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Athesian beginnings; What did you do when young?
Topic Started: 11 Dec 2011, 23:57 (749 Views)
Sir Percival
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Rory Gleeson
Kel'shaz Lakhar, aged fourteen sat on the marble bench of the Temple of Bahamut and sighed. He leafed through his book of prayers and tried to think of one to fit in his situation. Unfortunately he couldn't find a prayer along the lines of 'the girl I love has recently sprouted wings and is thus the most desireable young female in the vale'.

"That's ridiculous" he sighed and shut the book. Looking across plain, sparsely decorated temple he thought about his training as a Cleric, and what life would have in store for him. His parents were both Clerics of Bahamut, so it was only logical that he followed in their footsteps, he had already taken his vows of pacifism, and was a very able healer, far above the other trainees his age. He tried to focus on his studies, but he kept thinking that the aspiring Paladins would be training on the muster field about now, without knowing it, he had already stood up and had left the temple and was on his way to see them.

It is part of Dragonborn nature to be strong in body and personality, so watching Paladins spar was always an impressive spectacle. Young Kel'shaz Lakhar however, was only intrested in watching the spectacle of one young female Paladin, her name was Sorma Tuthnae, and she was the youngest Dragonborn to sprout wings in the history of the Vale. She was also incredibly strong, and looked quite good in her plate mail Kel'shaz thought to himself.

Kel'shaz sat himself down at one end of the muster field, enjoying the midday sun on his scales, and watched Sorma face off against Jez, and Hashen, two of the most promising Paladins currently being trained. With wooden practice swords and shields they fought in a dizzying whirlwind, with Sorma eventually breaking Jez's arm with a mighty blow from her wooden Fullblade. Kel'shaz saw Hashen lay his hands on Jez's arm, trying to heal it. The bone mended, but wasn't set right, causing Jez to scream in pain and frustration. Seeing this, Kel'shaz stood up and ran over to the melee, his robes flapping as he did.

"Let me help!" He shouted as he reached the three Paladins. "The bone's set all wrong, he needs his arm broken again before I can heal it." hearing this, Jez snorted and Hashem laughed, Sorma looked down at her feet, looking ashamed.

"I suppose you'll break it, yes?" Sneered Jez, even through the pain of his arm. "You Lakhars are all the same, you don't know what it means to be a real Dragonborn, you don't know what it means to fight and win glory for the Vale."

"The Lakhars have been Clerics of Bahamut for generations" replied Kel'shaz angrily. "We've healed more sick than you can count Jez, not that that's s aying much." The next thing Kel'shaz remembered was lying on the floor, with a splitting headache and the taste of blood in his mouth. He looked up and noticed that Jez and Hashem had left, and that Sorma was kneeling by him.

"Hashem struck you round the back of the head with his sword", said Sorma unhappily. "You've been unconcious for about half an hour, I tried to heal the wound, I think I did ok." Kel'shaz ran his hand over the wound, finding it barely healed at all. He concentrated for a moment and the flesh knitted back together. He smiled at Sorma.

"You did a great job" Kel'shaz smiled. "It's as good as new." Sorma smiled at this.

"You're a terrible liar Kel." She laughed. "I'll never be a great healer like you will."

"And I'll never win glory for my family or for the Vale." Kel'shaz sighed. Hearing this, Sorma kissed him on the cheek.

"You will in your own way Kel." She said, and walked off, leaving Kel'shaz Lakhar smiling, but wondering what she meant.
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Fulgrim Ironheart

Marcellus stared up at the stars, pinpricks of light among a sea of darkness... always beyond his reach, a fitting iro-whack-

"You're Doin' it " the voice said next to him "That bloody pondering feychild" he turned to regard her with his icy eye. Maria Byrne, one of the few people who seemed to be uncaring about his nature "Look ye wanted to head out into the forest and I came too but if you're gonna be like that I can just head home". While his beauty was almost fake, his limbs a little to thin and everything just perfect enough to be unsettling she had worked for it, her body built like a predator, light and quick with enough muscle to keep up with her acrobatic movements, though she could look beautiful when she wanted to be-whack- "You're doing it again feychild"

He raised a brow "And how do you plan to make your way through the Paths?" he asked sardonically as he waved the map in his hands, it was a rough guide of course... things kept changing down here but it made an apt starting point for navigating this place. "Well if you're gonna hold a' girl hostage then I guess that is that" she said with a frown "Then I am just going to have to take it!" she added, darting past him and grabbing it, flowing like water just outside his reach.

"Damnit woman..." he growled as he chased after her, even with a couple of well placed teleports she evaded him, always just out of reach, after several minutes he sat down at the foot of a tree, panting with a smile "Alright ye' win woman" he said, accent slipping for a moment laughing echoing in the forest "Maria... ye' can come out of hiding" he said as he got up, frowning slightly, gold blue eyes searching for her "Thrice damn it..." he said, voice turning back to normal as he thought, drawing a quick circle in the dirt... trying to figure out where she was.

