This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.
Topics - SiliconMagician
Pages: [1]
1
« on: January 05, 2019, 09:59:45 pm »
Part 1 - The Teacher is Met
Shao Ching Ling stood silently next to the fire. Carefully performing each of the 5 forms of the Mage-Kata in slow motion. Feeling the Al'Noth. Becoming one with it. Probing it's mysteries. Letting himself be taken away by it. He felt the familiar feeling of the Al'Noth in his bones, causing them to throb and vibrate slightly as he breathed out and moved to the next form. He was halfway through the form when..
"Hmph. Nice Dance boy." a nearby voice stated through the darkness of Shao's closed eyes.
Shao opened his eyes and looked to see another elf. Finely dressed in the most noble of clothes, staring back at him with a bemused expression on his face.
"Fancy dances and magic tricks will only get you so far, as in dead." The gruff elf said with surety.
"I do not understand. What do you mean by dance?" Shao asked.
The rich elf did a comically exaggerated rendition of the 3rd form and then broke into laughter at Shao, the sound annoyed him.
"Whoever taught you that didn't understand half of what is really out here. Hit me." the strange elf said with complete confidence, as if going around asking strangers to hit him was part of his perfectly normal day.
Shao hesitated, not sure that he heard correctly. Did this foppish dandy ask him to hit him?
"Hit me!" The elf commanded, harshly this time.
Shao struck out on command, his fist balled perfectly aimed according to the 2nd form and it flew out to connect with.. nothing but air! When Shao looked the elf who had been standing in one place was now several inches to the right. Shao lashed out with a foot and nearly fell over when his foot, which he was sure would contact some kind of target, struck nothing but the empty space where the elf had been standing.
The elf smirked. "A bit of advice lad. The best defense is simply not to be there in the first place."
Shao brought the power of the Al'Noth up and lashed out with a powerful spell, one designed to suck the life force from this arrogant fop and leave him exhausted and weak. The elf didn't even move. He just stood straight as Shao's palm struck him in his chest, which felt like an iron anvil in density. Shao felt the Al'Noth flow through his hand and begin to draw on the lifeforce of the impudent stranger.
With nothing more than a flinch of his breast muscle where Shao's hand was resting, the force of the spell was broken, forcing Shao back a step and then out of nowhere a knife palm struck him in his jaw, sending a prismatic spray of colors through his vision. When it cleared he was laying on the dirt next to the fire. He looked up astonished as the elf merely smirked down at him.
"You have some basic magic ability but that won't get you farther than Port Hempstead's sewers. Come with me if you want to LIVE." and with that the elf turned his back to Shao and began to walk away.
Part 2 - The Arena and A Very Big Orc
Before long, Shao found himself standing next the largest sentient beast he had ever seen. It stood 2 heads taller than he and was at least 3 times as wide as his own lithe frame. It was covered head to toe in platemail, and it's toothy jaw was fixed in arrogant bemusement. A few minutes before the nobly dressed elf had spoken to the orc out in the street, out of earshot of Shao, and then the orc smiled a toothy grin and headed for the arena. Each step clopping as loud as that of a shoed horse on cobblestone as he headed for a non descript door down a side alley.
The elf nodded his head towards the orc and bid Shao follow him. Now the giant orc and the elf(who finally made his introductions as "Glitch", though Shao believed that to be an alias) were facing each other in the arena and Glitch was taunting the giant creature with arrogant words about speed versus brawn. The orc was visibly angered by this, his pig nostrils snorting with the building rage as Glitch continued his insulting speech as if this giant beast was a petulant student who had done something wrong in class and nothing more.
The orc finally bellowed in rage and lashed out with a mailed fist. The wind whistled as the haymaker swung fast and wide, but as with Shao earlier, it touched nothing but air and left the orc off balance. Glitch lashed out with a foot and caught the orc in the chest and knocked it back with a grunt. The fight continued, Glitch passing too and fro with unbelievable speed as the orc swung or kicked and failed. The orc then tried to bearhug the untouchable elf. He grabbed hold and lifted the elf high into the air, locked in tight and squeezed with all his might.
The elf merely smiled and then boxed the orc's ears and followed it up with a chop to the throat and the Orc dropped Glitch with alacrity and backed off. Then, with motions so swift as to be nearly unseen he traced a strange symbol in the air and ended with his upturned palm facing the Orc.
Suddenly, the air was rent by a great sonic boom and the Orc was thrown from his feet completely and landed a fair distance away on the arena floor, tendrils of smoke rising from his armor. There was a grunt and a bellow, then silence as the creature lost consciousness.
Shao stood gape mouthed.
Glitch looked at Shao and smiled.
"What would you do with this kind of power Shao? Would you use it for good? Would you use it to keep order in the universe? Or would you use it for your own selfish needs? Tell me now!"
Shao could do nothing but nod, slack jawed and dazed. Glitch merely smirked.
"I will use these powers to protect others and to advance the cause of order in the world!" Shao forcefully replied. He had found the teacher to continue where his human father could not. To teach him as an elf.!
"Then we begin immediately. Now HIT ME!"
A loud "HA!" came from Shao as he lashed out towards his new master.
..and the training began.
2
« on: February 23, 2010, 01:50:04 pm »
Those of you who may have traveled with my chars Gith or Ragnar before know that they were notorious for being so slow on transitions, and being slow and clumsy in battle.
