporate the teaching of other skills through my connections. I will need however bodies to train. To keep Stort safe I need to train the guards, then once I handpick a group of more capable hands, I'll train a unit fiercer, stronger and more resilient than any before.
These men will run under my command and do tasks appointed by me. They'll be the rogue group of unseen fury that follows no god or ruler. We'll be the swift hand of the law and deliver justice no matter if it's for good or evil. This is my vision. Of course to keep things right, I'll lend my services to training of anyone who wants and I deem worthy. Why not help kingdoms and stalwart adventurers gain finesse under my hand.
Glorious years await.
-
Time passes relentlessly away. I see it gnaw at my companions, humans especially. No year goes past for them, without it taking its toll on their appearance, form and spirit.
It is a sad thing to overlook, as humans posess many great values that would prove useful in the peaceful stabilization of Layonara, yet once human leaders approach their most wise and capable age, they soon wither away in to the cold embrace of the earth. Those who fight death, often become corrupt with the negative and evil powers of the land, their soul torn into pieces in the meantime.
Never-the-less, I manage to keep my mind fresh, despite the years passing. I'm but a young dwarf, yet, even though many think of a battlescarred and bearded dwarf as old and fragile as humans are. It seems inevitable and written into the writs of destiny for Layonara, to be constantly threatened by forces who crave supreme power and domination. I truely fear that past days of glory and peace are behind us, behind Layonara.
I believe a key to this restoration is my very own kin. We've fallen from the pinnacle of our technological, cultural and magical peak. Though I'm just one beard, I know and I will try to make the best in restoring this long lost glory. Kobal managed his piece, I can not be any worse now can I?
---
In the meanwhile, I grow agitated by the general fumble surrounding this so-called Dragon Cult. Despite constant attempts of many of my closer and farther friends and acquintances, they grow in power and I fear they'll soon threaten the relative peace blanketing Layonara. Smaller kingdoms and fortified grounds have already slowly fallen to their domain.
Rumours of dragons and halfbloods rising in numbers, readying themselves to march against any who stand in their way. How they manage to get the common folk behind this ordeal astounds me. Are they threatened by force, or perhaps given incentive through protection and wealth of other nearby kingdoms? Whatever it is, I know and have seen it myself, humans often allow themselves to be eluded by promises of wealth and prosperity, power and glory. Even though they'll most likely never see what they were promised. By then it'll be too late.
I've thought much of this and tried to stay on the sidelines for as long as possible. Now, however, I fear that I can spare no more time, I have to get involved, give advice and guidance to the less experienced and younger adventurers who have tried so hard to overcome the Cult.
It's gone on too long, even quarrels between our own sides have arised, regarding outcomes of artifacts important to the security of the lands. Far too much blood has been shed and rumours fall into truth - they march against us, sail the seas to head for the Kingdoms beyond the oceans. The birds have warned us. We must prepare...
-
//After I came back from a hiatus last year, Fenrir always said he had a happening in the Deep that took that long. I thought I'd treat those interested with a story of what really happened. It'll be several chapters long, so bear with me.
The Welcoming Party
Adventurers. Short-lived fools who hunt treasure and fame. There are only two types of people who end up on the path down into the Deep – lunatics and adventurers. Never stopping to settle for the ordinary, these trailblazers push into the unknown until the unknown is what succumbs them. Small rocks break off the cavern’s walls as a lone figure descends into the dark, the glowing spot of light behind him, shrinking into nothingness.
The winds are strong in the cavern, as the very essence of the air you breath changes as you go deeper and deeper. The refreshing scent of life and movement changes into a rotting stench of death and stagnant moisture. The cavern is wide enough for a small party pass, evidently widened through decades of travel – both in and out. The walls are covered with sharp edges of rock and crystal, the ground covered by a faint coat of dust. It’s obvious that someone has passed through here rather recently.