He found her with a blade to her throat... bandits from the woods it looked like, with crudely made charms in an attempt to ward off the twisting paths "Let go of her!" he barked out, his voice lacking power but with a keen icy edge to it "Ah ye finally came bloody feychild, I was thinking I would have to wait an eternity for you to deign us with your presence" she said, voice still jovial even with the knife to her throat "And I will correct ye, I dont need ye to save me" she added, giving a quick kick to the man holding her, grabbing his dagger and reversing their situation.

"Now then lad's my boy over here is gonna ask you a few questions about missing travellers and you are going to answer them or I'm gonna have to get nasty and no one wants to see that, isn't that right?"
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Laidriana Panthera
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Eleanor Collyer
Laidriana was just 12 when she left home, she left her village in search of strength and might. A neighbouring village had a kind chief, a warlord who had defended them against the odds many times. For five years she trained there with some of his daughters but soon she left with her new friends for another village where together they trained for a further five years making some more friends. After this they all left, a party of women fighting and advancing their skills together. They all drank heavily most nights, laidriana being noted at times for her ability to drink a dwarf under the table, and some found interest in the men they met, some the women and some wouldn't be open about such feelings. For ten years the party travelled together until an event which only fragments of memory have started to form when laidriana found herself alone. She returned to her home village only to find her mother and sister, whom she had trained in order to protect after the loss of her father, gone without a trace and that is when she decided to fight to protect all she could and joined the council.
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Dargan Drosilan
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Declan Doyle
(OOC)Just a brief warning ooc (and ic in a second) this is a long ass post, It came to a little over 7 Sides of A4 on word, ye be warned(OOC)

'Let me tell you a tale. The tale of a mace named Freyagg and sit back, because this is a long one.

"The Goliath youths tumbled down the mountain. In hot pursuit a Pack of dire mountain goats. Each group bounding effortlessly from rock to rock as though they were as natural a part of the mountain as the trees and stones. The youths laughing, cavorting in joy. Save for one.

"Dammit Illim what was that back there" yelled Sornir.

"Sorry Sornir," He chortled back "I must have lost control of the energy"

"It looked like you provoked them on purpose" Sornir complained.

"Now now lads" Said Fengar "Until the alpha shows up we should really keep running, till then keep your bickering to yourselves".

"Aye aye Brother" saluted Illim and Sornir sulked resolutely. They began to draw to an outcrop when suddenly a great hulking form stepped up over the sheer cliff.

"By the great Thane", whispered Dargan. The alpha goat brandished its vast weight, canting its hooves the size of boulders flexing its back that was as a great wooden hull. The alpha prepared to charge and many of the other goats had pulled up behind cutting off the youths retreat. The youths braced for impact, Fengar briefly nodded at his brothers and began to limber up his mordenkrad. Seeing this, his brothers readied themselves and nodded for Sornir and Kharnan to do the same. The goat began its charge and the hammer fell. Fell like a great mountain buckling to its knees. As the out crop disintegrated around them each of the brothers grabbed a serviceably large chunk of stone and placed in beneath their feet. The two cousins were pulled on as passengers as the plummeting decent began surfing down the cliff face surrounded by the collapsing mountain side.

"Dammit are all three of you insane?" Bellowed Sornir, barely audible over the shelf of stone and earth that now raced to the valley floor.

"Worry not Sornir" Dargan roared back, "should all the sons of Drosil die this day you'll be next in line for chief" The rest of the youths broke into peals of laughter and once again Sornir sulked in the face of sure destruction. The cascade of rock you and goat burst down toward the swiftly approaching valley floor.

"So what do we do at the bottom?" asked Sornir.

"Well according to our father you grab a tree at the last second and you should be fine" Replied Fengar.

"Drosil? How many times have you guy's done this?"

"This'll be the first" chirped Illim

"Why do I hang out with you guys?"

"Well I want to go and if you don't come mum'll thrash you senseless" snarked Kharnan "besides you love protecting your little sister"

"Dammit Kharn Not in front of the guys"

"Sorry Sorny, I'll be good" she teased. The group tensed all aiming for a stout branch. They coiled as much strength under them as they could and sprang with all their might, each colliding with a different tree. With a sway and a moan each tree bent but didn't break and the wave of stone and snow blew under the youths eventually re-carpeting the entire valley. The youths dangled for a while, intermittent laughter punctuating the sounds of settling debris.

"Damn" exclaimed Fengar "I owe dad a drink"

"What why?" Said Sornir

"Because I didn't think that'd work"

"You rotten stump" The group laughed again as they clambered down the trees collecting themselves on the new ground.