Well no more! Before I was running NWN and layonara on a 750mhz PIII.. yes thats right.. a PIII at 750 mhz!
Now I am on a brand new 2.8 ghz dell system I picked up today.. so I wanted everyone to know who travels with Gith and Ragnar regularly that I will no longer be holding the group up.
I appreciate the patience shown by the players who often took Gith or Ragnar with them..knowing that they were liability characters.. and I hope that it didn't cause to much aggravation.
i'm looking forward to running NWN and layonara the way it was meant to.. and taking part in further adventures without slowing the rest of the group down.
TSM
3
« on: January 23, 2010, 04:04:33 pm »
I wasn't sure where to post this little ditty of an idea I came up with so I figured I'd put it here and see what happens.
I'm really trying to develop my char Githrin a very real way in game as a certain character who's personal gain of magical knowledge and power trumps all ethical concerns, and as such will sometimes run into a bit of trouble among those who would see an end to the lines of learning that he is embarking upon(total arcane mastery of the undead).
As such, the idea of Githrin acting as a PC "opposing force" towards a party has become very attractive as a player to me.
I have reviewed the rules about griefing and wish to follow the rules to the letter, which is the point of this thread..
Is it possible for me to say, gain a party of volunteers who know full well they are facing a PC opponent and attempting to stop him from pursuing some goal(which can be hammered out at a later time) but the general idea is as follows:
A party of volunteers to number no more than 4 and all to be at least one level less than Githrin at the time of the quest. Will gather and attempt to stop Githrin from achieving whatever goal it is he has in mind. There would be certain rules to ensure that everyone has fun.
#1)Githrin will never act directly against the party with an offensive magic, save summoning of undead or other minions. His activities would be strictly related to a support role, say.. firing off negative energy rays at a group of undead to heal them while they are fighting the party to delay them a little longer so he can escape or some other goal.
#2)Githrin would have one assistant with him, a non wizard class, and at least 1 level less than Githrin is at the time of the quest to assist him in keep track of the party and raising havoc to keep the party guessing and slowed down from stopping him at his goal.
#3)Any other rules or regulations the GM who might be interested in running the quest decides to lay down at the time the quest.
I mainly want to know if this idea has any merit first and general advice.
Thanks,
TSM
4
« on: January 23, 2010, 03:41:10 pm »
To whom it may concern, I have now been a member of Layonara for about 3 months and have two chars that I'm actively working with. My first char, Ragnar Ogresbane was a mechanically driven fighter.. and with him I learned all about RP as it's done on layonara and the lay of the land so to speak. Ragnar now has only 3 soul strands left, so I keep him out except for special quests or at the request of a friend who may want a good fighter by his side. My second char, Githrin, is a far better char in my opinion, both in RP potential, storyline and build. He is a 7th lvl wizard(moving to 8 VERY shortly) and I would like to take the pale master class at lvl 10. I have dilligently kept up on his CDT since his creation and if you look at it you will understand how important it is for this char to at least to attempt to achieve the PrC. So.. to help ease the transition as this is my first PrC attempt, I would like a GM to review my CDT(the first thread is a repost of my submission bio btw) and offer an advice they might on how I may proceed with the transition to the pale master class. I have examined the Pale master class in detail, and I understand that it is very different from a typical mage, for one being the ability to learn new spells on level up stops..however for wizards, the ability to learn through scrolls is still an option, making them very powerful pale masters. I have thought this through from the chars inception, and I would appreciate any advice that I can get on the CDQ process and getting him ready for the the transition. Thanks in advance, TSM http://forums.layonara.com/development-journals-discussion/260322-githrin-twisted-mage.html Above link to my CDT
5
« on: January 17, 2010, 02:24:33 pm »
"Children! Children! Today we have a visitor!", the head mother said as she strode into the room of orphans, clapping her hands to get the children's attention.
Githrin breathed a sigh a relief.. as several of the bigger boys had his little twisted and fire scarred body hemmed into a far corner of the room and were slapping him around and pushing him towards each other in the corner laughing at his twisted facial features and shriveled, damaged right leg. They called him a freak, and said he was cursed by the Gods.
They broke away from him upon the instant the head mother arrived in the room, growling into his ear that worse punishment would await freaks like him later and took a seat on the floor around the head mother along with the rest of the children. All human children between the ages of 5-10 winters old.
The head mother just ignored the bullying, as she really didn't like Githrin very much either. It wasn't anything she could place her finger on.. but there was something disturbing about the way he looked at the world. His eyes had a light behind them... the light of genius untapped. A genius with the potential to change the lives of all those around him, but a genius tainted with the spectre of dark possibilities.
Indeed, Githrin was different from the other orphans. His little body had been terribly twisted and scarred in a fire as a babe. The same fire took away his parents. He had no memory at all of them. His only home he knew for the last 8 winters was here at the oprhanage, under the head mother's care.
He wasn't particularly violent in nature. If anything he had a disdain for direct physical confrontation due to the weakness of his body. But his young mind was always alert, and developed a cunning, after having been brutalized for years by the other children, able to help him deal with most of the bullies.
Luckily for him, a local mage by the name of Fillomar came to visit the children every week, and took delight in the fact that Githrin was gifted, and took it upon himself to teach the boy his runes. It was one of the rare acts of kindness the boy ever knew.
