And this Two-Blade-Clovis fellow has better be the victim of a very dire misunderstanding
[Diary] Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Crossover with Esteren
Re: [Diary] Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Crossover with Esteren
The dream part was a good one! I actually wondered whether you had truly chosen to have Haestan and all the other three knights killed, which would have been quite an amazing feat!
And this Two-Blade-Clovis fellow has better be the victim of a very dire misunderstanding
And this Two-Blade-Clovis fellow has better be the victim of a very dire misunderstanding
Allez, come on, allons-y, here we go, en avant, godspeed, hardi, let's do this!
Re: [Diary] Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Crossover with Esteren
Actually I was looking for a name that sounded good with the German translation ob Two-Blades' which is "Zwei-Klingen". This was rather improvised on spot, so I needed a good sounding name. And "Zwei-Klingen-Klovis" just fitted nicely. Like I said, no other intention here than coming up quickly with a mercenary's nickname.
I thought about making the slaughtering real but since my wife did not realise it being a dream, I didn't. If she would have said 'Ah, this is a dream anyway', I would have made it real. You know, just to toy around with her expectations and make a good story.
I thought about making the slaughtering real but since my wife did not realise it being a dream, I didn't. If she would have said 'Ah, this is a dream anyway', I would have made it real. You know, just to toy around with her expectations and make a good story.
Re: [Diary] Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Crossover with Esteren
Oh, of course! I didn't even think that you might have translated "Two-Blades". How slow-witted of me. Don't worry, I wasn't offended... well, not that much, at any rateAhab a écrit :Actually I was looking for a name that sounded good with the German translation ob Two-Blades' which is "Zwei-Klingen". This was rather improvised on spot, so I needed a good sounding name. And "Zwei-Klingen-Klovis" just fitted nicely. Like I said, no other intention here than coming up quickly with a mercenary's nickname.
Yeah, a classic! However, making the dream a reality would sure have made the adventure much grimmer and harder for her, what's with having her protector killed and having to run away with an insane killer hot on her heels.I thought about making the slaughtering real but since my wife did not realise it being a dream, I didn't. If she would have said 'Ah, this is a dream anyway', I would have made it real. You know, just to toy around with her expectations and make a good story.
Allez, come on, allons-y, here we go, en avant, godspeed, hardi, let's do this!
Re: [Diary] Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Crossover with Esteren
Thanks for the inspiration! Never too late to bring in an insane killer.Clovis a écrit :Yeah, a classic! However, making the dream a reality would sure have made the adventure much grimmer and harder for her, what's with having her protector killed and having to run away with an insane killer hot on her heels.
Maybe next time she will expect it to be a dream again, when her character wakes up to find Haestan brutally murdered again. But this time it's real. Nice twist!
Re: [Diary] Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Crossover with Esteren
Session 4 took place, and since we managed to have my sister-in-law take care of our baby boy, we had a little more time and could finally cover some ground.
* * *
After hurrying away from the desolated inn and the Hilderin knights with their entourage of murderers and rapists, Artis and Haestan climb up the Mòr Ròimh. Two days later they notice a couple of crows sitting in the conifer tree tops, just watching them, making no sounds. After the two have passed the bird, the whole flock raises loudly, covers a couple of hundred yards and settles again in the treetops a few yards before Artis and Haestan. They repeat this strange behavior and from now on become steady companions on their way up the mountain.
Three days later, Artis and Haestan reach the tree line and step out into the open mountain range. Far up the hill, at least two miles away, they discover, between two giant mountain tops, a mist-clouded passage. A couple of feet in the mist and mostly veiled, they see a huge column protruding from the ground. This seems to be the first of the pillars that connect the huge brass chain which leads down the Mistway.
They step out into the open, and suddenly the crows get nervous, as if they suddenly realize where their object of interest is heading to. They start cawking and settle in the wanderers’ way, as if to keep them from entering the mist. Slowly, and with drawn weapons, Artis and Haestan make their way through the ever growing flock of crows. The bird seem to get angrier with every step the two are coming closer to the mist. And as they realize that their nonviolent means do not help, they raise from the ground and start going StuKa on the wanderers.
Artis just pulls her coat over her head and hurries towards the mist. Haestan, more brave than clever, raises his shield and wields his sword against the crows. Whereas Artis only collects a couple of minor hacks and picks, Haestand gets severely injured by the unnaturally aggressive birds. Head over heals the two rush into the mist. For a few yards, Artis notices dark schemes darting through the fog like sling shots. But the deeper she ventures in, the lesser they become. Artis screams Haestans name, but the sound of her voice is absorbed by the mist and sounds strangely dull. She also hears muffled shouts, but she cannot identify the direction they’re coming from. As this all becomes too much for her, Artis suddenly loses consciousness.
She wakes up an undisclosed amount of time later, still surrounded by thick fog. Clever as she is, Atris follows her blood trickles back to the fringes of the fog and sees, that there are still crows cawking and ranting about their prey having escaped. Artis needs to find the first pillar again, so she decides to run out of the fog, scream and shoo the crows, quickly look for the pillar and then run into the fog again. So she does, and it works. The crows fly up, and some of the already withdrawing birds turn around in the air to attack again. But Artis is fast enough and finds the pillar. Then she runs into the mist again and manages to locate the pillar in the soup. She feels her way around the huge construct and finds the massive brass chain.