"So what now?" Asked Kharnan

"Well we need to get back up to get to the tribe before sundown" commented Illim

"Aye but that rolling debris will be treacherous" Said Fengar "our best bet is to hike through the valley and scale the south side"

"But we won't get back before dark that way" complained Sornir "we'll have to camp at least on the crest somewhere and we'll have to some quick hunting too"

"We'll hunt through the valley" Said Fengar "plenty of game should have been flushed or wounded by this landslide so we should have no problem taking supplies"

"Righto, lead on brother" said Dargan and the other Goliath fell in step behind Fengar. The Group Moved swiftly, quietly securing several mountain animals for the evening camp. As they trekked closer to the south of the valley they began to hear what sounded like some kind of skirmish, muted shouts, the clash of steel on steel. The group paused for a moment then drew weapons and broke into a charge. Pounding feet and rushed breaths the youths piled over a small crest and into a fray. There were Lycans and Vanir facing off with some strangers caught in the middle. The youths bounded into the fray Felling foes from each side and with surging battle cries quickly forcing themselves to the center of the ruckus where the strangers fought. Getting there The youths added their strength to the standing fighters, two vicious warriors, a Glorious orc woman and some kind of scaled humanoid beating back the forces as best they could, beyond them lay another scaled humanoid doing its best to treat an injured human and three panicking younglings two half orc and another of the scaled creatures.

The Goliaths threw their very will into their strokes, blasting back enemies on each side and pushing a fighting retreat. Each warrior fought with un paralleled bravery and ferocity, The orc woman lifted two Lycans with her gauntleted hands and broke their spines with a sudden twist, the scaled warrior burning with a divine light blew vanir back with its mighty full blade, Fengar stood firm as blow upon blow met his shield, Dargan swung his axes furiously burying them deep in skulls, Illim swept left and right with his strangely glowing short sword, cleaving weapons and enemies alike, Sornir fought as one with the spirit of a great bear, Kharnan disappeared swiftly leaving corpses skewered with knives. The numbers, however, were not on their side. A great push came from the side of the Vanir as a great angel reared up from the rear ranks and the swell of troops spilt the defenders as the human, one of the half orc and the scaled healer were swept with the tide. The orc woman and scaled warrior roared with such pain and fury that many of the nearer Lycans and Vanir flinched back a few feet.

The great angel descended on the group, a hideous mocking laughter accompanied its hollow figure, a facade of divinity. The orc launched self like a typhoon. Gauntleted fists landing crushing blows on its torso and hip. The angel grabbed her mid drop and began to strip the gauntlet from her right hand. The scaled warrior unleashed an inhuman scream, a scream that echoed as that it came from inside your very soul, a single word in an unknown language. The warrior began to burn with an intense silver light bight and glaring. The Vanir paused to stare and this, confused by the development. The orc took this moment, grabbing a discarded blade with her feet she made a single swing and severed her own arm at the shoulder, jumping back to make a stand with the blinding warrior, as she did the arm blackened and dissolved to nothing. The Vanir stared and summoned two shadow wreathed swords. As they approached a lull came over the battle as this would surely be a climactic duel of epic proportion.

"Sornir, Illim" Yelled Fengar "storm cave now!"

Sornir and Illim suddenly snapped focus, each concentrating and muttering under their breath, Sornir focused the spirits in the area to form a bulging storm cloud, Illim began to run a strange energy down his arm until he had a stable spark between two of his fingers.

"Ready" they shouted in unison.

"By the mountain" Fengar roared, hefting his hammer skyward once more, Illim fired the spark up into the cloud where it percolated and burst. Fengar hammer descended with the force of an avalanche, blowing a pit out beneath the remaining defenders and the earth that rose above them was struck by a wave of lightning fusing and boning the earth till it was as hard as bedrock. Muted beneath the cave the sounds of battle were gone and the group began to settle. Fengar sat on Dargan's chest until the rage subsided and the rest of the goliaths set about turning this cave into a camp.

A few hours passed and the cave grew to a slightly awkward silence. A vial of trapped magma had been used to heat enough rocks for light and to cook some of their catches from earlier.

"The sun has gone down" said Sornir "the sprits say the wolves are covering the battle field so we should stay here for now. Who wants first watch?"

"I'll take it" said Illim "besides I think that our guest are going to have a hard time sleeping tonight, and maybe one of us who's a little more learned should try to talk to them. Unless we want to keep being jerks and talk in giant like we have for the last few hours"

"Point taken I'll join you" said Fengar, the rest mumbled apologetically, but began to smooth out some stone for the night. After the goliaths had begun to snore Illim went and sat near to the half orc and scaled youngling, which was currently quite content playing with some rocks.

"Hello there" He said in orcish "and what might your name be?"
The half orc seemed to think for a moment and then said "It doesn't translate from common very well, but my mother called me Feltin"

"Nice to meet you Feltin I'm Illim, those two are my brothers Fengar and Dargan and those two are my cousins Sornir and Kharnan. This may seem like a harsh question but how well can you and the little one handle your selves?"

"Well I'm not bad my mother taught me to use a mace and my father a bow but I don't have either"

"We can probably make you something, Fengar?" Fengar dutifully went to his bag and pulled out a haft and some leather strips, he then proceeded to lash a stone to the haft to make a temporary mace.

"And how about the little one, Does it have a name and preferred fighting style?"

