MuseMart » Tag: Role playing

MuseMart » Tag: Role playing - Recent Topics http://www.musemart.com/ MuseMart » Tag: Role playing - Recent Topics en Thu, 09 Sep 2010 19:22:00 +0000 Audrey on "Burning Wheel Group Discussion" http://www.musemart.com/topic/burning-wheel-group-discussion#post-42 Wed, 27 Jun 2007 12:40:59 +0000 Audrey 42@http://www.musemart.com/ I'm moving the group discussion to its own thread, to make the other one easier to actually read. <img src="http://www.musemart.com/my-plugins/bb-smilies/default/icon_smile.gif" title=":)" class="bb_smilies" /> SO: Next gaming session is, at the moment, not this coming weekend, but the next, Saturday July 7th, at 5-6 PM. Just for future reference, directions to Gaite's house sitting job: From which ever direction you guys are coming, take I-25 to the Garden of the Gods exit and head west. Take that until you come to 30th and turn left. Take that until you come to Mesa something (don't remember the full name, the lady was speaking fast when she herself was giving me directions) and turn left onto that. Take Mesa up the hill and around the crop circle into the Kissing Camels gated community. Stop at the gate and tell them that you are going to Ms. Gildea's and give your name. After the gate house take the first immeadiate right. The road will fork in front of you, you want to follow the left fork until you come to Rockbrook lane and turn right. Her address is 3070 Rockbrook. It should be the 4 (?)th house down on the right side. Anything further about the gaming sessions that isn't writing or artwork can stay in here. <img src="http://www.musemart.com/my-plugins/bb-smilies/default/icon_wink.gif" title=";)" class="bb_smilies" /> Gumshoe on "The Barrens" http://www.musemart.com/topic/the-barrens#post-561 Tue, 11 Dec 2007 18:49:21 +0000 Gumshoe 561@http://www.musemart.com/ "I miss... Yes, I miss the old days. Back before. The days when the city thrived, when people were happy - more or less. Happier than they are now, anyway. When every new day wasn't just a struggle to survive. And I miss... Yes, I miss the seasons. Winter holds special memories. Snow. It's been so long since I've seen snow. White, pure, cold snow. Frozen water, falling from the sky... The festivities of the solstice. And fall, with the changing of the leaves. Oh, to have trees with leaves again. Ah, I miss... Hmm. I miss Magic. To think, we had spells. We could speak aloud, gesture a bit, get very serious... and we could bend nature itself to our whim. We could hold the light of day in a glass sphere, and use it to light out streets at night. We could heal all but death itself. So it seemed, anyway. Magic... you could use it to talk to someone a city away, if you had the coin. And with magic, you could even go there. A day's travel in a second. A week's travel, if the portal was big enough. And that's what got us here. Wherever here is. The biggest gate in the world, that's what they said it would be. Whole crowds of people could travel from one end of the known world to the next with our gate, and they could take as much with them as they pleased, and all at a reasonable cost. Well, it worked. It worked better than they'd hoped. Oh, the festivities they put on before the first travelers would use it! The priests blessed it (fat lot of good it did us), the city elders lauded it, the common folk ogled it. And the Mages preened. Oh, how they were proud of their creation. It had taken them years, they bragged, but they'd done it. Arrogant bastards. When it came time, the city square was packed to the gills. Everybody crowded in, sure that there would be some great display of magical whatsis. Flashing lights, or something. Nevermind that it was the same damn thing as every other gate, just bigger. The Mages didn't disappoint. They gave us a show, full of fireworks and speeches and the sorts of tricks you'd see at a carnival. It was all very festive. Right up until the moment they tried to make it work. It was a trade caravan, or most of one, that would go first. Complete with carts and animals, they all gathered onto the ornate stone platform and looked excited. Except for the animals... now that I recall, the animals had looked nervous. The Mages gathered round, said all they had to do was one simple spell and that would be it. We'd be the travel center of the known world, and we'd be rich. They did the spell. As far as anybody can remember, there was a bright flash of light. Most can't even remember that much. All we know as that it knocked everybody out, put them sound asleep. When we came to we were here, buildings and all. The whole city and everything in it transported gods know where. We called it The Barrens, because that's what it is. Barren. There was no vegetation, no animals. Just hard, blasted earth as far as the eye could see. Well, that's not