There she ties her rope around her hip and to the chain and starts to move out in circles to look for Haestan, screaming his name. On the left side of the chain, she hits the cliff wall after around 5 yards, but on the other side, the ground breaks off after two yards, and only with a courageous backyard leap she can avoid dropping into the abyss (even if roped up). But however long she is seeking and shouting for him, Haestan is nowhere to be found. Dishearted, Artis decides to abandon Haestan and move forward, groping her way along the heavy chain.
After three days of sightlessly putting one foot in the front of the other, with her thoughts becoming voices which answer themselves, and seeing all kinds of figures and schemes in the mist, Artis’ sight suddenly clears, and she steps out of the mist and into a breath-taking vista. She drops onto her knees and starts crying in relief. After her tears have dried she sets camp in a mountain hut close to the pass. There, so she decides, she will wait two days for Haestan to come out of the pass. She has a beautiful view of the slope down the mountain, a huge mountain lake in the deep below her and the vast reaches of the Whispering Wood beyond it. The Moràil Peak rises up in the north, its peak vanished in the clouds.
One night in the mountain hut, Artis dreams again. This time she awakens on a stony altar in a damp dark place with torches at the wall. She rises and follows the only corridor leading out of the chamber. At the end of the corridor, she steps into a partly natural cave, where a very, very old man dabbles with some stuff on a table. She can quickly recognize this as a Demorthèns cave, with all the herbs and parchments, written on leather sheets, all sorts of mortars and other stuff. He is looking on a very old looking painted leather sheet depicting a humanoid creature with some sort of mask, thick strands of hair reaching over the back of his head, and huge antlers protruding from his forehead. To his feet, several people lie dead, and for above his head, a comet is depicted. In the old language, the man talks in, she ever again hears the word “Ineluki”, not knowing what it means.
Artis talks to the man, and at first he does not seem to hear or see her. He even walks through her! But after she shouts and shouts at him, he suddenly seems to hear something. Inch by inch they manage to acoustically draw nearer to each other. After a few minutes, the strange language even starts to make sense to Artis. The man introduces himself as “Merec”, and he tells her it’s strange to hear someone, who’s not a Demorthèn, to use the dream street, because it is usually only available to Demorthèn, and only after lengthy rituals. Then, suddenly, the man tells her, she might be an agent of the enemy, and he cannot risk to have contact with her. He disappears from her dream. Then, the cave collapses, and Artis is buried by rubble. Then she wakes up.
Haestan does not come, even after two days, and with a heavy heart, Artis leaves the place. Three days later, she reaches a village of tree fellers who send their cut trees down a wild water rush. Only a couple of tree trunks are processed in the village itself. The villagers do not have visitors very often, so Artis’ appearance is quite a topic. Kids run after her an poke her with questions, and mothers apologize for their brats. The men are mostly working in the sawmill and the woods.
Artis rents a room in the village’s inn, a small etablissement called Bottle and Blade. There she eats a good meal and writes her journey log, when suddenly some villagers come in and ask her if she will tell them some news and stories. The innkeeper even proposes to waive her room rental, if she would. So despite her heavyheartedness, Artis yields and tells some of her adventures and what news she has learned on her journey (keeping the latest events out). The next three hours, she is fairly distracted from her issues, and after she told the people she wanted to go to the trade route from Tuaille to Osta-Baille, the people propose for her to ask Velder, the head of the local sawmill. So Artis ends her days by settling a deal with this Velder figure: she can travel on his horse cart down to a town called Gévon, where the tree logs are processed, and she in turn tells him news and protects him on his route.
The next day, they do as agreed upon. Velder regularly ventures down to Gévon to collect the cash for the tree logs that were cut in and around his village. During his travel down the mountain, he always counts the trees which got stuck somewhere on the river, so he will know whether the sawmillers in Gévon are trying to get the better of him. Also he can tell his workers to free the tree logs from the tanglewood.
After two days of comfortable travelling they reached Gévon at the main trade route between Tuaille and Osta-Baille. There Artis jumped the cart of a certain Master MacBrennan, who transports some of Gévons famous wood works to the capital. After four more days in the company of this rather taciturn man, Artis finally reaches Osta-Baille.
The vista is breathtaking, and Artis – even if more confortable in the woods – cannot help but be thrilled about her stay in the capital. Master MacBrennan takes her through the tangles of the undercity and up the long and winding slope to Díol. From there they cross the huge bridge to Tradail. At the gate they are accompanied by a Toscaire, a city guide for the upper quarters. After Master MacBrennan has reached the carpenters’ guild, Arties and he amicably part ways, and the Toscaire leads her to the next gate and bride.
The bridge to Saoithin is rather steep, and Artis has to fight a sudden rush of vertigo. But she manages to keep her cool, and the district of scholars and universities is crossed quickly. At the gate to Uasal, they meet some unexpected difficulties, though. A young lieutenant of the City Watch demands to see Artis’ Varigal signet ring (which I introduced to distinguish the true Varigals from the make-believers). Even after she has shown him the unharmed sigil from Prince Josa and told him she has to deliver the message personally, the lieutenant does not want to let her in, seemingly because he wants to earn the prestige of delivering a princely message himself. Only after a proper speech and pointing out her status as a Varigal, Artis managed to break the bastard. He couldn’t refrain from giving her a solid threatening, though.
