My name is Artha. I have treated the casualties of warfare for many years, working as a doctor, in and about the human populations near the southern ocean in a kingdom known as "The Honest Kingdom". One of the more suspicious titles I've seen adopted by the mortal human races.
Working as a doctor was profitable but boring. Occasionally, the wounded soldiers brought tales from the battlefield, and some of these were truly fantastical. One soldier, nearly dead from loss of blood and limb, whispered to me of a mysterious weapon, an artifact blade, and how he had seen it last in the hands of some adventurer, somewhere north of here, near the swamps. He then died, but his words echoed in my mind as I returned home that night.
I was a doctor, but I had my drives like any other.
I couldn't let this go - so I quit my role, sold my abode and changed the coin into a iron spear, adventuring gear, and a large bag of onions. That night, with my companion dog Egu, we set off to the north.
man Elf's best friend!
Crossing the north bridge and saying one last goodbye to Shaftraven, my home for the last years, was certainly bittersweet - but Egu was excited to see the parts of the country we had never managed to reach on our long evening walks.
========================
After a morning of pleasant over-country rambling, we came across a large castle nestled in the low country. Inside we met the Baroness,
Der Bornsacks. However, during my inquiry into Stalkmatches, my words faltered and I managed to insult Der Bornsacks and her mode of dress. I left quickly after drawing ire.
The castle.
My first foray into adventure conversation mechanics in many years, and I managed to piss off a baroness. . . 
Outside the castle walls, overcome by weariness (as I was unused to travel), I stopped for a short nap, setting my pack against a grassy knoll. However, what was supposed to be a short nap turned into a full 8 hours, and I awoke just after midnight. So we continued north.
Through a desert we traveled, with the smell of Echidna on the air. Concerning. (looking at you, Smallhands. . .)
It was much colder than I had predicted, and when I went to drink I found the waterskin frozen solid. So we stopped for a bit to make a fire and melt the water. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to go adventuring this time of year.
Progress at this point. No clue where I'm headed.
The next day, I arrived at one of the forest retreats where other Elves lived. I asked for directions, to the nearest swampy terrain, however received only vague suggestions of a land to the northeast, just beyond the mountains. The elves live in complete chaos; there is a reason I choose to reside amongst humans instead.
The map of the forest retreat.
We found evidence of our purported sword, in the form of a dead giant surrounded by his own gore. The cave was surprisingly unlooted and I helped myself to a number of gold and silver coins. The blood trail, however, led nowhere interesting, and thus we were again without a good lead.
With no sign of the sword nearby, we committed ourselves to wandering the nearby region. Me and Egu happened upon another cave. As we were tromping our way through the underbrush, I noticed a beautiful rose gold crown! Should I wear it? Not now. Not yet.
And then heard the yelps as Egu was attacked by a large mole-beast. I was slow to react, but then in a single strike I drove my spear into the heart, and it slowly died before us.
Then, a giant appeared, with a great convex nose.
I tried talking to the Giant. 
I attempted to calm him but he quickly insinuated terrible things about my character and we began to fight. I scored a few hits on his chest before he ran into the forest . . where was Egu . . . no!
Egu's death provoked me into a murderous rage. As angry as any elf ever was. Two precise stabs to the neck and the giant was paralyzed. How many times I stabbed that giant skull, I did not keep track.
After the fight:
With Egu dead, I was despodent and wandered through the forests without a care for anything, having forgotten entirely about the sword. Over the mountains I traveled, guided by the canyon passes, eventually coming to a large tower on the eastern flank of the slopes.
I would later learn this tower's name:
Razorbars.
Here, I met Atu Scourgevipers, who was introduced as a servant of blight. Whatever that was - he seemed frankly happy to see me. He was living there, alone, and the tower was full of unearthly statues of strange, forgotten beasts. So I gave him a sympathetic smile, you know, asked how life was, and he freaking EXPLODED and slashed me with his knife.