strictly true. Sometimes there's rocks, or the things we call ironwood. They look like dead trees, all gnarled and twisty. No leaves. And charred looking, like they've been through a fire. But they're tough... so tough, you'd wear your ax out before you managed to cut one down. I know, because we tried. There are mountains, of course. Off in the distance. They look as dead as everything else. The few scouting parties we sent out went as far as they could before running out of food and water. They turned back, with nothing to report but more ironwoods and what they thought was a dried up river bed. What's more, there's no magic here. The Mages tried hard, those first few days. But nothing they did worked. Those globes? The ones we used to light the streets at night? They never came back on. And so here we are, in The Barrens. And here we're likely to stay." An uneasy silence descended on the classroom as the old woman finished speaking. The children, the for the most part, looked interested. It was always nice to hear stories about the time before. They were interesting, filled with the wonders of magic. But by the same token nobody wanted to be the first to ask a question. That would mean they had to stay here longer, when they could be outside doing something else. The teacher glowered at them. Ask a question or else, her expression said. This wasn't the first time they'd had an old person in to talk about life before, of course. By now the students knew that there were a certain set of questions you were expected to ask. One boy, sitting somewhere in the middle of the class, remitted under the teacher's gaze. "Um," he started. "How old were you when it happened?" The old woman smiled, folding her hands on her lap. "Why, I was just a young girl. Younger than you, I think." The teacher, foreseeing a litany of boring standard questions, decided to liven things up. "Elsa, why don't you tell us about the Split?" "Ah, the Split." The old lady nodded knowingly. "It was some weeks after we'd first gotten here. It was a big panic, then. All of our farmland was gone, left behind when the city transported. So there was little food, no source of water. By then we were digging the wells, of course, but none of them had hit anything. A lot of people figured they never would. Some wanted to stay and make due with what we had. The city was shelter, and something familiar. Others wanted to strike out into the wilderness, make for the mountains and hope they found something better. There were fights about it. It got ugly. Those that wanted to leave needed to take supplies with them, those that wanted to stay also needed supplies. Eventually a bunch of people all got behind a man named Eskal Garpin. They sat down with the city elders, and came to a deal. To avoid trouble they could have some supplies, but they didn't get as much as they wanted. And then they left, all hundred and twenty eight of them, out into the unknown. The Garpin Expedition, we called them. We all expected them to come straggling back a few days or weeks later, out of supplies and desperate. Begging to be forgiven for their stupidity." She trailed off, then, eyes focusing on the middle distance. "And did they?" the teacher prompted, even though she knew the answer. "No," the old woman shook her head sadly. "No, we never saw sign of them again. Such a waste. We sent a few scouting parties after them, of course, just to see... but they couldn't go far." "Thank you, Elsa," the teacher smiled. "I think that will be all for today. Next week we'll be going over magic, how it was used and some theories on why it doesn't work anymore." With a general commotion, the students spilled out of the classroom and onto the streets of the city. The teacher watched them go, shaking her head. Such a different world they lived in. Would they ever know the world that Elsa had known? "Thank you," she said. "I know they may not appreciate it now, but it's good for them to know where they came from." "Oh, you're welcome. And trust me, Agatha, I remember being in school," Elsa smiled wryly. "Funny you should bring up the Garpin Expedition, though," she added with a tilt of her head. "I've heard talk they're thinking of sending a determined search out into the wastes. To find out what happened to them." "I'm not surprised," Agatha replied. "In fact, I heard Henry was behind it." "No surprise there," Elsa said with a chuckle. "He's been itching to head an exploration party every since that survivor from Foraker's group came back babbling on about seeing something... a building, somewhere out in The Barrens, wasn't it?" "That's what they say, though as I hear it the poor man died before they could get anything specific out of him. It's always a tragedy when a group doesn't come back." Elsa nodded again, eyes once again becoming unfocused. "Yes... it