The Toscaire led Artis to the Demorthèns property close to the Riochas Bridge. Breac Ap’Lyr lives in a small tower in midst an overgrown estate, which features a large Menhir in the middle. The Toscaire tells her, that all the nobles living in this part of town despise the man and his estate because he just doesn’t belong, and his grounds look like crap. But he is kind of nice.
They knock the door, and an elder man with long white hair and a long beard opens the door. Artis introduces herself, and Ap’Lyr asks her in. He bades the boy to wait on the ground floor of the tower while he and Artis go upstairs and discuss matters. Artis delivers her message and waits impatiently for him to read it. His facial expressions derail a little, and he murmurs “Oh, oh. Oh, oh.” But without any fuzz, he gives Artis her payment. She then tells him of the dangers she and her companion met in the wild, as there are intelligent Feonda which stole her messenger bag to deliver it to some floating black face with gleaming red eyes, or swarms of crows trying to pick her eyes out while hindering her at vanishing in the fog of the Mistway. Also she tells him of her concern regarding the other two Varigals, Prince Josa has sent out, and Ap’Lyr tells her she’s the first to visit him. But he ensures her, that the message’s content is well worth the peril.
Artis tells him about her strange dream where she met this Demorthèn called Merec, and Ap’Lyr is astounded that she can use the Dream Street although she is no Demorthèn. Also he tells her, that Merec is the oldest Demorthèn known to be alive. He resides somewhere in the Osag clan territory. He says, he must think about what that means. But he is sure, that there is something very, very special about her.
Then she asks him, if it’s true that the King is dying, and Ap’Lyr confirms. That’s why there are so many nobles and courtiers around. And she would do well not to cross paths with soldiers in green embroiderment with a boar head above two crossed spears. These are the soldiers of Prince Elia, Duke of Gorm. The man is a monster, but will be the next King nevertheless. But he and his men are notorious troublemakers. And it gets worse, when Prince Josa and his men will arrive in a few days. The two princes hate each other, and so do their men.
Artis asks for the reason, and Ap’Lyr tells her, that nearly a decade ago, Prince Elia was fighting in a skirmish at the border to Reizh. He entrusted his then beloved brother to escort his loved one to him, Hylissa, mother of Princess Miriamel (who, in fact, is completely different from her father). But on the way to Elia’s encampment, they got into an ambush, and Reizhite mercenaries poured in on them. Josa fought like a lion to save Hylissa from the outlanders, and lost his right hand during the battle. Hylissa, though, was hit by a stray arrow and died at the spot. It not only broke the heart of Prince Elia, but Josa’s as well. And of course that of Princess Miriamel, but unlike her father, she never blamed Josa for her mother’s death. From that moment on, Elia hated his brother with all his heart. He blamed him for being responsible for his wife’s death, for undermining his authority, even for planning on poisoning his father and afterwards him, so Josa could grab the throne. Whenever these two meet, all hell breaks loose. But it’s always Josa who wants to appease his brother, to accept his burden and the guilt, and Elia is always the one screaming and raging.
But the worst, according to Ap’Lyr’s judgment, it Prince Elia’s Demorthèn, a strange and eerie fellow named Goraidh. This character has no hair whatsoever and always dresses in fiery red robes. His voice is unsettling and snarling, almost like a gleeman’s voice. Him she should avoid at any costs. This man is a monster without any humanity.
Artis thanks him for this advise – still a little shaken about all this information – and heads down to the gate. This time she brings a permanent invitation to Uasal – of course written by the Demorthèn – which of course lets the guard lieutenant fume. Smiling, Artis leaves Uasal and heads down to Dìol to rent a room somewhere.
After she has stashed the things and rested a little, she gets outside to catch a glimpse of the nightlife in Dìol, to grab something to eat and enjoy the atmosphere. After she has strolled a while, she suddenly hears muffled screams and sees movement in the crowd before her. The people suddenly burst apart, and she sees a horse cart racing towards her. Although she tries to leap into safety, she is not fast enough and gets hit by the horse. Artis gets swirled around and dashes into a heap of bags next to a street booth. It all went very fast, but it took only a split second to get a glimpse of a bald head above a fiery red robe, who – every pore spraying out his arrogance – thundered through the crowd as if they were cockroaches.
* * *
With this first impression of the Prince’s Demorthèn, I ended the session.
* * *
After hurrying away from the desolated inn and the Hilderin knights with their entourage of murderers and rapists, Artis and Haestan climb up the Mòr Ròimh. Two days later they notice a couple of crows sitting in the conifer tree tops, just watching them, making no sounds. After the two have passed the bird, the whole flock raises loudly, covers a couple of hundred yards and settles again in the treetops a few yards before Artis and Haestan. They repeat this strange behavior and from now on become steady companions on their way up the mountain.
Three days later, Artis and Haestan reach the tree line and step out into the open mountain range. Far up the hill, at least two miles away, they discover, between two giant mountain tops, a mist-clouded passage. A couple of feet in the mist and mostly veiled, they see a huge column protruding from the ground. This seems to be the first of the pillars that connect the huge brass chain which leads down the Mistway.