The figure marches towards the seemingly never-ending abyss infront of him. His steps are steadfast and certain, no sense of misdirection or fearful uncertainty. The figure’s worn boots glow with a dim red light as the Al’noth preserves their quality. Moderate squeels of light metal rubbing against metal and leather emits as the figure goes on. Donned in glorious armor of rune-etched mithril, the colors of blue, black and silver glimmer in the few thin rays of light still reaching this hole. A dark flowing cloak, slightly torn from its edges, but still beautifully adorned by runic writings, protects the figure’s back. Handles of finely crafted axes reach out from beneath the cloak, while their blades are covered by a large shield. Seemingly ready for war, the figure marches on, as quietly as his outfit enables him to.
Small forms of fog begin to form infront of the figure as he breathes deeper and heavier. The air gets colder as the surroundings grow darker, soon enough, only the figure’s magical cowl and amulet glow enough to show the way. He moves with prowess, avoiding obstacles in the cavern, which has now grown much more hostile in build. The figure’s eyes hidden under his cowl, it’s clear nothing avoids his vision in this pitch black darkness, his eyes are accustomed to it.
As the path winds down deeper, suddenly, sounds begin to reach the figure. Promptly he slows his stride to deny anything from hearing his approach. The cavern’s path peaks upwards slightly, as a bigger cavern of stone and crystal reveals itself. The warm hum of torchfire gliding softly off the walls and ceiling, the figure peaks his head over the cliffside. His beard scratching on the rocky floor, his face catches some of the light present in the cave, the dwarf appraises the situation.
The cavern is split into two sides, split only by a wide crack in the ground, a seemingly bottomless steep ridge only crossable over a rocky, half-metallic bridge, with gates the height of giants locked in between. A few holes are visible in the outer edges of either side of the bridge, clearly pathways deeper down, but unmarked, dark and damp none-the-less.
It is now clear what was making the sounds that warned the dwarf on his descent – dark elves and large spiders inhabit the cavern, set in camps on both sides of the bridge, in defense of entrances further down and a proper welcoming party to anyone foolish enough to have wondered this far down.
The dark elves are visibly ready to intercept anyone coming to their attention, their elven armors equipped and polished, magical swords sharpened and at hand, they form a group consisting of warriors of many types. Some wear leather with only a few metallic ornaments, but daggers sharper than tiger’s teeth, others are clad in heavy adamantine plate armors, longswords at their sides and helms on nearby rocks. Few wear curious robes of intricate design, thick tomes of scrolls and notes hanging on golden chains by their sides, while some march around, talking their dastardly tongue, declaring statements and symbols of their divines. The spiders are dormant, waiting for their pray, completely tamed by the dark elves.
Counting his adversaries from afar, the dwarf looks for a pathway to the ground floor, trying to avoid any sound or exposure. His heart begins to pound harder and faster, adrenaline rising from the possibility of being seen. Slow and steady he crawls down the cliff to the ground, crouched behind a large enough rock, looking for a way through. He appraises the elves, counts his foes and lets out a small sigh as he swallows hard.
Slowly he reaches for his axe on his back. The glorious work of warfare art releases itself from the dwarf’s back, a razor-sharp mithril axe with a long handle and dwarven design, etched in runes bound in a deep red glow. He leans on the rock with his axe, blade resting on it, while grabbing the second axe’s handle under his cloak. He freezes, waiting for the moment of best assault, on axe head down on the rock, the other ready to set loose on its way to bloody massacre. He crouches deeper.
As his boots dig down in the rocky ground under him, the dwarf pulls the other axe and strikes both axes into the rock infront of him, blades down, and pounces over the rock, leaping as he gets foothold on the rock. Wildly the dwarf’s short feet move as he runs towards the startled elves, caught off-guard by the seemingly foolish attempt of a single dwarf. Clerics begin to cast blessings on the troops, wizards apply their spells, warriors unsheathe their swords and daggers.
The dwarf runs forward, calculating his next move, he spits out a single line of dwarven to declare his war to the dark elves: “Yer time here has passed!”
He reaches the first line of elves and slashes both of his axes apart in a show of power and fury, clearly surprising to the dark elves. Two elves fall to the left, grabbing their stomachs, one to the right, holding his slit arm, the dark elves bark out sentences of command and disdain to bring the dwarf down. Having broken through the first line of defense, the dwarf hunts down the robed and less-armored dark elves, subduing them with little effort.
