Terres des Légendes

Kallum Falls

He stood watching the three others go through the shimmering wall that flowed over the cave mouth. Kallum had thought about touching it, but the others had shook their heads, so he paused and lowered his arm.
It was clear they’d been followed by some small sort of dragon-like thing that he’d not been able to see as of yet. It seemed intent on staying nearby, but as far as Kallum could see it was rather annoying and not very useful.
They’d been standing around the cave mouth for about a minute, when the sound of clattering stones began and the ground around them began to rise into humanoid shapes. No faces, or other features marked these creatures, just the stony ground now moving as a human might.

In his mind these forms moved a little awkwardly and slowly, however one must always be cautious with the unknown, a thought he began to voice when his charge ran by him at one of the figures. It was clear to Kallum that staying behind or nearby him weren’t in the dwarf vocabulary. A few quick blows of their earthen arms and the dwarf lay prone on the ground. Kallum’s heart grew cold and he embraced his newly unlocked inner rage and began to swing “Peacemaker” around him, attempting to work his way over to the fallen dwarf.
Around him the remaining members of the party attacked as best they could, but the earthen forms hit with surprising strength.
Kallen was hit by the larger of the earthen “people” twice, it was at that point he knew they were in dire trouble. With the other three party members on the other side of the shimmering curtain engaged (or so he figured), he knew they’d be too late to save him.

The enraged part of his mind kept roaring for blood and revenge, while the overwhelmed calmer side of his personality was suddenly reflective. He fought on hacking and swinging, while his calmed mind though that while he’d not see his mountainous home again, at least he’d die on a mountain, up in the thin air and stone.

He saw the blow that killed him coming, but was so enraged that he was unable to avoid it, moving towards it to deliver a blow of his own. Kallum shuddered as the stone arm cracked into his chest, the armor doing little to deflect the force of the blow. "Peacemaker slide from his hands and he followed winding up in a massive heap in front of the figure who’d killed him.

Kallum looked at the tan and grey stony ground now a inch from his face, he wasn’t able to focus and the sounds of the others engaged in combat were dim sounding like he was underwater. “I’m dying, and wasn’t able to follow through on the oath’s that I took…I would hope that I won’t be too harshly judged…” with that final though Kallum slid from this world into the next.

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He who laugh last...

Yozel rarely left his little confortable sanctuary, even less so now with the weather being out of balance… But there he was, a good day away from home, braving the bitter cold muttering curses every step of the way, following a goat down the mountain, . But not just any goat mind you…

Bikkeke bleated. They had reached their intended destination… and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

«They really did a number on you Zardosh… but I don’t doubt a second you deserved it.»

Yozel, cleared his throat and started chanting. A minute in into the chant, Yozel reached into his pouch and lifted a diamond aloft. As he did, it started to disintegrate… the powdering bits gentling falling on Zardosh’s corpse below, magically mending the fatal wound.

Yozel concluded the spell with a flourish, giving a swift kick into Zardosh ribs, who upon contact coughed back to life, rolling to his side.

-«✱Cough✱ ✱Ach✱ Wh… why?»

-«Couldn’t let you go with the last word, now couldn’t I? And now that I saved your hide, I’ll always have that on you!»

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Walking towards the capital

On our way towards the capital, there were a couple of incidents…

Hint of possible ambush…

We crossed the original location with the berry bushes and encountered our other gnomish friend. He stated that our 2 day stay with Yozel was not part of his agreement and because of this, he was forced to eat all the berries and give them to the Trolls to keep them off us. Dieb, with his usual manners, decided to confront and threaten to eat the gnome’s pet (which we did not see anywhere)…. I thanked the gnome and said we would be on our way…

A little later, not to far away, we saw this giant thing having a conversation with the 2 Trolls that were following us… They were not bothering us, so we decided to continue making our way towards the coast.