They step out into the open, and suddenly the crows get nervous, as if they suddenly realize where their object of interest is heading to. They start cawking and settle in the wanderers’ way, as if to keep them from entering the mist. Slowly, and with drawn weapons, Artis and Haestan make their way through the ever growing flock of crows. The bird seem to get angrier with every step the two are coming closer to the mist. And as they realize that their nonviolent means do not help, they raise from the ground and start going StuKa on the wanderers.
Artis just pulls her coat over her head and hurries towards the mist. Haestan, more brave than clever, raises his shield and wields his sword against the crows. Whereas Artis only collects a couple of minor hacks and picks, Haestand gets severely injured by the unnaturally aggressive birds. Head over heals the two rush into the mist. For a few yards, Artis notices dark schemes darting through the fog like sling shots. But the deeper she ventures in, the lesser they become. Artis screams Haestans name, but the sound of her voice is absorbed by the mist and sounds strangely dull. She also hears muffled shouts, but she cannot identify the direction they’re coming from. As this all becomes too much for her, Artis suddenly loses consciousness.
She wakes up an undisclosed amount of time later, still surrounded by thick fog. Clever as she is, Atris follows her blood trickles back to the fringes of the fog and sees, that there are still crows cawking and ranting about their prey having escaped. Artis needs to find the first pillar again, so she decides to run out of the fog, scream and shoo the crows, quickly look for the pillar and then run into the fog again. So she does, and it works. The crows fly up, and some of the already withdrawing birds turn around in the air to attack again. But Artis is fast enough and finds the pillar. Then she runs into the mist again and manages to locate the pillar in the soup. She feels her way around the huge construct and finds the massive brass chain.
There she ties her rope around her hip and to the chain and starts to move out in circles to look for Haestan, screaming his name. On the left side of the chain, she hits the cliff wall after around 5 yards, but on the other side, the ground breaks off after two yards, and only with a courageous backyard leap she can avoid dropping into the abyss (even if roped up). But however long she is seeking and shouting for him, Haestan is nowhere to be found. Dishearted, Artis decides to abandon Haestan and move forward, groping her way along the heavy chain.
After three days of sightlessly putting one foot in the front of the other, with her thoughts becoming voices which answer themselves, and seeing all kinds of figures and schemes in the mist, Artis’ sight suddenly clears, and she steps out of the mist and into a breath-taking vista. She drops onto her knees and starts crying in relief. After her tears have dried she sets camp in a mountain hut close to the pass. There, so she decides, she will wait two days for Haestan to come out of the pass. She has a beautiful view of the slope down the mountain, a huge mountain lake in the deep below her and the vast reaches of the Whispering Wood beyond it. The Moràil Peak rises up in the north, its peak vanished in the clouds.
One night in the mountain hut, Artis dreams again. This time she awakens on a stony altar in a damp dark place with torches at the wall. She rises and follows the only corridor leading out of the chamber. At the end of the corridor, she steps into a partly natural cave, where a very, very old man dabbles with some stuff on a table. She can quickly recognize this as a Demorthèns cave, with all the herbs and parchments, written on leather sheets, all sorts of mortars and other stuff. He is looking on a very old looking painted leather sheet depicting a humanoid creature with some sort of mask, thick strands of hair reaching over the back of his head, and huge antlers protruding from his forehead. To his feet, several people lie dead, and for above his head, a comet is depicted. In the old language, the man talks in, she ever again hears the word “Ineluki”, not knowing what it means.
Artis talks to the man, and at first he does not seem to hear or see her. He even walks through her! But after she shouts and shouts at him, he suddenly seems to hear something. Inch by inch they manage to acoustically draw nearer to each other. After a few minutes, the strange language even starts to make sense to Artis. The man introduces himself as “Merec”, and he tells her it’s strange to hear someone, who’s not a Demorthèn, to use the dream street, because it is usually only available to Demorthèn, and only after lengthy rituals. Then, suddenly, the man tells her, she might be an agent of the enemy, and he cannot risk to have contact with her. He disappears from her dream. Then, the cave collapses, and Artis is buried by rubble. Then she wakes up.
Haestan does not come, even after two days, and with a heavy heart, Artis leaves the place. Three days later, she reaches a village of tree fellers who send their cut trees down a wild water rush. Only a couple of tree trunks are processed in the village itself. The villagers do not have visitors very often, so Artis’ appearance is quite a topic. Kids run after her an poke her with questions, and mothers apologize for their brats. The men are mostly working in the sawmill and the woods.
Artis rents a room in the village’s inn, a small etablissement called Bottle and Blade. There she eats a good meal and writes her journey log, when suddenly some villagers come in and ask her if she will tell them some news and stories. The innkeeper even proposes to waive her room rental, if she would. So despite her heavyheartedness, Artis yields and tells some of her adventures and what news she has learned on her journey (keeping the latest events out). The next three hours, she is fairly distracted from her issues, and after she told the people she wanted to go to the trade route from Tuaille to Osta-Baille, the people propose for her to ask Velder, the head of the local sawmill. So Artis ends her days by settling a deal with this Velder figure: she can travel on his horse cart down to a town called Gévon, where the tree logs are processed, and she in turn tells him news and protects him on his route.
The next day, they do as agreed upon. Velder regularly ventures down to Gévon to collect the cash for the tree logs that were cut in and around his village. During his travel down the mountain, he always counts the trees which got stuck somewhere on the river, so he will know whether the sawmillers in Gévon are trying to get the better of him. Also he can tell his workers to free the tree logs from the tanglewood.