certainly is." Janus on "A New Age Begins (planning thread)" http://www.musemart.com/topic/a-new-age-begins-planning-thread#post-258 Wed, 25 Jul 2007 02:46:22 +0000 Janus 258@http://www.musemart.com/ Okay, I wanted to make this thread as a kind of general information resource on the loose plot we have for A New Age Begins. The RPG is set in a medieval themed fantasy world, much like Middle-Earth, or any other number of low-tech fantasy stories you might have read. Audrey and I decided to leave this world intentionally somewhat undefined, so that we can build on it as we go. I think this thread will be a great place to discuss any various ideas we might come up with for the world, so that we can all get an idea of what's going on, and also so that we can see how to smoothly incorporate people's ideas. The plot we'll be beginning with is this: A small party will be leaving the Capital City of Argo, home of the Mage Tower, and residence of many of the Great Houses, as well as the dwelling place of the King. This small party is intent on reaching the abby of St. Katherine, which was formerly inhabited by a group of secretive monks. One man, the Lord Erik Paevir, is to search the abby for important historical books on behalf of his father. The other members of the party are intent on seeking out certain magical texts. Meanwhile, the warlord Kyrros is sweeping across the land, seeking to establish his own kingdom... or so it seems. The aged King, Orrin Vir Nahor, has made no attempt to stop this warlord, setting his already precariously perched crown on the edge of falling from his head. And so it is apparent that a new age is set to begin, one in which it is uncertain who will hold the reigns of power. Whichever Great House seizes the throne will have difficulty holding it, unless the warlord Kyrros can be stopped, and even that may be a secondary concern. Rumors have begun to spread from the north. Rumors of ancient troubles returning to haunt the lands once more. Welcome, my friends, to A New Age Begins. Audrey on "Yay for Flash RPGs!" http://www.musemart.com/topic/yay-for-flash-rpgs#post-125 Tue, 03 Jul 2007 12:34:16 +0000 Audrey 125@http://www.musemart.com/ This guy makes and is making some really excellent Flash RPGs. I'm amazed at how complex they are for Flash games. <img src="http://www.musemart.com/my-plugins/bb-smilies/default/icon_smile.gif" title=":)" class="bb_smilies" /> Makes me wonder how much I haven't learned in Flash! (The answer is a whole ton.) Check it out! It's fun and life consuming. <a href="http://www.fighunter.com" rel="nofollow">http://www.fighunter.com</a> Audrey on "Lux Eterna: The World (Originally posted by Janus)" http://www.musemart.com/topic/lux-eterna-the-world-originally-posted-by-janus#post-90 Wed, 27 Jun 2007 13:15:19 +0000 Audrey 90@http://www.musemart.com/ This thread will be for all the descriptions of stuff that I post--which should be a lot :p. This is something that finally came out of my head yesterday (when I sat down to write other stuff... figures...). It's something I've been visualizing for a few months, as this building actually plays a part in an adventure story set in a world I'm creating. Part of the reason for this detail is that some day I want to create a MUD of this world, and this building will be in the MUD--each room will need to be described in detail, so this will help me later on create more exact descriptions. I've never tried to write a 'general' description of a building in this manner before, so I honestly don't really feel that great about how it came out--It's lacking something, in my mind. Critiques are extremely welcome . FYI (you can skip all of this if you want--just general world information): The City of Avindar is a fairly new city (few hundred years old) that's kept by the northern men, many of whom are decended from the first half-elves. The half-elves once ruled each of the twelve great cities (the Crystal City was one of those) but eventually all of those lines fell out of power, most during a period known as the Heretic's rule. The Heretic's rule is extremely important because it created a split. Before the rule, all people believed in Nahor, the 'true god', and the worship of Negeb (an evil spirit who was once Nahor's highest in command till he turned) was outlawed and his priests hunted down by the clerics of Nahor. Since then, the worship of Negeb has grown, and become no secret. Because of this, there are many truly powerful clerics that follow Negeb--few Clerics of Nahor now have the power to hunt them down, and in many areas there is a growing trend towards Atheism, and the people of those areas throw out any clerics/priests who attempt to kill eachother because they don't want the trouble it brings. Clerical magic of any kind is now often regarded as being a form of 