Close to the end of day, not really paying much attention to the terrain, we ended up in a perfect ambush situation. We were attacked by these 4 white ape like creatures who were trowing rocks at us. During combat, I permitted Sybellinth to regain her Unholy Symbol to help us. We dispatched them quickly enough. The group did well and we were almost working as a unit. But some of the party members did suffer some wounds.

We needed to get out of this death trap and tend to our wounds. We made our way a little further to find a location to make camp. Sybellinth offered to tend to the wounds of Dieb, but was refusing the help… He clearly has trust issues!

Unfortunately, during the night, we suffered another ambush. A fog cloud was casted upon our camp. We found that the giant gnomish figure with his 2 troll buddies were attacking us. I am proud to say that the group performed very well and our assailants were dealt with. They will no longer bother anyone! (treasure: Amulet of Natural AC +2).

In a gesture of good will, I offered Sybellinth her unholy symbol so she could pray to her god in the morning, and be more effective in the future combats.

It’s then that Dieb revealed to me that Sybellinth did something stupid by trying to use her compulsion powers on him so she could submit him to her will and treat him. That did not go over too well…. Fortunatelly the Drow is still alive! But it wasn’t acceptable, so I took back the gesture and took her symbol away, not permitting her to pray.

Sybellinth then did something stupid again and tried to use her compulsion powers on me. She says she did not have any malicious intent… She simply felt she could be more helpful and contribute if she got to pray to her god. Strike two! Request denied! I had harsh words with our guest and told her to never try this again… Not even on Dieb! Evidently Dieb smirked and was surprisingly cheerful the following days.

As for the Amulet of Natural AC, the group was trying to decide who it should go to. Dieb made a convincing point so the the amulet was awarded to him. It was a surprise and welcome change to see Dieb a little happier and content than usual.

Ubir started to show interest in the texts from Yozel and each morning I decided to spent a little time with him to better understand this way of thinking. [GM to provide us with the though of the day… <grin> ]

A few days later, I permit Sybellinth to pray to her god in the morning. She tries to open up and explain her ways and the philosophy of her god. She evens offer an interesting surprise and transforms herself (using a spell) into an Eladrin. She goes on and asks if I think she would be better accepted if she stayed like this. I bluntly stated that her illusion could not change what we though of her overnight… She seemed very disappointed and sad!

Over time, Sybellinth and I spent some time together. I agreed to teach her my language and she has agreed to teach me the drow language. I know what she is and understand her treacherous nature. But them I see she knows what is waiting for her and that it will not be easy. I can’t help to be intrigued by her and admire her courage to take the steps to start a new life for herself…

I

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The Fey lands - Towards the Capital (Elessar)

We stayed a couple of days in a cavern not to far from Yozel’s place, to give a chance for Ubir and Yozel to exchange ideas. Yozel is a particular gnome with interesting notions on Religion on Gods. He provided us some much needed information on the geography of the Fey lands. In exchange, he gave us a huge collection of scripts which highlight his ideas and thoughts on the gods. He wants us to bring it with us and find someone who to whom we can give these texts and spread his ideas. He also warned us about the other mischievous gnome…

Fey_Lands_1.jpg

Yozel suggested that the Eladrins could have more information and knowledge on the failing portals between our Material plane and the Fey lands.

Sybellinth wants to go towards Shinaelestra, the city of Autumn. This is were we can find Dökkálfar: Court of the winter elves. It is 4 months away, and we would have to go through Fomorian lands, a race of large deformed giants. Yozal highly recommends we avoid this route.

To the North West, there is also Shinaelestra, the fading city. There, we can findLjósálfar: Court of the summer elves. It’s also about 4 months away.

To the North West, we can also find the Eladrin capital city of Astrazalian. The city is currently rules by the Summer elves. The problem here is that the city seems to be in the middle of the sea. Yozel suggests we may find a gnomish community near the coast, and they could potentially provide transportation. Sybellinth says she cannot enter the Eladrin Capital city of Astrazalian without getting instantly killed. Her only option is to seek asylum in Shinaelestra.