By the time he was 8 he had learned his runes well enough, that when fate looked down upon him, he was ready. One day, after his studies with Fillomar were completed and the young man got up to leave, a small pamphlet fell from his overstuffed bag of scrolls and parchments. Left on the ground unnoticed, the young mage strolled out the door. Githrin cocked his head and looked at it curiously. Then hobbled over and picked it up.
The pamphlet said "A children's guide to cantrips." and showed all kinds of neat diagrams showing strange finger and hand movements, and funny words. At first his young mind, bright as it was, couldn't make sense of it. So he took the pamphlet and left the study room to retire to his cot.
At night, with nothing but a burning stub of a candle he stared at the pamphlet.. he made imitation of the funny gestures and intoned the words. Never anything happening. Until one night, by sheer trial and error, he managed to make a tiny spark from his finger.
His mouth dropped in awe, and then he smiled with glee! The sheer feeling of exhilaration he got that moment would stay with him the rest of his life. He tried it again, and again.. each time the spark got a little bigger.
Later that day.. while playng in the orphanage courtyard. He snuck through the bushes of a hedge lining a wall of the courtyard compound where he had his "secret place". It was merely a space between teh hedge and wall but it was big enough for him to stand in and move around a bit and he loved that space. It hid him from the bullies. he guarded it jealously.
From that space he practiced the spark again and again.. and no one ever noticed the dim flickering behind the hedge in the full light of day.
Then.. the bullies came and found him in his spot. They began to laugh at him, calling him a bushrat and saying that he had a nice bushrat den. Then the biggest boy stepped into the space and punched his fist into his palm and said that he knew just how to hunt a bushrat and because they were completely hidden, he was planning on taking his time doing it.
Githrin began to panic, there was no way out he was hemmed in between the wall and the bullies. His eyes darted left and right, vainly looking for escape. The bully came closer, grinning a crooken, broken tooth grin.
Githrin, out of sheer fear, did the only thing that calmed him. Intoned the cantrip, only this time.. his fear driving the power of the cantrip.. increased its power to more than just a simple spark. It became a jolt..
A jolt that sent the biggest boy flying back out of the bushes to tumble to the ground a few feet in front of them. Knocked out cold. The other boys gaped in shock as they saw the small burn in the center of the boys chest, still slightly smoking. They instantly looked at teh twisted Githrin in fear.. and ran away as fast as they could.
Githrin simply smiled, or rather, the twisted grin that his scarred lips would allow him and stepped out of the bushes and past the unconcious bully. He looked down on him and spit in the boys face.. then hobbled away on his bad leg.
What Githrin didn't know, was that from the patio.. a man had sensed the small blip in the Al'Noth around him and looked to the source in time to see the big bully crash out of the bushes and the other boys run away in terror from the twisted little one that hobbled from the bushes.
He saw the boy spit on his tormentor.. and the man smiled and stepped into the orphanage to speak with the head mother.
Which was why Githrin was shocked when the head mother blew in the door clapping her hands and saving his neck. The other boys knew he'd never use his trick in front of the other children or orphange staff, for fear that he would be cast out and onto the streets. So they chose indoor places to torment him when possible now.
Behind the head mother strode a middle aged man. He had a long beard, finely woven in the fashion of dwarves.. but he was human no doubt. Tall and thinly built.. but he had an air of power around him. The air almost crackled when he walked in. The other chldren shrank back from him. But Githrin didn't.. he looked at the man with awe.
The man took no notice of the other children and strode directly to Githrin and looked down on him and ordered him to stand quite firmly. Githrin did as he was told and looked up at the man, who now towered over him and suddenly the man snatched Githrin up by the chin.
Githrin froze in terror as the man looked deep into his brown eyes and squinted, as if appraising him for sale. Then he released him and turned to the head mother. "Have him ready to leave within the hour.. he will need no belongings but a simple tunic and sandals. I will provide for him the rest of what he will need."
With that he whooshed out the door, his cloak disappearing a moment behind him and the head mother hurriedly grabbed Githrin by the hand and led him away...
That was 10 years ago to the day, and now Githrin stood in the basement level of his master's tower with a broom in his hand. The man had not been some kindly soul, come to help the worst of the worst grow into a meaningful life.
On the contrary, the man had taken Githrin from the temple and put him into a rigorous routine of physical and mental anguish from the moment he arrived at the tower. It was made VERY clear to him that he was nothing but a servant, a slave basically. He had a brutal routine of chores and errands. From keeping the tower clean, to going out into the woods to collect various herbs and roots and other minor components.
The mage would cast invisibilty on the boy and send him on errands into places that were so deadly.. that veteran adventurers shrink back from going there without heavy support. Githrn knew no better, becasue he feared his master far more than the giants and ogres and other things he walked around with impunity.
His genius began to assert itself and his learning skyrocketed. As he grew older and more experienced, the mage would send him out on more errands into more dangerous places. Always protected by the mage's magics.. some of the trips the mage would come along on, and in these rare moments the old man acted with a little civility and caring for the boy.
It was mostly only behind the closed walls of the tower that the old man, surrounded by his dusty and tomes and strange artifacts, would twist into some sort of magically induced rage or anger that constantly threatened Githrin with the pain of the lash, and would reduce him to mere servitude.
The mage taught him simple magics, designed to help him attain the components and things he might need when teh situation demanded it. Githrin studied religiously whenever he could, the magical tomes the mage provided him forming a steady framework on which he could progress.
Now he was 18 and into his manhood and problems began to develop between the two men. The mage became meaner, more arduous in his beatings and rantings. Githrin became older, and his mind and body immune to the constant lashings and verbal insults.