"I couldn't tell you I'm afraid, it doesn't speak anything I can understand. I haven't see it fight anything either. Our two families bumped into each other about a day ago and we've been travelling in relative silence since. One of the larger scales spoke a little common and said its name was Khilesh or something and they'd come from somewhere called the vale, I think he was some kind of healer. And the other one was a divine user; I've seen them in the dark plains, where my dad was from"

"Yes that makes a lot of sense. There aren't really gods up here in the mountains so hopefully that Vanir bit off more that it could chew" Feltin was quiet for a while and all that could be heard was the sound of cooling rocks and stretching leather. Eventually Illim realized that Feltin was crying.

"Ah, I'm sorry Feltin. I'd assumed you were accustomed to the ways of the mountains, being a half orc yourself I-

"Don't" she interrupted "it's only a moment it'll pass" There was silence for a time again and Feltin slowed down to stuttering breaths. At long last Fengar finished with the straps, gave the makeshift weapon a quick look over and a couple of hefts and then walked over to Feltin and Illim.

"Here" he said handing her the mace "how old are you?"

"Twelve" she said

"Good that's old enough to be a warrior. Here is your weapon, treat it well and it'll protect you. Name it and you'll have a bond for life."

"Thank you"

"Comes with being a warrior," he drew his hammer "this is Frodrfjell. Ever blow is live the tread of a mountain."

"I think of one."

"Good lass, so do the two of you want to eat?"

"Please" Fengar went over to the rocks and pulled out some strips of grilled venison. He handed some to Feltin who chewed grated fully and then approached the called youngling. He offered it the meat but it didn't seem very interested. Shrugging he asked

"So we don't have a name for this and it can't fight?"

"I don't know about can't but I've not seen it" said Feltin

"Tell me do you know what the language that it talked to its parents sounded like?" Asked Illim

"It was scratchy and hissy and lots of growls" Illim took a set of bound skins and a piece of charcoal and made some notes.

"I see and what kind of food were they eating?"

"Well Khilesh carried this weird ration that they all ate. I'm not sure what it was. Are you writing this down?"

"Yes I am. I've found making notes on information I'm told makes it easier to remember and I have a copy should I need them. It's sadly a rare trait out in the mountains, outside of the druid or shaman concaves"

"Why aren't you there then, if you like books and such?"

"Well I've visited both but I'm neither a shaman nor a druid, I'm what people out of the mountains would call a sorcerer. I'm not very good yet though, There's only really one good trick I've got" He put aside the 'book' and drew his short sword. He rubbed his fingers briefly and then ran them down the flat of the blade, which turned blue. When she looked closer Feltin could see little dancing sparks all along the blade giving it a blue glow.

"It's very pretty" said Feltin

"Oh you think so? Well then" Illim closed his eyes and began to concentrate. The sparks began to dance far and wide flaring into a dazzling array of colours and patterns coming to a bright climax, then fading and Illim opened his eyes again.

"How about that?" He said

"Very pretty, though the flourish at the end was unnecessary" The three of them laughed. The scaled youngling drawn by the lights had crawled into Feltin's crossed legs and was now surveying the two Goliaths as though from a fort. Feltin gently reached down and stroked its brow ridge and it gurgled in what appeared to be contentment.

"If we can't talk to it what will we do?" asked Fengar.

"Well it's an intelligent being according to Feltin so we should be able to teach it though mime as one would train a wolf though it should pick things up quicker" said Illim

"Well then let's get it to eat something then" said Feltin. The three of them each took a strip of venison and began to chew whilst making noises of satisfaction, as they did so the scaled youngling began to fidget a little and sniff at the meat. Fengar offer it a strip and it snatched it and chewed cautiously and then with relish. Soon it was looking up expectantly for more and it was fed several more strips and then curled up and went to sleep.

"It may not have fought before but with teeth like that it's a natural predator" said Illim.

"Its breath is also icy cold, some of that meat froze when it opened its mouth" said Feltin.

"Well that's what we'll call it then" Said Fengar "Lifa Thyr, Little frost. At least until we can work out its actual name. Any idea how old it is? Or it's gender for that matter"

"Not really, I think it's quite young but I'm not sure, by orc standards it's three or four but we age very fast"

"If the parents were anything to judge by and Lifa'Thyr ages like goliaths it'd be around 8-10 maybe" said Illim

"I'm not sure about gender though. The two parents looked about the same, they wore different clothes but I think that was a battle thing. If I had to guess I'd say female but I have no way to prove it...not sure where or what it'd look like"

"Let’s not go there for now. If the mountain wills it we won't have to. Tomorrow we'll head out and see if we can find the survivors." Feltin stuttered again at that and Illim put a hand reassuringly on her shoulder.

The rest of the night went without event and in the morning the group dug out into the open. The Battle field was awash with scorches and death; many Lycan corpses littered the area. The group began to search the area for survivors and began to see remnants of a fight that many of them couldn't comprehend. The scorch and death patterns alone suggested that the two warriors held against ridiculous odds for quite some time. Though they next found what seemed to be a funeral pyre just large enough for two, next to which stood a still faintly glowing full blade planted in the ground atop which sat a single plate gauntlet. The group was still for some time the only sounds in the valley were those of the still dying coals of the pyre and the foolishly optimistic birds singing songs of mirth and joy, oblivious to events below their tree tops.