After two days of comfortable travelling they reached Gévon at the main trade route between Tuaille and Osta-Baille. There Artis jumped the cart of a certain Master MacBrennan, who transports some of Gévons famous wood works to the capital. After four more days in the company of this rather taciturn man, Artis finally reaches Osta-Baille.
The vista is breathtaking, and Artis – even if more confortable in the woods – cannot help but be thrilled about her stay in the capital. Master MacBrennan takes her through the tangles of the undercity and up the long and winding slope to Díol. From there they cross the huge bridge to Tradail. At the gate they are accompanied by a Toscaire, a city guide for the upper quarters. After Master MacBrennan has reached the carpenters’ guild, Arties and he amicably part ways, and the Toscaire leads her to the next gate and bride.
The bridge to Saoithin is rather steep, and Artis has to fight a sudden rush of vertigo. But she manages to keep her cool, and the district of scholars and universities is crossed quickly. At the gate to Uasal, they meet some unexpected difficulties, though. A young lieutenant of the City Watch demands to see Artis’ Varigal signet ring (which I introduced to distinguish the true Varigals from the make-believers). Even after she has shown him the unharmed sigil from Prince Josa and told him she has to deliver the message personally, the lieutenant does not want to let her in, seemingly because he wants to earn the prestige of delivering a princely message himself. Only after a proper speech and pointing out her status as a Varigal, Artis managed to break the bastard. He couldn’t refrain from giving her a solid threatening, though.
The Toscaire led Artis to the Demorthèns property close to the Riochas Bridge. Breac Ap’Lyr lives in a small tower in midst an overgrown estate, which features a large Menhir in the middle. The Toscaire tells her, that all the nobles living in this part of town despise the man and his estate because he just doesn’t belong, and his grounds look like crap. But he is kind of nice.
They knock the door, and an elder man with long white hair and a long beard opens the door. Artis introduces herself, and Ap’Lyr asks her in. He bades the boy to wait on the ground floor of the tower while he and Artis go upstairs and discuss matters. Artis delivers her message and waits impatiently for him to read it. His facial expressions derail a little, and he murmurs “Oh, oh. Oh, oh.” But without any fuzz, he gives Artis her payment. She then tells him of the dangers she and her companion met in the wild, as there are intelligent Feonda which stole her messenger bag to deliver it to some floating black face with gleaming red eyes, or swarms of crows trying to pick her eyes out while hindering her at vanishing in the fog of the Mistway. Also she tells him of her concern regarding the other two Varigals, Prince Josa has sent out, and Ap’Lyr tells her she’s the first to visit him. But he ensures her, that the message’s content is well worth the peril.
Artis tells him about her strange dream where she met this Demorthèn called Merec, and Ap’Lyr is astounded that she can use the Dream Street although she is no Demorthèn. Also he tells her, that Merec is the oldest Demorthèn known to be alive. He resides somewhere in the Osag clan territory. He says, he must think about what that means. But he is sure, that there is something very, very special about her.
Then she asks him, if it’s true that the King is dying, and Ap’Lyr confirms. That’s why there are so many nobles and courtiers around. And she would do well not to cross paths with soldiers in green embroiderment with a boar head above two crossed spears. These are the soldiers of Prince Elia, Duke of Gorm. The man is a monster, but will be the next King nevertheless. But he and his men are notorious troublemakers. And it gets worse, when Prince Josa and his men will arrive in a few days. The two princes hate each other, and so do their men.
Artis asks for the reason, and Ap’Lyr tells her, that nearly a decade ago, Prince Elia was fighting in a skirmish at the border to Reizh. He entrusted his then beloved brother to escort his loved one to him, Hylissa, mother of Princess Miriamel (who, in fact, is completely different from her father). But on the way to Elia’s encampment, they got into an ambush, and Reizhite mercenaries poured in on them. Josa fought like a lion to save Hylissa from the outlanders, and lost his right hand during the battle. Hylissa, though, was hit by a stray arrow and died at the spot. It not only broke the heart of Prince Elia, but Josa’s as well. And of course that of Princess Miriamel, but unlike her father, she never blamed Josa for her mother’s death. From that moment on, Elia hated his brother with all his heart. He blamed him for being responsible for his wife’s death, for undermining his authority, even for planning on poisoning his father and afterwards him, so Josa could grab the throne. Whenever these two meet, all hell breaks loose. But it’s always Josa who wants to appease his brother, to accept his burden and the guilt, and Elia is always the one screaming and raging.
But the worst, according to Ap’Lyr’s judgment, it Prince Elia’s Demorthèn, a strange and eerie fellow named Goraidh. This character has no hair whatsoever and always dresses in fiery red robes. His voice is unsettling and snarling, almost like a gleeman’s voice. Him she should avoid at any costs. This man is a monster without any humanity.
Artis thanks him for this advise – still a little shaken about all this information – and heads down to the gate. This time she brings a permanent invitation to Uasal – of course written by the Demorthèn – which of course lets the guard lieutenant fume. Smiling, Artis leaves Uasal and heads down to Dìol to rent a room somewhere.
