OrderRankar feels he has erred...feeling the resolve of his patron (though he is not quite sure of this consciously) he withdraws from the stone with no resistance offered.
After a small moment, the stone itself begins to turn to dust, and blows away on a cold wind. He feels that whatever magic was here is gone forever, it's gift spurned-for good or evil, it's like will never be seen again. And, while the stoic Kasar will never know exactly what he might have gained, he does feel stronger in will-if not in arm.
Now, he approaches the Western stone. The power of reflection...
His hand fits perfectly into the slot upon it's face, just as before-as if it was made for him, and him alone.
The world dims, and he closes his eyes as if to sleep...but this is not a sleep he would wake up from, somehow he knows, and when he opens them again he is standing back in his adopted home. The smell of the old woman's bakery, sweet and cloying to his own senses but he remembers it vividly. The steady beat of the waves on the nearby white sandy beach, like a living heartbeat. The feeling of excitement as he opened a new book. He had no trouble sleeping since he has come here.
A momentary pause. A vision? A memory brought to life?
Or another chance?
...
The ringing of a smiths hammer, from beyond eternity. Teacher and mentor beside him. An old and wise man, an old soldier. Rankar sometimes reflects that while he as a Kasar is much stronger, he cannot forge the metal as well as him. There is a certain harmony and order he lacks..Rankar has only ever called him mentor, and the old man has ever only called him Kasar. Perhaps they are beyond the need for names.
"...Kasar." He says, not turning from honing the bearded axe before him. Not sparing an ounce of concentration. Most of these weapons arm the local fishers and milita, who are often beset by ocean monsters and pirates.
"The offer came again. I do not pretend to know all the ways of your people, but from what I understand if someone sends you a shield and silver torque, they want you to fight for them, am I right? They were addressed from one who calls herself a Warskaldr-one named Brunhi. From which I understand is something a poet, crossed with a warlord.
Please, correct me if I am wrong. Even at my age, I've got things to learn."His humility would shame many a Kasar to honesty, and yours if an already honest and forthright race.
He is correct, though. Brunhi is known as a fighter renowned for victory after victory. She leads a clan of free Kasar that travel the seas as their people did the grassy plains-without fear. A peerless strategist and a ferocious killer-some call her a mercenary, but Kasar have no word for something as base as that. She is, like him, able to read and write-one of the few who can, and her own skills far surpass his own. She prefers to write riddles, though, questions with looping logic that make one question long held beliefs. They say she may one day change things, for your people...You know a shield is a sign of offering allegiance in defense of a clan. The Torque can mean different things-a promise of wealth, of prosperity, or safety. Silver in particular is often used as to entice a marriage offer, but Rankar cannot know if it was literal or metaphorical. To the Kasar, they are often one and the same.
Rankar knows the warband that would take him in would not do so merely for his strength and his untrained martial skills. He is intelligent in the ways of men, and many already have noted his skill working weapons and armor-not to mention tutorship of one of Humankinds former legends on the battlefield. For a clanless wanderer such as he to be offered a position...it would be be the greatest honor, to accept.
Yet, he did not. He gad wished to stay in his village in peace, and he sent back the shield and the torque with a short apology. He never heard from her again...and yet, he wonders now...here.
Here, and now. He is fashioning himself a small blade he will give to a human child named Caellach, he knows because he did, he recognizes it. Caellach was never cruel, not to him, or anyone else. He wanted to defend his family and his village. Rankar remembers seeing Caellachs hewn body as he ran away from the village that horrible night.
A small blade clutched bravely by his side.
A pause. What if he never gave the blade to the boy? Would he have escaped instead of trying to fight? Could things...change? Is this like a dream he cannot change, or is there deeper magic?
Or perhaps is some sort of test...if he abandons his village, what comes to pass? Is it inevitable? His fate? Could he save them??
A million questions, like sparks that fly when running a sword over a grinding stone.
Rankars tutor silently continues to hone his axe, using his thumb to measure the rapidly cooling edge.
His choices are always only his own, here and always.
Tier I
HP: 30/30
Combat: 1 die
Action: 1 die
Magic: 1 die
Skills and Traits: Blood Spurned/50% to gain +1 to rolls to resist magical compulsion or enchantment
Equipment:
Steady Food Supply Old Smithing Tools Notebook and Quill Northern-make Barbed Iron Spear *equipped* Loose Iron Ringmail Shirt *equipped* Iron Utility Knife Known Spells: None
---
Ramus Thirdfallen [6]
The man rows faster than you thought he could, and the boat slumps up onto the muddy shore easily. All aboard disembark verily!