"Feltin" said Illim after what seemed an age "we have to go" words stuck in her throat and she was unable to answer. "Take faith in this, if a pyre was held for them the rest of your family survived, the Vanir would not do this and lycans would have dealt with their own dead as well" She perked up a little at this and drew a hand across her face.

"Then we should go" she said between sobs.

"One moment" said Dargan "Look at this" he pulled up what looked like to hilt to one of the angel's dark blades. "If it's shattered like this than they killed it or took it to an inch of its life, your mother was an insanely brave woman."

"She was, wasn't she...Fengar?"

"Yes Feltin"

"I have a name for my mace. Freyagg, after my mother. May it protect me to the last like she did."

"Aye lass, that's a great name"

The groups spent some time searching for the path of the survivors but a layer of snow that had fallen in the morning made it impossible.

"Well then" announced Sornir "We have two new daughters of the mountain, Fjallanners. We'll take them to the tribe and get them there alive and to those that need it we'll start training"

"We're not actually sure of the gender of Lifa'Thyr Sornir" said Illim. Sornir stared blankly for a moment then said.

"Then we'll raise it neutrally though a name one given cannot be revoked"

"Well backstopped Sorny" said Kharnan. The group laughed. And started the trek back to the south of the valley to start the climb back up the tribe camp.

"You know" said Sornir "the only thing that would make this day harder if we bumped into a lost creature we all thought extinct or something"

"What like a gargantuan albino Yheti or something?" asked Dargan."

But that my friends is a different story for another time.'

(OOC)I've proof read though it twice, aided by the power of spell check but It's early I'm kinda ill and it's quite long so apologies for strange wording or errors(OOC)
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Eron Garcia
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Jon W
'It's far too cold and dark tonight' Thought Eron, a young boy, no more than 12, as he wandered back home through the streets of La Frasca, wrapping his clothes tighter about him, early in the morning.

As he wandered towards his home, thoughts of the wonderful books he had just found started once again to leap to his mind, exciting him, even in the freezing night. It had been early afternoon last time he had checked the time, and he had been on his way to the library, the same routine as most days lately. He clearly remembered the moments leading up to the small weather-worn building, but all his memories of inside had disappeared and been replaced with stories and facts, accounts of the past. A string of disconnected memories, of places he had never been, and people he had never met flooded his mind as he went mentally recapped all the tomes he had read that afternoon. He let out a sigh of happiness. Sometimes the tales in a book can be far more exciting than the boring life he had been dumped with.
As he quietly slipped up to his house, he was surprised to find light streaming out of an open door, usually when he arrived late like this, his parents would have gone to sleep, safe in the knowledge of where they're son was. This time felt different though. Curious as to why they had left the door open, Eron ventured inside.

'Grrrk Fyssh Crxk!'

Eron Froze. Around the main table sat his mother and father, and what appeared to be the source of the light, a blazing humanoid figure in armour standing by the hearth, and although he had no definable face, he seemed angry. His parents at the table quietly ushered him to move very slowly towards them, they were as white as sheets and obviously as petrified as he.

'D..d..don't worry son' stammered his father Miguel, obviously trying to reassure himself more than his boy.

'I'll think of something, just don't look him in his... well you know' As the family reunited, the powerful flaming figure strode over and started again to shout, getting more and more agitated as he did so. As he spoke, his... words, for lack of a better term, started to sound like they were produced by rocks hitting each other, and fire, roaring untamed in grassland, but one thing was consistent throughout his rumblings, he was getting more anxious.

Unsure as to why this creature was in his house, let alone what had caused it to be angry, Eron could only stand and watch as for more than twenty minutes this creature expostulated and roared, and even spat a little. Finally the being gave up, and went back to his position by the fireplace. Eron couldn't help but notice that the light the creature was giving off over the last twenty minutes had faded, and he was slowly turning darker. After another ten minutes the fiery man started yelling again, this time quieter, as if it were further away somehow, All Eron could hope was that it was losing interest, and might leave soon, as it obviously wasn't getting anywhere. This cycle continued for a further hour or so until eventually, it stopped moving and started to drastically dim.

Soon the sun rose on a new day and illuminated the scene, a mother and father sat around a table looking tired and wan with their young boy, all looking glad to be alive, and a black statue sagged by the fireplace, head in hands. It wasn't long before the rest of the village awoke and the family, carefully, squinting in the light, left their Ill-fated house in search of some answers.

They quickly decided to visit the Order of the Mailed Fist, after all, they were the most travelled of anyone, if someone could shed some light, it would be them. As they arrived at the large grey stone building they were welcomed by another scene, around fifteen knights were in the yard, tending their wounds, some obviously mortal. It seems they had recently arrived back from a tour and had had an encounter with some of the devils to be found on the plains late yesterday, too near to the village for coincidence, and had arrived exhausted much later sometime in the night.

After relaying the story to one of the armour clad heroes, a look of sadness came to his eyes, as he then relayed what he had witnessed in his fight the day before and how the archon, travelling the lands to learn more about them had helped saved their lives. His tour had gotten home so late in the night, because they had spent three hours or so after the battle looking for their mysterious helper, who they knew to be seriously wounded.