Githrin took to wearing a hood over his face to hide his twisted appearance and the old mage encouraged it, telling him he was tired of looking at his ugly face every day.
Finally, Githrin had had enough of this bully. Just like the bullies in the schoolyard he knew how to even the field now that he was grown and could stand on some sort of even playing field with the evil old man.
He couldn't match the man in magic, no doubt.. but who needs to directly use a spell? Why not trickery?
So he thought and he though and waited, and finally the time came.
The old man had come up with the idea that he was going to turn himself into a lich, bottle his soul up in a jar and live forever. It seemed crazy even to Githrin, who had followed all the mage's crazed plans wherever they carried them.
The problem was the magics the mage needed to learn were so rare as to reach impossibility. So he came up with a shortcut. He research had shown that he could summon and capture a certain extra planar being of great power that had the knowledge he sought. The ritual was dangerous as to be on the verge of suicidal.. yet the mage craved this immortality so strongly he was willing to do anything to achieve it.
Githrin had a plan. On one of his journeys he hobbled into a local temple to one of the God's, he wasn't sure which and didn't care really. There he bought a simple dispelling focus. A rather weak piece of magic indeed, but enough for what Githrin had in mind.
That night, as a raging thunderstorm hammered at teh walls of the isolated tower.. the ritual began.
The mage, having checked every single detail compulsively, finally felt ready to begin the invocation. He chanted rhythmically and spoke funny words that Githrin had never heard or read before.. and he stepped around in a circle around a large pentacle drawn out in the floor.
The Pentacle began to glow a firey red and there was a loud crack as lightning exploded a tree outside the tower. Githrin stared in terror as first a claw appeared in the center of the pentacle, then another.. and another.. and another.. 4 all told came out of the hole and grasped the the floor around them. Then lifted and out of the floor itself lifted a creature of such horror that Githrin recoiled in terror from it sight.
The mage merely shouted out in a glee and stood with his hands on his hips before the creature.. staring at it. It returned the stare and there was a moment of silence as the creature pulled itself to its full 10 foot hieght.
They stood there staring.. and Githrin realized they weren't speaking with voice.. as teh creature did not appear to have any form of mouth capable of speaking. But telepathically.
He knew it was his time.. he reached into his pocket and pulled the dispelling focus from his pocket and swallowed his fear then tossed the little stone at the beast.
The moment the stone hit the magical barrier that encompassed the pentacle and kept the beast within trapped, it exploded with bright sparks and then Githrin could see faint, etheral cracks developing in what was some sort of ethereal dome surrounding the creature.
Suddenly the mage's trance was broken and he looked in terror at teh cracks forming, then at Githrin. "YOU!! You FOOL! You've killed us both!" and with that he muttered a few words and moved his hands so quickly Githrin could not beleive it and suddenly a stream of fire raged forth from the mage in Githrins direction.
Githrun dove for the ground at teh last second as the wave of flames struck just above his head..lighting some old faded and worn tapestries on the wall into flames, which quickly leapt up the wall and began spreading through the volumes of flammable books and oils and flasks.
Suddenly, a terrible laughter erupted from the beast int eh pentacle as it reached out and snatched the old man up with ease with one claw and the old mage's screams echoed off the walls of the tower.
Githrin, terror moving him, crawled across the floor and up the stairs as fast as his bad leg would allow. Terror perhaps aiding his movement.. flames were beginning to fill the doorway and the mage was still screaming and that laughter.. that awful laughter.. filled the tower.
Githrin hobbled/ran for the door.. stopping only long enough to grab his traveling pack he had set up the night before and carefully laid by the door so that he could grab it in a hurry. He stepped out into the thunderstorm.. the mages screams were muffled but still audible in the storm as he broke for the trees and headed uphill towards the nearest settlement.. Ft. Vehl.
Behind him, the first flames broke out the windows of the upstairs parts of the tower as the fire began to consume all within, including the mage and the foul creature he had summoned.
Githrin could still hear the laughter of the being on the wind for quite some time afterward.
6
« on: January 05, 2010, 09:03:19 pm »
*Posted in docks and inns to cities serving Dragon Isles area*
Dear Halfling lass who lost her family in the minotaur cave on Dragon Isle,
In your terrible grief over the loss of your family and friends, you fled the scene into the woods and I was unable to tell you the story of how we came to find them in the condition that you saw.
First I would like to share my deepest sympathies that we were unable to rescue your family from the clutches of the minotaurs that inhabit that nasty hole in the ground.
You came to us out of nowhere in the deepest woods by the cave, asking for our assistance and we rendered it as best we could. Being only I and my priestly companion Lucia Drake..
It was a nasty fight to the bottom of the cave, the issue was nearly in doubt several times as we cleaved our way through them in a desperate attempt to get to your family in time.
As we hacked the minotaur chieftan down, and his body fell at our feet. We sensed something was not right.. we saw a glow behind a rock. I went around it and unfortunately found your family already on the spit.
I know these are hard details to hear, which is why I told you not to look at the bodies.. the condition that they were in. But I thought that deserved to know that we did the best we could.
After that, I hefted your family and bore them upon my own shoulders.. heaving with the weight, and we managed to hack our way back out, the minotaurs by this time quite angry at having thier meal stolen from them. They bellowed and cursed us as thieves.. apparently it never entered thier dull minds that these creatures had family and were not mere meat to be placed on a spit.