'regular' magic, and as such is outlawed within the bounds of any city, and completely outlawed in a few kingdoms. The reason for magic of any kind being outlawed within cities is because of a very powerful mage named Christopher Vir Kori who, in an attempt to reunite all mages, overthrew the head of the Order of Mages--to do this, he had to enter the city of Manthillos by force, and he basically leveled the city using his own power, and also a large group of other powerful mages. Magic, as a general rule, is not all that powerful as a weapon of mass destruction, however Christopher Vir Kori was an incredibly powerful mage--by nature the most powerful ever known in recorded history. He also had several magical items he used to boost his power, and he actually killed quite a number of mages and stole their magical essence, further boosting his own power. Most mages might be able to cast five or six hand-sized fireballs before they were too tired to even walk straight, but Christopher, when he destroyed the city, started his attack by using a fireball twice the size of a house to take down the main gates and destroy a group of wizards waiting behind them to stop him. Because of this, any person seen, or suspected, of performing magic inside of a city or within a mile of the city walls, is usually killed by the guards instantly. Outside of cities, magic is usually considered highly dangerous and perverted, but is also accepted to a degree. The Fay people are also 'outlawed' now, and hunted down by almost everyone because most people believe that they are creations of Negeb--even many of the people who don't believe in Nahor or Negeb think that they are evil, however they do generally tend to be less biased towards the the Fay than most religious people are. Keep in mind that the Fay people have always been considered dangerous, and this belief that they're evil was actually spread by the priests of Negeb to further split the races and create chaos. Most of the Fay races have the ability to shapeshift, and as such hide themselves within human society when they have to--most refuse to, however. ~_~_~_~_~_~~_~_~_~_~_~~_~_~_~_~_~_~~_~_~_~_~_~~_~_ ~_~ Deep within the Ice Vale, far to the North of the boarders of the kingdom of Avindar, are the ruins of a great city. When Faylloth fell during the wars before the Hereticâ€™s Rule, it was a haven for the fay races, and was called the Crystal City. The entire city was dedicated to the White Lady by the High Priests of Nahor at the same time as the White City was. Much of the Crystal City was destroyed by the Heretic himself, and more has been destroyed by time, and the fierce northern winds that have erased all roads leading to the ruins. But some remains. The great cathedral, built in honor of the White Lady, still stands intact, nothing broken or touched save for the great altar. It is split in half now, with diamonds and jewels beyond measure and counted wealth lying scattered about the ruins of the dais. Built of the purest white marble, the cathedralâ€™s walls stand taller than ten giants, and the roof itself forms a shelter too high for all shadows to be dispelled from it by any light of the sun. Higher than the walls, towers and parapets rise towards the sky with gargoyles and kings alike decorating their niches and curves, some half hidden by the snow, others seeming untouched by the power of the Northern winds and storms. Greater than any other tower of the cathedral, and higher than any tower now remembered or created by man, the bell tower rears towards the sky like a great marble spear. Higher than the clouds, itâ€™s top vanishes into the mist and swirling snow during the frequent storms. On a clear day, it can be seen for miles. Perched atop it, the likeness of a great white dragon crouches with wings spread wide and head tilted upwards, as if ready to make the short leap from the tower into the stars. Inside, the great wooden doors, half as high as the walls, and wide enough to let fifteen men enter abreast, keep out all of the winter and are unmoved by the most powerful winds. Alone, a single man may open and shut them so cleverly are they hinged. A powerful wooden bar is commanded by mechanisms of chain and wheels, all set to turn at the weight of two massive stone blocks, and controlled by a single lever. Entering, the darkness is lessened in the day by the great stained glass windows. Each is split into three, with a large window that reaches nearly to the floorâ€”twice as tall as it is wideâ€”and a smaller one set ten handsâ€™ breadths above it. Above that is set a round window. Numbering in the hundreds, each window is crafted so masterfully that it seems almost alive with scenes of celestial battles, the births of races, and landscapes as beautiful as the famed gardens of the White City. At night, a pale light comes to