As all of the new information sunk into Erons mind, he suddenly felt sick. All of the time, the archon had been trying to convey that he needed help, he would not hurt them, in fact he had just a few hours before, fought to defend the village, and had gotten separated from the paladins, and made his own way into town, and was in dire need of medical attention.
To Eron and his parents this information struck a heavier blow than any mace ever could. After being so terribly afraid of this dying saviour, even glad when it died, it did not mean them any harm, it simply needed help.

From that day on, Eron Garcia swore to never sit idly by, to instead help all those in need, even those who cannot speak the common language.

From that day on, he made it his mission to learn all the languages spoken by the races of the world, so that he could understand and heal them.

From that day on, he became a Paladin of the Mailed Fist.
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Dargan Drosilan
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Declan Doyle
(Another long'un)

This is a tale of a Hammer named Vanbjodr.

Helga and Kharan Morkilanner stood at the edge of the clear lake. They watched as dire shark pups drifted around in the shallows, preying on the small fish they’d need to grow to their true size. The two goliath girls watched the mild predation for a while till a gentle rumbling signified the arrival of who they were here to see. The earth bulged a few feet away and a hulking bulette burrowed up from beneath the rocks and dirt. As it rose it slowly veered back into the form of a large goliath, albeit a rather filthy one.

“Alright girls” said Dargan, brushing a coating of the dirt off “Sornir said you’d be dropping by, what can I help you with?”

“Well Helga here has found this ruined hut thing she wanted to explore” Said Kharan “We we’re wondering I’d you’d come with us cuz”

“Well I’m quite busy enough here myself with this castle, not sure what I’m going to do with it yet though, maybe I’ll keep Fluffy here, Fengar’d’ve wanted it that way. Besides, the two of you are what 14 and 18 now you’re more than old enough to not need my help.” He said turning back to the lake.

“Aww please” the girls moaned in unison “It’s more fun with you around to tease” said Helga.

“And that’s right convincing. No I’m going to be too busy for now I’m afraid. Though…”He said turning back “you could take Feltin and Lifa with you. Feltin’s strong and Lifa’s just gotten hang of that frost breath thing, you could make it a girls outing. How ‘bout that?”

“Okay” said Kharan “I’ll go get them” she darted off toward the tribe camp.

Helga remained pouting a little. “It’s not fair” she said bolshily “Kharan has all these stories form when I was too young to come with you. I want to have adventures too” she stamped her foot a little. Dargan turned at this and smiled warmly at Helga.

“Aye that she did. And you’re right, it isnnae fair at all.” Helga noticed a twinge of sadness well in the mountain mans' smile and a slight waver in his voice. “But, I need to finish this place. It’s all I can do for them especially since it was my fault. I promise when I’m done we will adventure side by side and when we do it’ll be a great honour for me.” He placed a hand on her shoulder “Tell you what, come back to me when you’re done with this adventure and tell me all about it. Okay?”

“Okay” she said, still rather miffed.

Dargan straightened up and coughed back his grief, “One more thing” he said “Keep an eye on Lifa for me, she’s the youngest so she’ll need the most help. It’s a tricky job to protect the youngsters but I’m entrusting it to you. By the thunder?” he raised an arm to her.

“By the thunder” Helga vowed clasping his thick arm as best she could, much cheerier.

“Good, now run on or you won’t catch them up”

Helga darted away proud of the task she’d been given. Dargan stood and watched her frolic away and a spot in his heart tugged for a time when he could be so quite carefree. He turned back to the lake and veered back into the form of a bulette, sighing slightly as he got back to work.


Helga reached the others just as she got back into the camp. They were all excited to go out on their first real adventure as elders or without real elders; this was going to be fun. They didn’t wait too long. Kharan and Helga explained to Lifa and Feltin what they were looking for and where they were going and they all grabbed some rope to descend the steep cliffs. They went one by one, clinging tightly to the harsh rocks, muscles fighting the teasing pull of the winds, luring them to a long fall. They pressed hard down the sheer drop and as true God-cursers the relished in the challenge. After a while they had made it down the cliff and they coiled their ropes for later use. As they set out from the base their excitement was buzzing, eager to search this strange hut and all that it offered. After a few minutes of hiking and mirth Helga heard something up ahead.

“Get down” she hushed the group dropping prone as quietly as they could. Helga nodded to Kharan who nodded in reply. Kharan slunk forward, belly to the ground, eyes peeled and ears pricked for all she could see up ahead. As she progressed she looked out into a copse where the noises of fighting and animal rage were combining into an all too familiar ruckus. She held her hand up to the others to signify what was up ahead, an O for orcs and a claw for bears. The group crept up for a better look. Amongst the spread trees they could clearly see a group of orcs fighting one rather annoyed bear. The girls looked at each other and unanimously readied for action.