I wanted you to know that your family was buried on the hill next to the cave, facing the rising orb. And my priestess comrade provided the full blessings necessary to appease the Gods and allow your family to rest in peace.
My deepest sympathies to you dear lass on the loss,
Ragnar Ogresbane
7
« on: December 24, 2009, 11:35:41 am »
Bards travelling the roads in the area around Ft. Vehl have been telling tales of a party of brave adventurers besieged within the walls of camp in the Gloom Woods along with Riam and his men.
The tales speak that a great evil befell the Gloom, as an army of undead, led by a dark elf cleric, besieged the camp where brave Riam and his men held in check as best they could the undead scourge.
Meanwhile, in Vehl. A party had gathered by mere chance on the roads outside of Vehl and Moreg, brave gate guard of Vehl, informed them of mysterious rumors of unusual numbers and types of undead in the gloom seen recently.
Under the leadership of brave Roferien clergy, the party plunged into the Gloom to investigate the rumors and were supposedly beset by undead in numbers so great that they had to hack a path through the tides of undead to reach Riam and his men.
The tales then continue to say that on a small nearly barren hilltop the party found itself in a desperate last stand battle against hundreds of zombies and other foul undead.
The party, standing shoulder to shoulder and back to back, were surrounded on all sides.. the screams of the already dead, and those who wished not to join them, echoed throughout the forest.. bringing even more undead to the scene.
There was mention of a great warrior, with a great sword larger than a man, cleaving great gaps in the ranks of the undead. Completely surrounded on all sides.. wading through the throng dealing final rest to the dead. Body parts flew in all directions as his he desperately cleaved them from thier owners merely to stay alive.
Back and forth, the battle flowed across the lonely hill top.. often the party would split.. 2 men to battle dozens of the horrid beasts in a desperate struggle to prevent them from ambushing the party from behind while the rest held back the main body of the undead horde.
Some verses sing of a great guardian mummy being seen in the deepest parts of the woods, commanding powerful magics that ripped the soul from one brave adventurer and left the rest of the party to carry his soul-torn body back to camp to lick its wounds and come up with a new plan of attack.
Finally, the tales record that a dark elven priest was reportedly responsible for the uprising, and was put to the sword.
8
« on: November 21, 2009, 03:23:57 pm »
*NAILED TO THE DOOR OF THE INN IN KRANDOR*
To Whom It May Concern,
It was probably quite distressful for you to discover that the several head of cattle that were rescued by a party of adventurers, including myself, on the night of the Tsunami from the Krandor Paddock and placed in the meadow to the side of the road for safe keeping from the floods were missing.
Therefore I felt it proper to post this, my sworn affidavit, of the events I personally witnessed that day in regards to your livestock so that you may approach the proper Krandor authorities for reimbursement of your cattle.
On the day in question, I and another adventurer friend of mine were returning to Krandor after a very long and expensive trip to Dregar to purchase a pack oxen.
As we were coming down the Krandor road, I stopped at the bridge right next to your herd of cattle and turned to my friend, who was leading his brand new, and heavily laden oxen behind him.
I said "You must be careful here, do not step off the road."
My friend replied "Why?"
At that very moment, as the words were leaving my lips, his pack oxen, for inexplicable reasons known only to it. Stumbled off the road and into the bushes along the side, where unfortunately for it, a rather nasty assassin vine sprout has been known to lurk.
The vine indeed was lurking in the brush off the side of the road waiting for just such an opportunity and instantly pounced on the poor beast.
I pointed over my friends shoulder and said "That is why, your ox."
He looked over and saw that by this time his oxen was completely wrapped up in vines and bellowing and fighting for all it was worth, slowly having the life squeezed from it's body.
He cursed wildly, drew his sword, and despite my many warnings that such a creature was far more deadly than it looked and that his oxen was for all intents and purposes, dead already and to leave it. But he plunged into the bushes wildly and made an attempt to hack the beast free from the deadly vines.
The vines instantly dropped the oxen's now dead body and lunged for my friend, wrapping him up in a matter of seconds and killing him even faster than it had killed the ox.
I then watched, terror stricken, from the bridge as the vine, apparently not happy enough with killing a large ox and a brave if foolish adventurer. Shot across the road in front of me and began entangling your cattle and murdering them one by one. It was only a matter of a few seconds, and before the minute was up an ox, a man, and several cattle were down and being dragged back into the bushes by the vines to be consumed.
The vine, then apparently still unsatisfied with its body count, began creeping toward ME at a rapid pace.
I was in no physical shape to take on such a creature after my long journey and having watched its murderous ways, I turned tail and rain for Krandor, vines snapping at my heels in an attempt to grab me up.
I screamed at the top of my lungs as I approached the krandor gate and as I ran into town with the vine, still hungry apparently, coming after me and it then decided that one of the druids in town was a better target.
The druid kept his cool, destroyed the vine within a few seconds.
You have my sympathies over the loss of your livestock, and my apologies for my friend's clumsy ox.
If I were you, I'd petition the proper authorities for neglect on leaving such a dangerous creature just outside the walls of town for such a long period, and I beleive they should reimburse you for the loss of your cattle. There is however, no reimbursement for my poor friend, and his ox.