life. Beginning as only a wisp of light hovering above the broken altar, it gains radiance as it climbs towards the roof of the cathedral. Fully formed, it hovers above the head and outstretched arms of a great tapestry depicting the White Lady. Shedding light enough to faintly illuminate the entire building, it wanes and vanishes with the rising of the sun. The building itself is set like a great staircase that leads up to the altar. One step leads from the door to a plateau, and then three steps lead to a second plateau. Lastly there are ten great steps leading up to the altar. Standing at the altar, all noise in the cathedral is softer. But a word spoken before the alter will be heard reechoing to the great doors. Winding around and between two great pillars, a staircase near the entrance doors leads to the choir loft. The loft has room enough--and more--for the greatest choir and set of instruments known in any kingdom to be set up comfortably. Elevated and set close together, four platforms of rich and darkly colored wood stand before the marble rail that runs across the front of the loft, and each is large enough for two humans to stand together, up above the heads of any but a tall man. If a soft word may be heard from the altar to the door, a whisper will reecho like ten voices from the platforms. Empty now, except for tapestries and the broken altar, legend alone remembers the pews, smaller altars, paintings, and richly decorated statues that once filled the cathedral. What happened to the richly carved and gilded works is unknown, save for rumors of theft and desecration. Forgotten it stands and waits, perhaps to regain the glory it once contained, or perhaps to remain till the end of time as only a memory in the mind of scholars. Audrey on "A History Of Lux Eterna: Grand Mage Christopher vir Kori (Originally by Janus)" http://www.musemart.com/topic/a-history-of-lux-eterna-grand-mage-christopher-vir-kori-originally-by-janus#post-89 Wed, 27 Jun 2007 13:14:30 +0000 Audrey 89@http://www.musemart.com/ Vallaria suggested that I should post this, so I shall. Keep in mind that this right here is a rough draft--I didn't have an intro, so I thought I would slap one together before heading to bed. I doubt that I'll leave it as it is... it could use some editing . Basically, I'm writing a history for a world I'm fleshing out. One of the characters, Christopher, is an important part of my world's history, since he changed the rules that allowed only rich nobels to study magic, and then threw out some of the most powerful Mages in the Order. After being thrown out, those Mages banded together and created a group called the Shaddiri. They began to recruit students--not just any students. They scoured the land for students with great magical potential, and the tests they put them through killed the weak ones. The Shaddiri became extremely feared and still are today. There are a few groups and guilds whose work it is to hunt down the Shaddiri. Some Shaddiri choose to hide who they are, while some simply rely on their training to keep them alive. More recently, it's become the practice of some rogue groups to ask for the assistance of the Shaddiri. A Shaddiri is never bought, or even paid--they choose their own alliances, under the guidance of a small ruling council. They are extremely powerful, and know magic that most Mages either refuse to learn, are not powerful enough to wield, or that is outlawed by their Order. In other words, one Shaddiri is usually worth two or three Mages in a fight. Recently (relatively :p), the Shaddiri have learned magic that allows them to take another person as a Guardian, imbuing that person with some of their strength and other unknown abilities in return for the Guardian's protection. In the year 387 A.F., Grand Mage Christopher vir Kori lead the Great Mage Rebellion against the Arch Mage Uritar Poth, temporarily splitting the Order of Mages into three factions, and destroying the fourth Great City, Manthilos. It is well known and documented that this destruction is what lead to the banning of all magic within the Great Cities, and eventully the head hunt for Shaddiri Wizards. The rebellion was not swift in coming, nor in healing, and though two of the factions rejoined in the end, the third left the Order of Mages forever. That rogue faction became the Shaddiri in time, and the blame for the destruction of Manthilos is generally given to them. Christopher vir Kori is well remembered by the histories as possibly the most powerful Mage that has ever lived. He was the only magic wielder powerful enough to destroy the magical protections around Manthilos, and he was responsible for bringing the two factions back together by usurping Uritar, though he failed in the end to bring back the Shaddiri. It is not known for certain if he truly attempted