He was FAST, and far more skilled a fighter than I, considering he was able to parry away my spear multiple times with his pocketknife or prison shank or whatever he was using. I turned to run, only to have him swoop and cut open my leg, making sprinting impossible. From this half-risen position, I fought against his knife assault. Things looked bad when, by pure luck, his knife shattered on my shield and I finally landed a few disabling strikes. He died smiling, crazed warlord that he was.
I was heavily wounded after this fight.
I searched the tower after recuperating. Scourgevipers had a bag of coin on his body.
I found multiple pamphlets and scrolls, mostly relating to this tower, apparently called Razorbars. Home to multiple different entities over the years, and each one wanted to write about how great it was. . weird.
On my way out, I saw a second, smaller tower to the south. Feeling brave, I looking inside, only to see strange shadows and machines in the passages. Traps. I did manage to steal a jelly opal earring on the way out, but left this second tower unexplored.
the second tower
I entered a region known as the purged swamps. This felt right. Like I was approaching the sword. I passed strange, corrupted terrain, where the ground itself was warped into evil, chaotic spirals.
I also traveled through an abandoned hamlet, on the outskirts of which I met a group of traveling humans. I asked about the region, but they began to fight so I quickly ran into the forest and resumed my search.
That night, I dreamt of a bridge, small, over a brook. Somewhere near this I would look.
========================I arrived at a place known as Colorsacks, finally, after a weeks journey, the passing of Egu, and the two dangerous fights with crazed beings - this was beginning to feel like the resting place of that sword, as described by the dying soldier.
A lone dwarf speardwarf runs past, shouting, "Yield! Yield!", but continuing to run as he does so. Wha. . . ?
Then, two hostile macedwarves. Obviously angry about something. They run past me at first, but then stop and double back - they want to know who I am. I decide to boast about killing Atu Scourgevipers. They seemed impressed and chose to ignore me, running off towards some unknown threat.
I began to search for the sword. This looked like the place - willow trees everywhere, and pools too. I then saw something glinting in the distance - the sword?
No. A silver bolt, stuck in some rotten wood, catching the high sunlight and provoking me. Bastard bolt.
Up the cliff, another glint - this time a hefty silver morningstar, and evidence of a fight. I take this weapon to trade later.
I spent the rest of the day searching to no avail. I slept the night away next to a fire and a pond, continuing my search in the morning.
And it just so happens my search found success, as I discovered a suspicious body - another well-equipped adventurer. Someone who might have, up until recently, posessed a magnificent sword. At first, no sign of a sword, just a poor, dead soul. But I lifted the backpack and it was oddly heavy . . .
there it was. Oltudtad. Stalkmatches. I knew not how to use a sword, but surely this one blade was meant for my exact hand? being so lightly forged, and well balanced as it was? A graceful weapon for a graceful creature such as myself. And for me to find it, alone, after a circuitous and perilous journey.
I looted some other goods from this poor dwarf, and decided to send off the body, clothing and all, in a large funeral pyre. Something felt right about this act.
As the smoke rose, I looked past at the red-green leaves of the swamp willows, and then further towards the autumn sun, setting in the western sky above the mist-shrouded valleys of the Purged Swamps, I wondered aloud, "What next for this old elf? What next?"
========================ooc: so. for whatever reason, legendsviewer literally crashed whenever I tried to locate colorsacks by name, and I couldn't find it on the map, so I only had the title of the swamp and your EXTREMELY vague directions that you lost it nearby. I was so unfamiliar with the chat system I had trouble getting directions, and then managed to misinterpret them horribly and end up literally circumnavigating the local mountain range, encountering that awful tower and almost dying. I only lived because the dude's knife broke lol
Finally, I ended up at colorsacks proper, coincidentally after I had kind of given up on ever finding the place. I realized I then had to manually search for your dead body and just hope the sword remained, which luckily I have the patience for this kind of shit so I did just that, and luckily the sword HAD remained, and it was kind of a glorious moment honestly, finding your body on the edge of the slope.
In hindsight, I could have taken a single day to walk to where I eventually discovered the sword. But, alas... :] adventure was had
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Topic: Stalkmatches - The blade of many hands (Weapon Succession Game) (Read 24787 times)