Yozal has also informed us that the Fey land Winters seem to be growing longer, and summer periods was getting shorter. He imagines that the Summer Elves are probably not very happy about this. I suspect this imbalance is linked to the portals failing. I’m also thinking that since the Summer and Winter elves each take turn governing at the Capital city, it’s reasonable to think there must be portals linking the capital to their cities.

It appears the trip will be long. So I suggested we head North-West towards the coast and determine if we can find transportation to take us to the capital city. If we cannot secure a boat, then we’ll simply follow the coast west into Fomorian territory and make our way towards one of the other 2 Eladrin cities.

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Following the track (Aka Dieb interpretation)

The coming of the owlbear made some of us prepare for worst, but taking a few steps in Urbir just demonstrated the best fighter in him by just killing outright the bear. From there on, the group started following the tracks made by the bitch escapee that would just die in the caves.

Following her tracks, the group got somewhat separated and Rognar, Eodum and I encountered some of the same little rock bastard that where in the caves. What a bunch of little hard f*&**rs! We tried pretty much everything as damages: piercing, blunt and slashing to no avail, only my acid blast seemed to do damage, but that got their attention and they simply targeted me until I dropped. Well, once we retreated they left us be.
Back on my feet, we followed them and the elf’s tracks. We found some of them fighting with some dark elves. We saw how to get through them! We have to destroy their armor! Anyway, some elves died – good, some of these bastards, good also.

As we travelled, we saw a big ass fortress being besieged by the little bastard. We learn that it was an elvish fortress of fall? Spring? Not sure about the season but anyway, it feels to the bastards…. Sweet poetry to my ears… what a shame we have to know what the hell is going on…

We continued following the cowardly elves from that witness combat. Once darkness came, we established a camp and them the same bitch that escaped us in the caves got to our camp. What a shame she is still alive, but she indicated where we can find more elves… now she has given us stinking stuff from her and we are somewhat stuck wiith her for some time. I say we go find the other elves in the morrow

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Kallum's Tale

Kallum hadn’t had a problem with coming down from the mountains. He was fulfilling the oath he’d taken and would honor it, to his death if need be. The fact that the reasons for the oath didn’t really involve him directly weren’t important now. A oath had been sworn and he would have to follow the terms, as they’d been laid out with the elders almost a month ago.

He hadn’t had a choice and knew it was up to him to do the best he could do about it, this meant protecting the dwarven priest. In some ways it wasn’t going to be that hard. The dwarf was short and moved slowly and deliberately like Kallum did. As long as he could stay within a few sword lengths it could be rather easy.
The difficult part was that the dwarf spoke, this was the piece that Kallum couldn’t control. Priests were a odd lot and he’d not ever had much to do with them, and now he was realizing why.
A priest who moved around such as this dwarf was trying to secure converts for his church, a church of the “One God” no less. Kallum kept his mouth shut on the matter of the “One God” when the dwarf asked him, he preferred if he was thought to be a bit slow. He’d show the dwarf the real reason he was along and bound into his service, that would be in battle.

Kallum’s Tale Continued

Kallum sat bored out of his mind as the dwarf and gnome sat out on the grass discussing various esoteric religiously themed drivel (in Kallum’s mind). He ran a whetstone over “Peacemaker” while the animated discussion continued and continued. It was somewhere within these hours of discussions that he decided he’d give in to something that had been nagging at him for some time.
In proper Goliath society the barbarian warrior had a higher social standing, in both practical matters and in all the collected lore and legend of his people. He’d always thought himself above that and had endeavoured to remain above the fray, seeking a purer path. Being almost killed by the Manticore had bothered him on a number of levels, and he now saw that he could atone for his failings by embracing his culture. Kallum now could see the practical reasoning as to why he could now give in to the supressed anger and rage he’d tamped down for so long.
His dour mood brightened enough that he even cracked a slight smile as he ran the whetstone down the length of his sword. This acceptance also meant he’d have a greater chance of fulfilling his oath and keeping his charge alive. He could see how silly and foolish he’d been to shortchange his own culture instead of embracing it.

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A land without a king...