Sworn by me this day to be truthful in all accounts,
Ragnar Ogresbane, Adventurer, Self proclaimed "Wanderer of Mistone"
(OOC Comment: yes..this really did happen IG and it was one of the most hillarious things I ever witnessed or experienced in ANY game ever. This sort of thing could only have happened here on Layonara. Kudos to all the GM's and coders who designed this world so well that the very monsters can sometimes surprise you with very intelligent cunning.)
I
9
« on: November 20, 2009, 01:19:58 pm »
Ragnar peered over the sheer cliff, staring down into the dark, snow encrusted valley below. 2 massive ogres, bigger than any he'd seen in the past. Were marching down the valley, stopping every now and then to sniff the air, and kick at a snowdrift. A big, blue skinned one, stopped suddenly listened intently. Then plunged his huge hand into a drift, rummaged around a second, then pulled what appeared to be a hare or rabbit of some kind out of it. In a moment, the little furry creature was gone, down the ogres maw.. a mere snack to such a hulking beast.
The other, slightly smaller monster. Merely looked on in jealousy that HE did not find such a snack in the barren wasteland of sheer cliffs and rocky gorges. A land so cold, it ate through the thickest of cloaks and within minutes froze hands and feed solid. Making them feel heavy and numb.
The cold seemed to not bother these ogres however, and they must be well fed on average, given thier bulk and muscle mass.. Ragnar shook his head and wondered how he'd get past them, when suddenly two more arrived from further up the valley. As the other two, they simply meandered around the valley floor, picking at rocks and a few blasted stumps, trying ot find what little subsistance could be had in this waste.
He thought of his general situation, having joined a party of fools similar to he to go "looking for resources" in the Hammersbound peaks to donate to Hempstead for the rebuilding...
Instead it was a nightmare of frightful cold, huge mountain giants in forts that would crush a man into nothing more than a splatter on the rocks.
Exhausting and dangerous climbs up and down high peaks.. desperately working their way through the high passes, and fighting off the horrid beings that inhabited the valleys of this land.
Finally, his body wracked with exhaustion, cold and hunger. Relented to the fact he could go no further at that time. He bid the party a farewell in Lyn.. high atop a mountain peak so deep in the Hammersbound even veteran adventurers in his party were getting lost on the switchback trails and cliff faces.
When Ragnar awoke, he made his way out of the inn, and considered his options. He had a general idea how to get out.. but getting past the beasties in the road were a virtual impossibility. However, he would try.. separate adn draw off those that he couldn't kill in groups.. which was pretty much everything.
He set off.. clinging desperately to the side of the mountain, carefully threading a set of ice covered stairs so ancient, that they were little more than foot and hand holds in the side of the mountain. Worn away from erosion.
He proceeded on ward.. working his way down several narrow passes in the rock, and crossing a couple half frozen streams moving down the mountains.
There he came to the current spot he found himself.. staring down into the valley.. he could see his destination jsut on the other side of the valley.. He was getting closer to where he needed to be.. so close..
He looked down, and was just considering what to do at that point when the wind shifted.. and luck deserted him.
One of the ogres.. seemed to have caught wind of him for sure. It stopped.. sniffed at the air and turned around. Scanning ever higher.. Ragnar shrank back a bit.. but stood out like a sore thumb no doubt in the snowy surroundings.
The ogre took off at a run.. charging for him.. it grabbed and scrambled at the icy side of the cliff and worked its way up at him. He back up from the edge and drew his sword.. nature had decreed that he fight for his life atop this cliff.
The beast bounded over the edge and came swinging and spitting. Ragnar ducked, and side stepped... the ogre came lunging again and ragnar blocked the creatures weapon, a hammer or axe..he couldn't be sure.. and riposted with a long swing of his longsword. The weapon bit, and a spray of blood was thrown out on the virgin snow around them.
They circled..the ogre favoring the side Ragnar had hit.. and then it came again. They battled onward.. stroke after stroke.. the sheer thrill of battle filling Ragnar.. he roared a mighty cry and drove forward.. running the beast through at the heart.. It cluchted at the blade.. trying to dislodge it. Ragnar pushed as hard as he could but still the creature's strength was easily double his and it pulled the blade out and pushed him back.. before it collapsed onto its knees and fell.. the pool expanding into the snow from beneath its body.
He fell into the snow and retched.. then slowly stood up and peeked over the edge. The other 3 had miraculously avoided hearing hte fight high up the cliff face, and were continuing thier behavior of scrounging.
The two most powerful ogres were off to his right.. further down the valley..it formed an L with him at the point where the 2 sides of the L meet. They were no threat to him.. but he at teh top of the L where the entrance to the tight pass he needed to get through.. was another ogre the same as he had just bested.. he thought about it, drew his bow.. adn let fly.
The arrow arced gracefully down into the valley, striking the creature in the shoulder..the distance and weak make of the arrow did almost no damage. but it got the creatures attention. It repeated teh mistake of the first.. charging headlong up the cliff face to its doom.
Two down, two to avoid. Ragnar watched as they meandred down the valley and out of sight.. he quickly took his chance and worked his way down to the valley floor and ran across it to the narrow gorge and ducked between its massive walls.
It was dark there.. and cold. But it was safe for the moment.. he threaded his way along, carefully looking over his shoulder.. the ogres hadn't returned.
He got to where the pass turned right suddenly.. and he peeked around the corner and cursed. Two more ogres.. blocking the way out of the valley. They meandred at it's entrance.. and it dawned on him that he had fallen into a trap.