The orcs were struggling. This should have been easy. Five of them to fight against one bear, even for an orc that’s easy to count. So why were they struggling so. The bear wasn’t bigger than usual. It was a female, but it wasn’t protecting young. So why was it this vicious? The leader ducked back from the rock crushing jaws, teeth missing his nose by centimetres. He inhaled great waves of the beasts’ breath and suddenly he understood.

“This bear is completely sloshed” He cried out in Orcish.

Then a hammer collided with his head.

The fight was short; the orcs had been occupied enough with the mighty bear that the four girls delivered violence upon them swiftly and thoroughly without giving them time to react. As the orcs lay beaten and drooling into the snow the four girls collected themselves and faced the bear. It swayed slightly as it readjusted to the new events. It stared at the girls who braced for combat fully aware of what a bear could do. A long moment passed and Helga made the first move. She belted her hammers and lowered her hands the other girls backing off a little weapons drawn. She slowly approached the bear, cautiously and submissively reaching out with down turned hands. The bear watched her approach, head lilting to one side. As she got close the bear suddenly moved, it poked an orc at it's feet with it's head and then it waved back to Helga. She stood still, waiting.

The bear lurched forward and licked the young goliath with boozy breath. She happily patter the bear back. The girls all relaxed eager too meet their new ally. After a few minutes of gladness the bear then started to wander away but stopped every few feet to check the girls were coming and they followed it gratefully.

The bear lead them away form the copse and they eventually came to a strange ruined hut.

"This is the one I saw before" said Helga

"Maybe this bear lives there" said Feltin

"Sure looks like it" said Kharan as they stepped in to the ruins. The girls looked around at the ruins noticing many broken tables and stools, worn by time and weather. The bear slunk off behind a particularly long table in front of a shattered shelving space. Lifa followed it as the other girls looked closer at the ruins.

"Most of these tables are stone" said Kharnan, "I've not seen things like this out side of the Deep caves."
"I've not been yet" said Feltin "Though we had wooden ones at my hose in the dark plains when I was young."

"Who do you think made them?" said Helga, much more interested in the remains of a shield hanging for one of the walls.

"No idea" answered Kharan

"Maybe it's been here for a long time. It sure looks like it's been left for a while" mused Feltin.

"Hey!" exclaimed Lifa "There are barrels down here."

The girls dashed past the long table and found a passage down some crumbly stairs into some kind of cellar. There were indeed barrels, there was also a palpable wave of alcohol fumes. Several of the barrels had clearly split over time and the smell of aged whisky and ale had ingrained into the stone. Lifa excitedly pointed at the bear that had settled down to sleep in a comfy crater it had made out of a destroyed barrels and dirt. The girls carefully looked around, so as not to disturb the recently sleeping bears.

"You know" whispered Kharan "I don't think you girls have had your first proper party." The girls all turned to her utter glee shining in their eyes."Come, let's take one of these casks upstairs and start a fire."
The girls spread their merriment far into the starry hours, polishing off two of the hearty brandy casks between them. The fell soundly and robustly asleep under the night sky, warmed and contented at the nights revelries.


The Orc looked out on the corpses. They had been soundly beaten by a tactically superior force, it also appeared as though some wild beast was involved.

"Right, bury this lot" he said to his warband "They'll attract too many animals like this and we have hunting to do. Can't have 'em in the way." There was stale smoke in the air. They couldn't have gone far. He looked to the sky and hefted the mordencrad on his shoulder. By the mountain he'd find those responsible.

Helga woke first. Groggy head pounding like a Dire goat herd. She suddenly focused. something had woken her. A strange feeling of there being something...wrong. She was almost ready when the first orc came through the broken wall. She reacted quickly, bellowing a mighty war cry, snapping the other sleepers right to consciousness. Her two hammers caught the orc in the chest and leg, bodily lifting him off his feet before magically returning to her hands. The rest of the orcs came at once.


The Fight had been a blur, desperate and flailing. The orcs had driven them close and hard. But hadn't moved in for the kill. Their sheer numbers wore the girls down who fought like the great Thane himself, but it wasn't enough. Suddenly the orcs paused, weapons held aloft and ready to pounce. A larger and meaner looking orc with two vicious scars across his chest stepped round the ruins and spoke a few words to them in poor common.

"I'm 'ere to kill you all. You killed my mates. Now you die."

He unlimbered his hammer like lightning, one swift movement flowing straight into a thundering impact. Kharan hit the wall and didn't move. The girls turned as the orc spun of a second attack, stunned by his speed and ferocity. Helga dodged the second blow, the hammer scoring her cheek and shattering the stone behind her head. Stone fragments raked her face, blinding one eye and scattering rips and tears across her features. Feltin weighed in with her mace, a sickening blow to the midriff. As she pulled the mace back with a sticky squelch the orc grinned. He snapped his fist across her temple, launching her form her feet. Helga rained her hammers upon him. Blows struck most of his head and shoulders but as she did he turned to face her launching madly in the torrent of steel. He dropped his hammer and raised his hands. Plucking Helgas' from the air and wringing them from her hands. Her hammers hit the ground. He drew his face right up to hers and said

"Time to meet the Vanir."