As the bells of churches of Albonie toil to mourn the late king, throughout the land the nobles and their knights are congregating. «The King is dead! The King is dead!» the news had spread as quickly as a plague. After weeks of increasingly erratic behavior, King Hadric had murdered his son and only heir and committed suicide.

With their death, the Jerihar line had become extinct, just has the Osteruns had only a generation before.

With no clear successor to the throne, many unscrupulous nobles, here and abroad, are gathering their forces to stake a claim to the throne or to support someone elses claim with hopes their support would be remembered. A weak or spurious claim could very well be made law by force of arm and the next Albonian king be crowned on the battlefield.

The Baron Aldred called his knights for counsel and Castle Colburn was alit with activity. Also present are Dakan, Verruckt, Gaul and the Leper fresh from their victory against Baker’s men. As they make their way to the council room, Dakan and Verruckt ponder to themselves: Was Sharizeh’s prophecy unraveling before them?

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Baker's half-dozen

For a second time in a few hours, the old Cathedral was bustling with activity. City guards were rounding up the corpse of the fallen combatant and lining them up for Algernon’s inspection. As he was surveying the scene, Algernon was lost in thought. It was as the dwarf had said; Stilleppo l’escamoteur, Oly «Light Feet», Rigolo and Ikar the Black had been slain. Algernon had mixed feeling for the demise of his former allies. On one hand, it is true that it was through them that Gorki’s will was forged in his favour but on the other, there was an opportunity to grasp in this development.

He had made great strides in his attempt to unify the city of Clyster under his leadership but his position as Gorki’s heir and his indirect association with the Baker‘s dozen limited his ability to expand his influence further. With the arrest of One-eyed Lotney, the mysterious disappearance of Tempus the frail and the assassination of Jadhak le Balafré, more than half of the Baker’s dozen had been removed from the picture. As a faction in Clyster politic, their power was irrevocably curtailed. Algernon would be able to leave Baker’s shadow.

Algernon stood in silence looking at Ikar lifeless body, the half-orc that had been instrumental in his rise to power.

«Ah Ikar!» Algernon thought to himself.

«They forced my hand but maybe it was for the best that the deed was done through their sword rather than mine. I realize this was inevitable. It’s a brave new world, there is no place for your kind in it.»

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Verruckt' Momento Morri

Dans l’aube grandissante et la brume disparaissant remplacer par les échos des cris de souffrances entremêlées d’injures, insultes et blasphèmes montait tranquillement le léger brouillard de la terre du cimetière causé par l’ultime affrontement entre les agents du lépreux et la douzaine de Baker. Le combat atteint son paroxysme lors que Rigolo, d’un geste sec, pensé et haineux tranche le cou de la fille de Kreelo.

Dans cet instant, infiniment rapide, Verruckt revoie les derniers événements comme dans un rêve. Son départ pour les terres du Tahashim à la recherche de la femme de Balin. Ce voyage sans fin dans un pays de sable, d’une culture complètement différente et sans point commun de référence. S’étant fait voler, humilier, traiter de voleur et d’assassin n’a certes pas aider Verruckt à apprécier le pays et sont cadre culturel. Forcer de faire alliance avec des orcs, ogres et même une troll voyante afin de pouvoir accomplir la mission du groupe et retrouver et libérer la femme de Balin. Durant leurs voyage de retour, un groupe d’assassin a diriger le blâme de leur infâme assassinassions sur Verruckt et son groupe. Rien de tel pour que goutte d’eau débordant du vase rende quelconque écho de ce pays maudit et malsain une grogne et une haine incontrôlable.