The ogres were smarter than he gave them credit for. The 4 he had passed, had apparently been given the task of sweeping prey out of and down the narrow gorge he was in, so that the others waiting at the entrance could snatch it up, and Ragnar was now the prey caught in the trap.
He cursed quietly and made his way back down the valley, hoping to perhaps backtrack and find another way, when he got near the entrance he had just come through however.. the two ogres he left unmolested behind him had returned, and were marching up the valley again, back towards where he now was.
Now he was worried.. trapped between four very hungry ogres.. and nowhere to go.
He turned once more, only to find that one of the guard ogres had walked up the valley.. and was coming around the corner. He quickly ducked behind a large rock and watched as the creature, alerted perhaps by the scent of the intruder in the pass, slowly scanned the narrow pass.
He knew he was in trouble.. and made a gamble. Ragnar drew his weapon.. said a short prayer, and charged the beast, hoping its mates were to far away to hear.
The battle raged on, and it was down the wire. When it was finished, Ragnar and the Ogre both lay on the ground, bloody.
Ragnar stirred however, and drew himself up. He bandaged his wounds the best he could. The extreme cold helped, it froze the blood in his wounds and closed them almost instantly with a hard, frozen clot. Nature could give strange blessings at times.
Ragnar peeked around the corner.. one left in his way to freedom. He came around the corner, roard loudly and charged...
10
« on: November 17, 2009, 05:48:39 pm »
Ragnar Ogresbane(formerly Uhtred Ragnarson) stood on a rise in the fields outside of Port Hempstead, looking towards the city.
His vantage point would normally allow him to see over the city walls into the streets proper, were it not for the blasted rain and fog that hung perpetually over the city ever since the tsunami wiped out a good portion of the Mistonian coastline.
The terror of that night came back to him. He had been in the woods south of Krandor, tracking down an ogre band that had waylaid a group of travelers just hours before, killing the leader of the group and forcing the rest to flee for thier lives toward Krandor, all made it.. except one elderly man who wasn't paying attention..stumbled off the road and was snatched up by the sprout of an assassin vine. His screams only served to panic the group once more, and they ran into Krandor seeking some assistance.
There Ragnar stood, looking for a lost gold coin among the knee deep muck that was the town of Krandor these days, when the crowd bowled him over, each terrified citizen stepping over him and pressing him into the foul, viscous mud. Were it not for his armor, the weight of the crowd would have killed him. He nearly drown in a puddle as it was.
When he managed to extricate himself from the mire, he hollered at the people to slow down and explain what happened. They told thier tale and he immediately set out to find the creatures.
After the aforementioned denizens were efficiently dispatched, the weather turned quite foul. The rain suddenly went from a light spatter to a downpour in a matter of seconds. The wind picked up and the trees splintered around him, huge branches crashing the ground as the gale blew through his helm, whistling loudly and making him deaf.
He danced right and left, avoiding timbers as they fell with as much frequency as the rain. On he ran down the road, finally making it to the front gates of Hempstead. He opened the gates, stepped inside the portcullis and was on his way into the deliar temple to get dry when a crowd of citizens, thier faces pale with fright, children in thier arms, were running towards the gate screaming at the top of thier lungs.
"RUN! RUN! THE DELUGE IS COMING RUN!" and Ragnar found himself swept up in the mass of flesh as the terrified crowd ran for high ground. He turned and ran with them, looking back in time to see water crashing down the avenue leading from the dock district. The water was dark, and angry. Filled with debris and mud of all sorts. Bodies as well.. bloated and dead. Even worse, the ones who were still alive, clinging to whatever flotsam they could, screaming to the Gods above to save them from the sucking foam.
He was literally expelled from the gate by the bodies pressing from behind and he ran for the hempstead fields. The sounds of the water filling the courtyard inside the city was echoed and amplified by the walls. It sounded as if a giant drain had been opened, the giant sucking noise accentuated by the cracks and pops of timbers being splintered into toothpicks, and the continued screams of the doomed echoing into the night air..
Those screams haunt his dreams on occasion. He imagines it would be what going to one of the hells sounds like.
On he ran, as he looked back the wave crashed through the gates, heaving the two gate guards off thier feet and carrying them some hundreds of yards down the road before they were finally, miraculously, deposited onto a small rise, where they managed to climb up and weather out the flood.
The rest was a blur of fear, hunger, exhuastion, and the dead and dying as Ragnar assisted as best he could in rescue efforts in the immediate aftermath of the disaster. Once they people that could be immediately helped were herded either to the fields or the tower academy, Ragnar collapsed in a dry, barely standing portion of the Scamps Mug and fell fast asleep.
The next morning, Ragnar stood up and waded through the disgusting floodwaters, now made quite foul by the effluent from the flooded sewer systems. He made it the gate, and made his way to Hlint, where he booked a new room in the Wild Surge Inn(ironic isn't it?).
Soon he was back to work again however, as the recent flooding had flushed all sorts of foul creatures out of thier stench filled holes and out onto the roads. Many a time Ragnar would pass the stripped and naked bodies of unwary travelers and pilgrims tossed into the bushes on the side of the road.
Now, Ragnar patrols the roads often when moving from point a to point b. Often, should you look to either side of the road, or listen closely you will hear him butchering some evil beast and releasing it's soul from the mortal coil to bond with whatever dark god the beasts follow.
Keep an eye for him.. but if you bring up Hempstead.. do not be surprised if he gets a stare that looks a thousand yards long.. and keeps the conversation short and to the point.