to rejoin them at all, or if he cast them out of the order for their destructive behavior. There are many legends and rumors about Grand Mage Kori, but the following have been gathered and patched together from what is made public of the Grand Mage's diaries... And on the legend goes, as you may read in any history book. An old, estranged friend of Grand Mage Kori's gave â€˜notable serviceâ€™ on the battle field. Because of this, Grand Mage Kori changed the acceptance requirements for studying to be a Mage. Once only the rich and powerful could learn, but now all may come to study. That law remains unchanged today. But the legend is a poor account... the true story is one of envy, arrogance, betrayal, and in the end, friendship. A story fit for any bard's tongue, and true to the last words. No matter how the Mages attempt to exalt the history of their beloved Savior, his true story is remembered by the descendants of those who felt his hand; in punishing and in healing. So come, and I will tell you the story of Grand Mage Christopher vir Kori, and his one time servant, Mage Padrick vir Arkon... ~*~ Audrey on "The Four Amulets (Working Title) (Originally posted by Tensen01)" http://www.musemart.com/topic/the-four-amulets-working-title-originally-posted-by-tensen01#post-86 Wed, 27 Jun 2007 13:12:45 +0000 Audrey 86@http://www.musemart.com/ Okay, so, a while back my friend Micah ran a campaign of the game system Burning Wheel... he created his own world and back story... it was an excellent game and all players involved enjoyed in emensly. Well, I found out recently that he kept notes about what was going to happen to us in the game and I decided to take those notes and what I rememberd and write out the campaign as a short story... (the other players also decided to do it and then see how the versions differed) Here's what I have of the prologue written, it's basically going to introduce my friends Dawn and Jeffs characters. I will then get to my character, who ended up being the focal point of the game... This section is the tale of the young warrior Joaquin and how he gets introduced to the events that take place in the game. All these events are purely extrapolation on my part as they never occured in game, I'm taking them from what Jeff said about his background and that of his peoples culture. Joaquin <img src="http://tn3-1.deviantart.com/fs8/300W/i/2005/358/6/f/The_Prologue___WIP_by_Tensen01.jpg" /> so here it is, the in-progress prologue to an as yet unnamed story... it's just the first section... more will be posted as I finish it. I didn't spell check this.... ********************* THE FOUR AMULETS PROLOGUE "FALL BACK!" the young man yelled from his vantage point atop his warhorse, sword raised above his head. It didn't take his small band of troops long to obey, the seemingly endless stream of Orcs coming through the pass being plenty of incentive. The man stood in his sturrips, making sure his men beat a hastey retreat. The Orcs were slow to respond to the temporary advantage, the mouth of the pass being near choked with the bodies of the fallen, man and Orc. A few Orcish arrows did follow the retreat soldiers, some hitting their targets and driving barbed tips deep into the soft flesh of those few unlucky souls. "TO THE HILLS!" the mounted man yelled over the din as one of the grotesque black arrows pierced his upper arm. The man gritted his teeth as he turned his horse and joined his men. More arrows followed the group but fell mercifully short. The soldiers made good time through the hills and woods that butted up against the pass. Only the young man on his horse had any difficulty navigating the dense woods, but he knew his route, had studied and rode the track numerous times. The sound of pursuing Orcs followed the men, the curses of creatures unused to forest travel echoing across the vale. A thunderous wave of gutteral yells and harse battle cries bearing down on the tired men. They kept on for what seemed like ages until the young man spotted the caern that he himself had set just that morning. â€œA & B, flank, C with me,â€ he ordered â€œjust beyond the treeline!â€ As the group broke into the small clearing that had been their camp they obeyed the shouted commands. Maneuvers theyâ€™d practiced for near on a week were executed flawlessly. The man rode to the far end of the clearing and wheeled his horse around, a third of his troops fanning out behind him. He raised his sword, his arm throbbing from the arrow wound, and waited. His head was light from loss of blood and his legs cramped from the flight, but he had to push on through it, had to see this through. Heâ€™d has worse in the course of this war against the evil of the east, besides, once this was done he could a much needed and much deserved rest. Or so he hoped. But all thoughts of rest, all thoughts of pain were pushed from his mind as the first Orcs burst through the woods into the clearing. Soon the whole horde was pouring into the space he had picked. Some of his men hesitated, wanting to rush the Orcs, wanting to meet them head on. But their common sense and trust of the man kept them from charging in to their deaths. â€œHold,â€ he said, just loud enough for the nearest to hear â€œhold.