Helga squirmed back in fear. Fighting against this orcs grip with all her might but he simply chuckled. Then he screamed. White hot panic spread across his face. Eyes lancing to the sky. He dropped Helga and desperately flailed against the ice that was sheeting his legs and torso, the forming crystals shredding and freezing his flesh in place. His curdling cries were horrifying. Pathetic and terrified the ice took him and made a statue, pure cold and perfectly still. Helga looked past him and saw Lifa standing triumphant. Closing her mouth she turned to the other orcs and hissed like an alligator. They visibly flinched and had that not sent them packing the bear that burst through the floor beneath them definitely did.

The girls collected themselves. Helga patched her bleeding face and helped Feltin carry Kharan. Lifa grabbed the massive hammer of the orc and said.

"We could take this to Dargy. He likes hammers."

"Yes we could." said Helga "Would you carry it for me?"

"Yeseseseseses" Lifa beamed.

Karan began to stir and Helga found some whiskey to wake up with. When she came round she said
"Shivering peaks that guy hit like a lightning bolt." she clutched her side and winced "There's definitely something broken in there. Damn, well that means we wont be able to carry as many casks back." She grinned and the other girls laughed in chorus. As the girls set about collecting some choice casks, the bear approached Helga once more.

"Merh" It said.

"I'm sorry is this your ale?" asked Helga.

"MMMMERGH" the bear exclaimed.

"By thunder you're a heavy drinker. Alright, how about you come with us and then you can keep drinking but with better companions".

The bear seemed to ponder on this for a moment and then sloppily licked Helga again.

"Good well if you're coming you'll need a name"

"Call the damn boozy thing Mugrat" called out Kharan.

"That's silly" said Helga "what was that in common again though?"

"Ummm, Moon Shine I think"

"That'll do, Moonshine the bear"

"Murrrrrgh Ruuuuur" confirmed the bear.

"Well then let's see if we can tie a few barrels to Moonshine and get them up that cliff."

The girls scaled the cliff back with a carful pace. Calm and peaceful. Just before the top Helga came over to Kharan and asked "Did all your adventures with Dargan go like this?"

"Pretty much." she said "I think that's why that battle hit him as hard as it did. He blames himself for their deaths cause it was his idea to go ride Remoraz that day."

"That's very sad." Helga said.

"Aye Hel, it is indeed. Well these casks should brighten up his day a bit." she smiled.


The girls got in to the tribe camp where stories of their adventures spread fast. Moonshine the bear was happily adopted by the tribe as were the Barrels of booze. The words on that day were of Helga "stone eye" and Lifa "Ice slayer" and a mighty feast was held.

Later Helga made her way up to the castle again by her self to see Dargan. He was lifting and moving huge boulders for wall stones when she got there.

"Hey" she called "Get over here."

Dargan chuckled dropping the massive rock "Oh how am I supposed to say no to a request like that." His smile faded when he spotted the dressing over her eye and cheek. "Ah, had yourself a good adventure did you? You keep the others safe?"

"Yes though It was Lifa that ended up saving me. I don't think I did a good job, Kharan got really hurt." tears began to well in the corners of her eyes and she stared at her feet.

"Oh no, no. Look the fact that you're more worried about her then the new bragging scars you've gotten means that you did a good job, you'r'all back in mostly one piece and from the sounds of the camp you found some good stuff and brought some great tales. So no, you did a fine job." He said squeezing her shoulder.

"Really?"


"Yes really, any tale where you all walk away at the end is a great one no matter how rough it gets in the middle." He smiled warmly at her again. "Now what are those you have there?"

She turned to the cask and hammer she'd carried here for him. "This is a cask of really old whiskey. Uncle Drosil said that it could be hundreds old."

"Did he now? Well I'll make sure to..." dargan trailed off as he looked at the hammer, his face was wracked with such grief and despair that Helga was shocked. She' never seen any of the mountain men show much feeling other than laughter, certainly not in front of her anyway.

"What is it? What's wrong with the hammer?" she implored.

"Vanbjodr" Dargan said as he fought the tears " Hope bringer, This was my brother Fengars' hammer. it was lost at the battle, I had feared it gone for ever, He wasn't... he didn't have it when we found..." He choked off the last few words drifting into his grief he turned to go but was stopped. His despair and sorrow all vanished with a simple weapon. A hug.

"Thanks, Hel" he said returning the embrace. "I needed that."

"Here" she said braking off and proffering the hammer.

"No lass, You keep it. You've earned the right to be the hope bringer, I haven't. No I'll need to build my own hope here, a big enough hope for all the mountains." He stretched his arms back. "I hope you got the scab that had Vanbjodr though" he said a dark edge to his tone.

"Lifa froze him alive" she said flatly.

"Good. ...Right" he slapped his hands together "I need to get back to this. Thanks for the barrel, I'll use it well. You get back to your sister, make sure the healers get it right."

"Yes, you look after yourself up here Dargy"

"Don't you worry about me Hel, I'll be just fine now"

She scampered back to the tribe. Dargan watched her go once more but with a brighter heart. He went back to the boulder and hefted it high. Somehow this time it weighed nothing at all...
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