Finalement de retour au pays, vert et gracieux, parsemé de rivières et d’arbres avec des gens partageant une culture qui n’est pas toujours basé sur l’avarice et comment dépouiller sont prochain. Nous nous sommes vites retrouvé dans une situation de déjà vue : Gorki le maudit! Voulant gagner plus d’influence dans la ville de Clyster, le lépreux nous a demandé de le faire disparaître. Conjointement avec des dragons attaquant la ville et mon ancien rival de formation Ward. Dès que l’occasion se présente, Ward trahi et le groupe se retrouve dans le jeu infernal de Gorki, sorti ou mourir… Mais même ce jeu ne parvient pas avec son Léviathan à octroyer la mort à Verruckt et son groupe. Sortie de ce jeu, trouvant le manoir de Gorki et libérant le dragon s’y trouvant, celui-ci ne fit qu’une bouché de Gorki, mission dérisoirement accomplit!

Clyster, champs de batail de l’ombre, la lutte pour le pouvoir et le contrôle de la ville est maintenant ouverte à la mort de Gorki. Verruckt, avec Kreelo, Brocc et Balasar se retrouve encore du côté du lépreux à essayer de renverser la vapeur et la douzaine de Baker. Nous n’avons éliminé que deux membres lorsque la confrontation présente se déroule.

Focussant sur le coup fragile de la fille de Kreelo, celui-ci dandinant d’une côté et de l’autre dans les bras de Rigolo, giclant du sang qui se coagule en boue avec la terre du cimetière forçant une image arrêté d’une poupée chiffonné que l’on jette après usage… Le sang gicle encore, colorant de rouge pourpre le sable proche de cou… La réalité frappe à la porte de la raison, quel être démoniaque peut sans scrupule et d’un geste assurer trancher la gorge d’un innocent? Qui peut faire un acte de cette atrocité? … Moi!? … quoi? Non – jamais… Oui… Non… plus maintenant… enfin quel est cette vision Rimfaxienne? Suis-je ensorcelé par des survivants de Balor? Que m’est-il arriver pour ne ressentir qu’une douce folie à ce geste Rimfaxien? Je ne suis loin d’être un ange mais je ne suis pas un démon! Libera te tutemet! Libera te tutemet! Je suis libre maintenant de Riamfax et ses suppos! Mort au coupable, justice et vie aux innocents!

Je dois faire amende auprès de mes compagnons, ma force et ma magie serviront désormais une conscience et non une vengeance Balorienne…

Le combat atteint son paroxysme lors que Rigolo, d’un geste sec, pensé et haineux tranche le cou de la fille de Kreelo… le moment présent reprends son momentum, les gestes de tous et chacun semble revenir à un tempo normal, rapide et opposant une résistance à mes attaques et moi aux leurs… je crie ma haine et ma honte !

S’ÉS O NO S’ÉS! … S’ÉS O NO S’ÉS! RIGOLO NO S’ÉS!!!!

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The hunter becomes the hunted...

The news of Jadhak’s death sent Baker into a rage. At this outburst the young man delivering the news looked down and avoided eye contact as not to draw attention to himself. A smart move, as Baker would be just the type of man to kill the messenger.

Sudden troubles between Toma the Hawk and One-eyed Lotney, mysterious individuals asking around for the members of the Dozen and now this? Ikar the Black listened attentively but was having difficulty making sense of this. He dismissed the messenger to freely share his thoughts with his boss.

«I find it hard to believe the Red Wings would be involved.»

«Of course they have nothing to do with this! A lone glaive-wielding Dragonborn accompanied by a gnome and a human mastering the arcane… this is obviously the work the Baron’s lackey.»

«Could Tempus have really betrayed us for the Baron Aldred

Baker scoffed at the notion: «Tempus? Impossible! He would never turn on us. Furthermore, that man had a death wish, he would have fought to the death!»

«Maybe some mind-control magic was at play?»

Baker paused for a second to consider the possibility:
«Hum… Very few would be capable of such feat. To have that kind of mastery over one’s action would only be possible to an enchanter of great power… It would certainly be within the means of Dominion, but this is why I have that mongrel under watch at all time of day! I would have known it by now had he tried anything of the sort.»

Baker, having completely regained his composure, continued:
«No, Ikar. I believe that was actually Kreelo in disguise. It will be easy to test my hypothesis and if it proves correct, with his daughter in our custody, flushing him out will be child’s play.»

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