The dwarf spots a warrior pull the chains attached to the bells near the spiders in an attempt to wake them from their slumber and quickly runs after him. With a quick dash the dwarf runs towards the elf, turning his shoulder in to knock the elf down. As the elf falls towards the ground the dwarf prepares for the final blow, beheading the dark elf with a swift cleave.
Slowly the spiders awaken, one larger than the other, squeeling and scratching the caverns walls and floor. The dwarf turns his back to the spiders, focusing on the remaining dark elves. Most of the elves go down with just a few calculated moves, which block their first attack, forces them on a parry and then overwhelms them with pure might of the axe over the sword. As the dark elves fall one by one, failing to even get blood out of the furious dwarf, the spiders slide and crawl down the cliffside, clearly angered by their awakening, rushing towards the dwarf.
With the last few dark elves put to the ground the dwarf turns to face the rapidly approaching spiders. He quickly decides to switch his offhand axe for a wide shield, settling his pace to resist the incoming blows of the arachnids. The spiders vary in size and ability, obviously of different species. Some smaller ones that have harder exoskeletons and sharp legs, rush straight for dwarf. Some stay afar and launch volleys of spikes towards the dwarf, each sharper and faster than the before. Towering between the smaller spiders is a monstrous spider, thumping in big slow steps, clearly angry and bloodthirsty for the intruder.
The dwarf kneels deeper behind his shield, only the tip of his cowl slightly exposed. A second later the spikes fall down with whining ferocity around him, some bounce off the shield, others just miss him. As the volley ends, the dwarf has barely a moment to get into his battle stance, before having to block the first thrusts from the smaller warrior spiders. The spiders hop around, coordinating with each other to trap the dwarf against the wall, but the dwarf is steadfast. He stands his ground, tumbling from side to side and back to front to avoid the sharp legs.
Once he feels comfortable with his situation, he blocks a strike and goes to work, retaliating without remorse. Heavily armored chitin legs fall off as the axe cuts through them perfectly and without a hitch. Fluids and parts of the spiders’ shells fall down to the ground, making the spot a mess of a battleground. The spiders squeal in obvious pain as they die, until the dwarf clears enough space to lunge forward towards the giant spider and its accompanying spike throwers.
As he runs towards his next targets the dwarf throws his shield at the bigger spider’s head, hoping to distract its vision for long enough to go after the spike throwers. It works, the big one turns away for a moment as its head gets stunned by the blow of the shield. Not wasting any time, the dwarf quickly dispatches the smaller spiders, through swift moves with his remaining axe, while once again reaching for the second. Spikes flying towards him, he dodges as many as he can, but some come straight at him, though surprisingly, causing no harm to the dwarf at all. The spikes deflect off the dwarf as if he was made of metal or rock, no blood is shed.
The second spike thrower falls to the ground lifelessly as the angry giant lumbers over the dwarf, thrusting its feet at him, relentlessly. Rolling around and under the spider, the dwarf spills first blood as one of the spiders feet cuts through his arm. As the leg lodges itself in the ground the dwarf quickly chops it off, freeing his bleeding hand. There’s no time to tend the wound, as the dwarf methodically keeps the spider moving around itself, retaliating to its missed attacks. Minutes pass, the spider falls to the ground lifelessly. Making sure that the spider is dead, the dwarf picks up his shield, wipes it and himself clean with a cloth and prepares to move down through one of pathways. "Worthless..." he mumbles.
-
Betrayers
Numerous caverns follow each other, connected by various pathways. Some are longer and narrower, some shorter and wider. As hours pass the dwarf finds a nook that seems secure and breaks camp. He doesn’t make a fire, but does set down a cloth roll to sleep on and sets a perimeter he can glance on even from his sleeping position. As he drinks and eats, he looks around collectedly, frowning as he remembers why he came down here: “I know I’m close.”
After a nourishing meal, he rolls over to catch some sleep, as a dream of events of the past week quickly begins to haunt his mind.
A week earlier the dwarf in question was near Hilm Castle, recovering from a recent venture in the hostile territory west of the castle. As he starts to clear his camp alongside the lake, he spots a shorter and stockier figure some distance away, approaching from the glens that shield the Fort from the north. As the figure nears him, he sees that it is a dwarf, armored and most likely a mercenary or member of some military organization from around here.