11
« on: November 12, 2009, 12:22:38 am »
Uhtred crouched in the bushes on a stormy night on the outskirts of Krandor. His squinted through the visor of his helmet as water ran in torrents over him. Washing away the hours of road grime he had aquired getting to this place.
He was a pauper, no doubt. He was adorned in a very tarnished suit of copper half plate, and carried an equally tarnished copper blade. But it was sharp, oh was it sharp. It hacked through ogre flesh quite easily.. which was what brought him here on this stormy night.
Through hours of patient watching. Uhtred began to notice certain behaviors among the ogres that he took advantage of to allow him to hunt them efficiently, and rather safely.
For one, he prefered to hunt on rainy nights. The ogre's vision was often poor. Poor enough that he could sneak quite close to one without it noticing he was there. Close enough for a killing blow on the first strike.
But he had to patient. Strike to soon, and he'd have 3 or more of the beasts on him in an instant, if one happened to be a mage....
He shook these thoughts from his head and peered deeper into the woods. Trying to look through the drops of water that ran down his visor. It was like trying to look through a waterfall.
Then the wind shifted and he caught the familiar odor of the creatures. A foul stench that was so awful as to cause horses to shy away, and any sane man.
Uthred was sane, no doubt. But he was also poor. Work was slow in coming, so to make ends meet he would rob the beasts on the side of the road, who in turned scavenged off the inexperienced and unwary... travel to far from the road.. and you'll find yourself in a goblins cooking pot or worse.
Once, while foolishly creeping through the Brech Mountains outside Fort Vehl, Uhtred stumbled across a pack of enraged Yeti. The creatures roared adn charged, and Uhtred decided the better part of valor was at hand so he ran for all he was worth.. he made it back to Fort Vehl quite safe if winded.
This time would be different. The first Ogre faded into view through a mist. It lumbed back and forth, checking the various bushes and trees in the area. Sniffing at the air, looking for any sign someone was intruding into it's territory.
Suddenly, a second one appeared. Farther to the right and by the shallow creek that ran through the area. It cross the creek and lumbered off into the mist.
The first ogre, a smallish brute. One of the younger, weaker ones no doubt. Grumbled something and then stopped.. it sniffed the air.. growled and turned its gaze directly on Uhtred, hiding within the bushes.
The beast howled and charged forward carrying a huge axe. Uhtred was ready in a moment and sprang to his feet. "You are no match for me!" He screamed and charged at the beast, his face, now bearing a few scars of its own, was as twisted and angry as the foul beast that looked down on him in awe as his blade swung forth and opened it's belly. It screamed in pain and fell onto its back with a thud.
Uhtred quickly searched the rags the creature was wearing. No luck.. empty. Suddenly he heard a snap, and looked to his right. The other, much larger ogre was returning. Perhaps he heard the commotion a few moments ago. He crouched down next to the body and waited patiently..
This one was different. It wasn't a juvenile. It was a full head larger than the one he had just dispatched and the look on its face was one of pure murder. It know something was wrong, and was scanning in all directions.. looking for the source of the noise in the rain dampened forest.
Uthred decided to sneak around it onto the road where he could get it into the open and fight it on his own terms, and headed in that direction. His attention was focused solely on the ogre... moving around in the bushes just yards off from him. He didn't see an even greater danger lying just in front of him until it was almost to late.
He turned in time to look and see a terrfying sight. Assassin vines! Outside Krandor!? He was shocked, and scared. It reached out for him.. making some awful noise, but he managed to dodge it and run through the thicket. Somehow they missed him and he was out on the road, breathing heavily from fear. He looked instantly to his left down the road, for the ogre was still out there bu twas now out of sight.
He caught his breath and patched up a wound, then began stalking down the road towards the stand of trees the ogre was last seen lumbering into. The rain had stopped by now.. and an eerie silence replaced the thunderstorm.. water dripped off the leaves and soaked him as he passed by.
Then it came into view! It lumbered across to his side of the creek and paused. Uhtred quickly hid behind a large tree. Peeking around it side to see what the creature was up to.
It looked around towards the road and then something caught its eye nearby to Uhtred. Perhaps he had made a noise of somekind, but it definately was angry. It let out a roar and raised it's weapon high in the air, then ran for the tree Uhtred was cowering behind. He waited until the beast was right on the tree, then sprang from behind it and drove his blade deep into the beasts abdomen.
It howled in pain and fell back, clutching at the deep wound just above its navel. It then looked up and a twisted, black toothed grin crossed its lips. It then charged again, swinging its weapon wildly. Uhtred ducked it, then returned the blow, striking the beast in the shoulder. It recoiled and he backed up onto the road.
The beast came again, and the brawl continued. Stroke, counterstroke, followed by movements and feints. Uhtred backed away and downed a potion of healing and the warmth spread thru his body.. then he howled a the creature his own fierce warcry and charged for the killing stroke.
The beast was ready and caught Uhtred as he was midswing, knocking him back and wounding him again. He shook his head and charged in again, determined to finish the beast once and for all.. he swung his weapon with all his might and felt his blade bite into the thick, knotty flesh of the creature.
Blood pooled up around it as its life force was ebbed out in moments, and it fell to the ground. A limp, lifeless corpse..
Uhtred checked the body and was disappointed to find he had gone through that trouble for nothing. The bodies were empty.
He quickly turned back down the road and headed to Krandor.. he needed a rest..
Pages: [1]
|
Forums
Show Posts