â€ But soon the Orcs passed the narrow and shallow ditch that had been dug, also that morning, and his sword came down in a smooth sweeping motion, â€œALAI!!!!â€ he yelled with all his force as his horse reared up at his command. At the shouted word arrows sprang from the forest on both sides of the clearing, slamming into the Orcs on the outside as the remainder of his troops crashed into the horde from the rear, effectively cutting them off from any possible retreat while the men still lived. But the Orcs near the head paid no heed to their dying fellows, they had their target and pressed on, towards the man an his small contingent. Again the sword rose, and wavered slightly as the pain struck him, but he stayed on his horse and stared into the eye of the nearest Orc. â€œC forward!!â€ he commanded as he spurred his horse towards the foul creatures. As he neared the forward most Orc his sword dropped, cleaving into the beasts skull, bone and blood spraying out from the wound as the creature dropped. His men also met this charge, both the front and the rear, fighting bravely, swords and axes slamming into the green-skinned horrors. The archers had moved out from the woods as well, firing their short bows until they had no more arrows, then drawing their shortswords and joining the fray. It seemed forever, but in only minutes the Orish horde had been reduced to a mass of green and red. But they had gone down fighting, for every Orc that lay in the clearing, two men also laid, dead. It was a hefty toll the men of the Insmarch had paid that day, but also was it a victory, something that was becoming ever more rare in the relentless war that was plaguing their land. And that alone made it a good dayâ€¦ KING ISMAEL stood, bent over the heavy folding table that took up nearly half the space in his black and gray striped campaign tent. Papers covered every square inch of the tablesâ€™ heavily scarred surface. Maps, reconnaissance, expense accounts, casualty reports, all the trappings of a typical war spilled over the edges. Though this war was far from typical. In a typical war you knew who you enemy was, who the leaders were, you knew their skill and strength of arms. You could guess when and where they would attack. In a typical war your enemy would give up, would fall back and regroup, your enemy would attempt to err on the side of caution. This was anything but a typical war. Ever since the darkness had taken root in the East a seemingly endless stream of Orcs. goblins and other horrible creatures had swarmed into the southern Kingdom of Insmarch, killing indiscriminately, attacking farms and villages with no concern for their own casualties. Most of the Kingdom now lay in ruin, once prosperous towns now infested with the evil denizens. The army of Insmarch, such as it now was, and what was left the Kingdoms citizens had been pushed further West and North, nearly to the edge of itâ€™s borders, the people having to abandon the lands that had been their homes for generations uncountable. â€œYour Majesty?â€ came a voice from the tent flap, pulling the King out of his reverie. He raised his head to look at the young page he had sent out yesterday morning, the young boy was soaking wet, his cloak carelessly thrown back, hair plastered to his forehead from the rain that fell. â€œYour Majesty,â€ the page said again â€œI found him.â€ The King straightened, easing his back as he spoke â€œWell bring him in then Elias, I didnâ€™t have you track him down and bring him all the way here so he could be left standing in the rain.â€ â€œYes, your Majesty,â€ the boy said hurriedly as he pulled aside the tent flap and motioned towards the King â€œYou may enter, sir.â€ The young man who had been waiting outside in the rain entered and pulled back his hood as he kneeled. His dark hair was tied back into braid that hung down his back, the braid was a little worse for wear, as were his clothes, travel-stained and in need of much mending, the left arm of his once nice wool coat stained crimson with once dried blood, now again wet from the rain, a bandage bulging out the stained coat sleeve. His riding boots were scuffed from much recent use, mud caking the heels, coating his spurs. â€œYou call, Sire, and thus I come,â€ the young man said, right fist pressed to his chest. â€œLeave us, Elias,â€ the King said, dismissing the young page â€œI must speak with this man alone.