As the mysterious dwarf got even closer it was obvious that he was limping, injured from some skirmish in the recent past. Our dwarf dropped his bag where it was and rushed to aid the newcomer, seeing with every step closer that the older, injured dwarf was on the brink of death, clearly hanging on just to tell his tale of what happened.
“They came... bandits... with skin as dark as the night, their tongue similar but very different... they were dwarves... they took him.” the dwarf muttered, with desperate gasps of breath divided between the words, clearly speaking from his final few breaths.
The dying dwarf’s head resting on our dwarf’s arms, he inquires: “How many? And who did they take?” he wipes blood off the dwarf’s face as he awaits an answer, clearly both saddened and angered by the suffering of the apparently innocent.
“Eight. They raided us... took everything... burned the rest... they took... my son...” he once again clenched his stomach in pain and let out a sigh, evidently close to his untimely demise. “Great Forest, North-North-east... hurry...” as he lets out a final sigh of breath and lifelessly drops his head on the dwarf’s hands.
Without a moment to waste, the dwarf ran back to his belongings, packed up quick and headed for the settlement, the body of his dead kinsman over his shoulder. He quickly gave the body to the lawmakers nearby and headed out north, in search of the smoke emitting from the house.
“They’re dwarves, but with pitch black skin? There’s no mistaking that, betrayers! And if I know those cowards proper, they’ll be running scared back to the deep pit they came from. I’ve got to intercept.” the dwarf thought to himself as he headed straight for one of the more known entrances to the Deep. “Trading young kin now, eh? I am going to kill every last one of you scum!” he agreed with himself as the dream fades away into a nightmarish spiral of different graphic images of the battles that ensued.
The dwarf startles up as he hears his tripwire trigger. Someone’s there! Without any excessive motions he unsheathes his axe and with his nostrils flaring from the adrenaline he warily glares at the shades, waiting for a potential assailant. Words of surprising similarity to dwarven sound from nearby darkness, likely declaring death and demise to our dwarf.
Not understanding, the dwarf waits until suddenly, behind him, a dark dwarf leaps out of the shadows, striking his daggers into the dwarf’s back. The dwarf lets out a sudden yell of pain as the daggers intrude his back, but quickly, with his teeth grinding together grabs the attacker’s neck with his left arm and tosses him over his shoulder, smashing into the wall. Wincing from pain, the dwarf pulls the daggers out of his back and throws them aside, stating in crisp furious dwarven: “You will wish you had never been born, once I’m done with you... Betrayer...”.
Unseen to the eye, the dwarf’s wounds began to close the moment the daggers were pulled out, the pain lessening. The dwarf was unarmored at the time, but the daggers lying on the ground show great wear, as if they’d been used for decades and had not been cleaned once, or maybe they were just pushed through an inch of metal, which ever more likely.
Several feet away from the daggers the dark dwarf collected himself, trying to get back up on his feet, staggering from the concussive blow from the cavern wall. He quickly reveals another dagger from somewhere inside his boot and waves it aggressively towards our dwarf, barking obvious insults and taunting sentences of deep dwarven tongue. The dwarf makes a few quicker steps and suddenly stands right infront of the dark dwarf, deflecting his futile attempt of stabbing the dwarf.
The dwarf painfully twists the dagger out of the dark dwarf’s hand and pushes him against the wall, squeezing the culprit’s neck he asks in dwarven: “The boy. Where is the boy?” The dark dwarf grins and begins to speak in taunting and slithering dwarven: “You stand no chance, you pale excuse of an overgrown Halfling.” The dwarf tightens his clench over the victim’s throat, grinding his teeth, he punches the dark dwarf in the stomach several times and makes pauses to hear a more satisfying answer.
Eventually, feeling that the dwarf means business, the dark dwarf slowly wore down and revealed their destination, but also confirmed the dwarf’s fears – the boy was to be traded as a slave in the Deep. The dwarf tied the dark dwarf up and pushed him off the cavern slope nearby, unaware and uncaring of the dark dwarf’s destiny in the dark. He gathered his things and began to chase the dark dwarven party some distance ahead of him, feeling satisfied he would soon get his chance of vengeance on the betrayers.