After she has stashed the things and rested a little, she gets outside to catch a glimpse of the nightlife in Dìol, to grab something to eat and enjoy the atmosphere. After she has strolled a while, she suddenly hears muffled screams and sees movement in the crowd before her. The people suddenly burst apart, and she sees a horse cart racing towards her. Although she tries to leap into safety, she is not fast enough and gets hit by the horse. Artis gets swirled around and dashes into a heap of bags next to a street booth. It all went very fast, but it took only a split second to get a glimpse of a bald head above a fiery red robe, who – every pore spraying out his arrogance – thundered through the crowd as if they were cockroaches.
* * *
With this first impression of the Prince’s Demorthèn, I ended the session.
Re: [Diary] Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Crossover with Esteren
The plot keeps thickening I see!
Allez, come on, allons-y, here we go, en avant, godspeed, hardi, let's do this!
Re: [Diary] Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Crossover with Esteren
At last! We managed to continue our Esteren/MST crossover. It was about time. We bought a house and had a lot of work to do, which unfortunately kept us from gaming. Well… now we have a fine house instead.
So, what happened?
* * *
After Artis, our brave Varigal, was nearly overridden by Goraidh the alleged Morcail, she goes into her inn room to lick her wounds. The next days until the arrival of Prince Josa in Osta-Baille she goes sightseeing. Artis visits the grave of Taol-Kaer, the elevators of Diol, the might waterfall towering over Osta-Baille and other beautiful places.
One evening, all the bells in the town suddenly start ringing, and the shouting spreads like wildfire: king Erald MacAnsweald is dead. Candles and lamps are lighted, and the whole crows seems to be awe-struck. They go on about their business, but there is something in the air, Artis has never witnessed before. It is the smell of change. A powerful change. She is about to witness history. One king dies, another is being crowned. This is something you experience only once in a lifetime, if ever. This almost cheers her up, as absurd as this may seem.
Then she meets Megan, one of the other Varigals sent out by the prince. Megan is heavily pissed and fuming. The prince told her to go by sea and change ships at every port in order to cover her tracks. She did so, but despite her efforts, two of the total of five ships she travelled on were attacked at sea. Attacked by the so called Kilpa, humanoid sea-dwellers with long claws, mouths like deep sea fish and small black beady eyes. Their skin was so pale and translucent that she could see the muscles working beneath it. And they made no secret of who they were looking for. Most of them were looking at her and trying to get to her. But the ships’ crews were able to fend them off. However, Megan has had enough and wants nothing to do with this. She already collected her money from Ap’Lyr, and now she is off to Gwidre, where she will lay low until whatever is going to happen here is over.
Then, on the third day after her almost-rundown, the crowd suddenly starts cheering around Artis when Prince Josa, his first knight Deornoth and the rest of the prince’s entourage come riding up the slope to Diol. Artis stands beside the street in the midst of the crowd and watches them arrive. Josa notices her, and whispers something to Deornoth, who immediately turns around and steers his horse toward Artis. He briefly tells her: “Tomorrow, eighth hour of the evening in Ap’Lyrs tower. Don’t get followed.” Then he turns around again and catches up with his prince. Vara, the Tarish companion of the prince gives Artis a long and elusive look. Then the entourage is around the corner.
Artis, pretty nervous now, wastes the whole following day, because all she can think about is the meeting with the prince later that evening. When the time finally comes, she ventures up to Tradail, further to Saoithin and finally to Uasal, for which she has received a permit from the dead king’s Demorthèn. There she creeps through the shadows to make sure that she wasn’t followed.
After what feels like ages, she reaches Ap’Lyr’s tower and knocks. The door opens, and the old man rushes her in. Josa and Deornoth are sitting in the Demorthèn’s study and talking in a low voice. When they recognize Artis, they stand up and welcome her. The prince thanked and assured her that he in no way considered possible the kind of opposition Artis and the other two Varigals have had to face. Megan was already there and gave him a clear mouthful of her opinion. The prince already heard from the old Demorthèn, that Artis also had to face very grave dangers and asks her to report in her own word
After she has finished, there is a moment of silence. Then the prince tells her, that the message she was carrying was well worth the danger. It is the sealed indictment of Goraidh, the new king’s Demorthèn. He stands accused of being a Morcail, and of reading forbidden tomes and abusing the spirits and demons of nature to serve his sinister plans, whatever they may be. The plan was to send this dépêche to Ap’lyr so he could inform the Tsioghair which is taking place a couple of weeks from now, about the wrongdoings of this individuum. The Tsioghair is the one institution of the Demorthèns where they all come together to discuss important Demorthèn matters, initiate young Ionnthèns and, last but not least, judge their fellow brothers. Unfortunately something is blocking the Dream Street, which is used by the Demorthèn to communicate over long distances. Ap’Lyr corrects the prince by saying it is not blocked but rather very dangerous because someone or something very powerful is hunting the dreamers on the Dream Street.
The prince explains to her the implications on Taol Kaer: with a morcail on his side, his brother, the king-soon-to-be, will split the land. They fear that their beloved country might fall into civil war. Exploitation and war might rage. But then, Josa waves aside and tells Artis, that she needs not hear this. This is not her war. She is a Varigal who can make her money and life on all kinds of different places. Artis firmly tells him, that Taol Kaer is her country as well. She tells him that she wants to serve him and also her country. She might be a loner and wanderer, but she has never forgotten where she came from.