As you try to catch your breath, Albrecht politely taps you on the shoulder.
"I'm sorry it came to this, brother. But"
"Ramus, I think we should get out of here."You turn around to see what he's looking at...and you notice the river is now boiling with a horde of thes dark shapes. At least a hundred, you could guess, but you'd probably be off.
They are all coming toward your small party.
Needless to say, a rapid departure is necessary. But which way? The village is not too far off...and they might need to be warned...but overland would be safer, at least for you...
As you ponder this, you begin to feel something very unpleasant. Your feet....you can't move your feet. As if someone stuck to the spot.
And there is a small voice deep in your mind...your sisters voice...it makes you tired, and sad to hear her voice. You are not sure what is happening but you are growing weary.
"I'm sorry brother, for everything. Please just lay down and rest. It'll all be over soon, I promise. I could even sing to you to sleep, like you once did to me...let me help you to finally rest...no one deserves it more than you..." Her voice is as sweet and innocent as ever, and you can hear it as clearly as if she were standing next to you, whispering in your ear. How could you ever think that she did those horrible things? You love her...
Somewhere far away, Albrecht is shaking your shoulder insistently, near panic, the watery horde approaching...and there is a small light, somewhere close by. But that's far...far away...and time is slowing down.
Somehow you feel your sister is communicating with you, and...you could talk back.
AlbrechtTier 1 Warmage
HP 15/15
Combat: 1 die
Magic: 2 die
Action: 1 die
Skills and Abilities: None
Equipment:
Islander Hearthwood Staff *equipped* Warmage Raiment Known Spells:
Freezing Swords/Add a a +1 damage Ice enchantment to up to five allies weapons in an area, lasts one battle. Difficulty 4
Mending/Heals 1d6 Damage, Cures weaker poisons, diseases, stops bleeding. Difficulty 3
Force Bolt/An arrow of physical force potent against unprotected foes. Damage 1d6, difficulty 4
CurnrowTier 1 Swashbuckler
HP 25/25
Combat: 1 die
Magic: 0 die
Action: 2 die
Skills and Abilities: None
Equipment:
Islander Steel Cutlass *equipped* Mercenary Leathers Known Spells:
None
BoatHP: 20/20
Combat: 1 Die
Skills and Abilities: Object you are floating on, cannot attack
Tier I
HP: 30/30
Combat: 1 die
Action: 1 die
Magic: 1 die
Skills and Traits: None
Equipment:
Steady Food Supply Family Painting *glowing* Street Clothes Islander Iron Scimitar *equipped* Leather Armor and Hooded Cloak *equipped* Iron Bootknife Known Spells: None
---
Solbryn Tylos feels the Harpy finally grow silent and pensive. She also feels some movements as she eats the small piece of jerky.
"...I didn't want to hurt you, just thought it would be funny...and, thank you for the jerky...and keeping me safe." She says fussily.
Solbryn is glad for the silence, for once.
...
The smoke trails continues to rise in the sky from the South, and now Solbryn cocks his ears and believes she can hear faint music far...stringed instruments...and singing. It is so faint it might be the wind, or an insect...if it weren't for the equally faint laughter echoing along with it. It has a harmony to it that strikes Solbryn as distinct from a mere musucian on a street corner. In what way, she cannot tell.
He knows it's some sort of sign of civilization. But, murderous bandits laugh and play guitars too.
Either way, the road beckons on, and with it a multitude of choices.
Tier I
HP: 30/30
Combat: 1 die
Action: 1 die
Magic: 1 die
Skills and Traits: None
Equipment:
Dwindling Food Supply Strange Necklace Worn down Clothes Explorers Kit and Sundry
Strange Fruit
Mini-Harpy
Jungleland Cleaver*
Rhinox Hide Armor *equipped*
Iron knife *equipped*
Known Spells: NoneOOC: Sorry for the delays, I've been feeling pretty bleh lately. Like, ugh, sick and miserable. No fun.
Author
Topic: Dualism - Game Thread [Round I: Spring] (Read 11203 times)