â€ The page hesitated, glancing at the kneeling man â€œLeave us, Elias, if I am not safe with this man then nowhere am I safe.â€ The page hesitated again but trusted his king judgement, and with a bow, fist to chest, he passed through the tent flap into the stormy night. The King watched the flap fall, shutting out the cold night. The King walked around the table, â€œStand up son,â€ he said as he gripped the young mans shoulder. â€œItâ€™s good to see youâ€™re okay, son,â€ he walked over to a small side table on which stood a battered silver pitcher, steam rising from it â€œYou look like you could use something to drink,â€ he filled two just as battered goblets â€œMulled wine?â€ he asked as he held it out to the young man. â€œThank you sire, yes,â€ the man said as he accepted the goblet. He held the cup but didnâ€™t not drink, â€œPardon my asking sire, but why am I here? I should be with my menâ€¦â€ â€œThey are no longer your men, son,â€ the king said, cutting him off, setting his goblet down, â€œIâ€™ve assigned a new commander. Amilcar has been dispatched,â€ The king held up his hand, forestalling the young mans objection â€œHe will be bring the troops back here to rejoin with the rest of the army.â€ He turned and shuffled through a sheef of paper on the table â€œAt which point we will be removing ourselves from the area and into the Western wilds,â€ â€œSire,â€ the young man interrupted â€œDo you mean to tell me youâ€™re withdrawing the army and the people from the Kingdom? Running to the hills and hiding?!â€ warm liquid spilled over his hand, the goblet now a crushed mass of silver in his tensed fist. â€œWhat Iâ€™m telling you, son, is that we are falling back and assessing our losses,â€ he took the ruined goblet from the young mans hand â€œWe cannot win this war, not alone, and every day we stay and fight more of my people die, people who I will need when we are ready to take our land back.â€ He set the goblet down and turned back to the young man â€œWhich is where you come in. You have the makings of a great commander, son, but right now I donâ€™t need commanders, I need reinforcements, I need people of like mind who will not only help remove this evil from our land, but take the war to the one in charge, and remove this darkness forever.â€ He sighed â€œBut I do not have those people here. I need you to travel into the other Kingdoms, and tell the people of our plight, warm them that if they do not act they will be next. The darkness has no concern of borders, it will spread until it covers the whole land. That cannot be aloud to happen.â€ â€œSire, Iâ€™m not a diplomat, Iâ€™m not a great speaker. Surely there are others better qualified for such a task.â€ â€œThere were, yes, but they were the first dead when the Orcs came, they tried, at my bidding, to reason with the creatures.â€ He picked up his own goblet and drank â€œBut even if I still had those men I would not send them. They were speakers, true, but they would not have been the ones fighting the creatures. They would know only of numbers, percentage of losses. You know what these monsters are capable of,â€ he motioned to the young manâ€™s arm â€œYou have seen first had their tenacity and their available power. Something a diplomat would not be able to convey.â€ He turned back to the table â€œYou are not the only one Iâ€™m sending, son. So do not think this war rests solely on your shoulders. When Amilcar returns he will be heading to the West, into Carnaciin. Perla will be heading to the South, into the Kingdom of the Serpent Sands. And Severo will be going with you, North, and then parting company and heading East, into Braile and the Elven kingdom.â€ The King stepped forward and placed his hand on the young mans shoulder â€œYou will then turn to the West, over the mountains into Uurland. Myself and the rest fo the forces will be following you." â€œIt will take time, Sire. Not just for the travel but for the mustering as well. The people will not be easy to convince. They will not care about something that does not yet threaten them.â€ The King squeezed his shoulder â€œThen you must make them see that what does not threaten the today will threaten them tomorrow, and the only way to keep themselves safe is to deal with the threat before itâ€™s upon them. Once an enemy is inside your walls the battle is all but over. You will not be doing this alone, I assure you. Myself and the rest of the forces will be following you within the week." The King paused "This is not an exile I go into willingly, but it is what must be done if we are to have any people left to rebuild later" He clapped the young mans shoulder â€œNow go, you have a lot of work to do to get prepared. You have a week to gather your supplies and choose which men youâ€™re taking with you. Choose eight who will accompany you.â€ *********************************** Comments please!!