Deornoth, the first knight of the prince demands from her to swear an oath of loyalty to the prince. So Artis does. She pledges to serve and protect him, so bring justice to him and his beloved ones. To protect the borders of the realm, if necessary, and to give his life to his cause if necessary. Only now, the prince gives back to her the dépêche and asks her to deliver this to the Tsioghair in person. She is to attend the dead king’s funeral and afterwards vanish through secret passages in the cliffs of Osta-Baille down to the Undercity and to the harbor.
On the morning of the king’s funeral on the top of the mountains – a grassy plateau where the cairns of all late kings since the founding of Osta-Baille have been interred – Deornoth picks her up at the inn. Together they ride up the bridge to Tradail, where the dead king lies in state and is being bade farewell by the family members and nobles. Artis and Deornoth queuing in and follow, as the carriers lift the dead king’s palanquin and carry him up the mountain to the Kings’ Barrows. The whole town queues in to a huge fire worm of burning torches who say goodbye to their late king.
The cairn of King Erald is the only open one on the plateau, and the nobles are forming a guard of honor on both sides of the path into the grave. The carrying knights settle the dead king into the cairn, salute him and turn around to leave. Now one noble after the other steps into the grave to bid the king farewell and make his peace with him.
Ap’Lyr seems to notice something which upsets him very much. Artis follows his looks and notices that the king’s son Elias does not wear the king’s legendary sword Hellnagl. Even worse, as Josa steps into the cairn, he carries Hellnagl in his hands and lays it down onto the body of the king. Deornoth face is stern and unmoving, but the old Demorthèn is fuming. Many other noble are also aghast. Only the close family members of the king are unmoved. Artis looks at Goraidh, who is standing on the opposite site and looking directly towards her. Suddenly she hears a voice inside her head: “Who do we have here, little birdy? What makes you so important that you are allowed to stand beside that old dodderer? What is your role in our little chamber play?” Artis is shocked and tries desperately not to look at Goraidh and, most of all, answer him somehow … with her thoughts. She is relieved, when they finally retreat from the cairns and go back down the hill. Ap’Lyr means her to follow him to his tower.
After their arrival Ap’Lyr opens a hatch in the floor and lightens a torch. Then he tells her to board a ship called Cloud of Smardg – a ship belonging to the Count of Smardg, who is loyal to Prince Josa. The path below will lead her down into the undercity. Artis grabs the torch, her stuff and ventures into the deep. This aons old path leads down underground slopes and spiral stairs without end. Suddenly she sees daylight and notices, that she finds herself in the flank of the cliff, looking through carved windows down on Osta-Baille. Obviously the whole mountain is hollow like an ant nest. For hours she follows this path until she reaches a stone door. Behind it she finds a narrow mausoleum. She steps through the building’s door and out into a small graveyard in the undercity. From there she hurries to the harbor where she boards the ship mentioned by Ap’Lyr.
The Count of Smardg is a handsome fellow with golden hair, charme and an exquisite taste in clothing. Nevertheless he seems to have a firm grip on his crew, and the Cloud exits port in no time.
More to come in the next days.
So, what happened?
* * *
After Artis, our brave Varigal, was nearly overridden by Goraidh the alleged Morcail, she goes into her inn room to lick her wounds. The next days until the arrival of Prince Josa in Osta-Baille she goes sightseeing. Artis visits the grave of Taol-Kaer, the elevators of Diol, the might waterfall towering over Osta-Baille and other beautiful places.
One evening, all the bells in the town suddenly start ringing, and the shouting spreads like wildfire: king Erald MacAnsweald is dead. Candles and lamps are lighted, and the whole crows seems to be awe-struck. They go on about their business, but there is something in the air, Artis has never witnessed before. It is the smell of change. A powerful change. She is about to witness history. One king dies, another is being crowned. This is something you experience only once in a lifetime, if ever. This almost cheers her up, as absurd as this may seem.
Then she meets Megan, one of the other Varigals sent out by the prince. Megan is heavily pissed and fuming. The prince told her to go by sea and change ships at every port in order to cover her tracks. She did so, but despite her efforts, two of the total of five ships she travelled on were attacked at sea. Attacked by the so called Kilpa, humanoid sea-dwellers with long claws, mouths like deep sea fish and small black beady eyes. Their skin was so pale and translucent that she could see the muscles working beneath it. And they made no secret of who they were looking for. Most of them were looking at her and trying to get to her. But the ships’ crews were able to fend them off. However, Megan has had enough and wants nothing to do with this. She already collected her money from Ap’Lyr, and now she is off to Gwidre, where she will lay low until whatever is going to happen here is over.
Then, on the third day after her almost-rundown, the crowd suddenly starts cheering around Artis when Prince Josa, his first knight Deornoth and the rest of the prince’s entourage come riding up the slope to Diol. Artis stands beside the street in the midst of the crowd and watches them arrive. Josa notices her, and whispers something to Deornoth, who immediately turns around and steers his horse toward Artis. He briefly tells her: “Tomorrow, eighth hour of the evening in Ap’Lyrs tower. Don’t get followed.” Then he turns around again and catches up with his prince. Vara, the Tarish companion of the prince gives Artis a long and elusive look. Then the entourage is around the corner.
Artis, pretty nervous now, wastes the whole following day, because all she can think about is the meeting with the prince later that evening. When the time finally comes, she ventures up to Tradail, further to Saoithin and finally to Uasal, for which she has received a permit from the dead king’s Demorthèn. There she creeps through the shadows to make sure that she wasn’t followed.
After what feels like ages, she reaches Ap’Lyr’s tower and knocks. The door opens, and the old man rushes her in. Josa and Deornoth are sitting in the Demorthèn’s study and talking in a low voice. When they recognize Artis, they stand up and welcome her. The prince thanked and assured her that he in no way considered possible the kind of opposition Artis and the other two Varigals have had to face. Megan was already there and gave him a clear mouthful of her opinion. The prince already heard from the old Demorthèn, that Artis also had to face very grave dangers and asks her to report in her own word
After she has finished, there is a moment of silence. Then the prince tells her, that the message she was carrying was well worth the danger. It is the sealed indictment of Goraidh, the new king’s Demorthèn. He stands accused of being a Morcail, and of reading forbidden tomes and abusing the spirits and demons of nature to serve his sinister plans, whatever they may be. The plan was to send this dépêche to Ap’lyr so he could inform the Tsioghair which is taking place a couple of weeks from now, about the wrongdoings of this individuum. The Tsioghair is the one institution of the Demorthèns where they all come together to discuss important Demorthèn matters, initiate young Ionnthèns and, last but not least, judge their fellow brothers. Unfortunately something is blocking the Dream Street, which is used by the Demorthèn to communicate over long distances. Ap’Lyr corrects the prince by saying it is not blocked but rather very dangerous because someone or something very powerful is hunting the dreamers on the Dream Street.
The prince explains to her the implications on Taol Kaer: with a morcail on his side, his brother, the king-soon-to-be, will split the land. They fear that their beloved country might fall into civil war. Exploitation and war might rage. But then, Josa waves aside and tells Artis, that she needs not hear this. This is not her war. She is a Varigal who can make her money and life on all kinds of different places. Artis firmly tells him, that Taol Kaer is her country as well. She tells him that she wants to serve him and also her country. She might be a loner and wanderer, but she has never forgotten where she came from.
Deornoth, the first knight of the prince demands from her to swear an oath of loyalty to the prince. So Artis does. She pledges to serve and protect him, so bring justice to him and his beloved ones. To protect the borders of the realm, if necessary, and to give his life to his cause if necessary. Only now, the prince gives back to her the dépêche and asks her to deliver this to the Tsioghair in person. She is to attend the dead king’s funeral and afterwards vanish through secret passages in the cliffs of Osta-Baille down to the Undercity and to the harbor.
On the morning of the king’s funeral on the top of the mountains – a grassy plateau where the cairns of all late kings since the founding of Osta-Baille have been interred – Deornoth picks her up at the inn. Together they ride up the bridge to Tradail, where the dead king lies in state and is being bade farewell by the family members and nobles. Artis and Deornoth queuing in and follow, as the carriers lift the dead king’s palanquin and carry him up the mountain to the Kings’ Barrows. The whole town queues in to a huge fire worm of burning torches who say goodbye to their late king.
The cairn of King Erald is the only open one on the plateau, and the nobles are forming a guard of honor on both sides of the path into the grave. The carrying knights settle the dead king into the cairn, salute him and turn around to leave. Now one noble after the other steps into the grave to bid the king farewell and make his peace with him.
Ap’Lyr seems to notice something which upsets him very much. Artis follows his looks and notices that the king’s son Elias does not wear the king’s legendary sword Hellnagl. Even worse, as Josa steps into the cairn, he carries Hellnagl in his hands and lays it down onto the body of the king. Deornoth face is stern and unmoving, but the old Demorthèn is fuming. Many other noble are also aghast. Only the close family members of the king are unmoved. Artis looks at Goraidh, who is standing on the opposite site and looking directly towards her. Suddenly she hears a voice inside her head: “Who do we have here, little birdy? What makes you so important that you are allowed to stand beside that old dodderer? What is your role in our little chamber play?” Artis is shocked and tries desperately not to look at Goraidh and, most of all, answer him somehow … with her thoughts. She is relieved, when they finally retreat from the cairns and go back down the hill. Ap’Lyr means her to follow him to his tower.
After their arrival Ap’Lyr opens a hatch in the floor and lightens a torch. Then he tells her to board a ship called Cloud of Smardg – a ship belonging to the Count of Smardg, who is loyal to Prince Josa. The path below will lead her down into the undercity. Artis grabs the torch, her stuff and ventures into the deep. This aons old path leads down underground slopes and spiral stairs without end. Suddenly she sees daylight and notices, that she finds herself in the flank of the cliff, looking through carved windows down on Osta-Baille. Obviously the whole mountain is hollow like an ant nest. For hours she follows this path until she reaches a stone door. Behind it she finds a narrow mausoleum. She steps through the building’s door and out into a small graveyard in the undercity. From there she hurries to the harbor where she boards the ship mentioned by Ap’Lyr.
The Count of Smardg is a handsome fellow with golden hair, charme and an exquisite taste in clothing. Nevertheless he seems to have a firm grip on his crew, and the Cloud exits port in no time.
More to come in the next days.
Re: [Diary] Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Crossover with Esteren
Something tells me that this journey on the sea will have its share of hardships as well!
Allez, come on, allons-y, here we go, en avant, godspeed, hardi, let's do this!