tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47037131638721577882024-02-07T04:32:58.702-08:00Jerreth Esq.This Chap's Tabletop & LARP BlogJerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.comBlogger187125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-52091730636989357992017-11-25T15:00:00.000-08:002017-11-25T15:00:00.838-08:00Kampi’s Saga: The Fox and the WolfHowdy everyone!<br />
<br />
It’s been a long while since I posted anything here; I’ve had such a busy summer with life and larp that I haven’t had time to chronicle any of Kampi’s adventurers much less write out anything that wasn’t related to my duties as a staff member for Medieval Chaos. But now that the off season has come I’ve found myself a bit more free time, at least enough to have some one-on-one RP with some of my fellow players. I consider this my contribution to NaNoWriMo, though most of the credit goes to my friend Rowan for coming up with the scenario in the first place and contributing half of the dialogue.<br />
<br />
The majority of <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank">Kampi’s Saga</a> entries have been written in a first-person, pseudo journal-entry style, but this one is written third-person as it better follows the thoughts and actions outside of our usual narrator. What follows is an encounter in the woods between Kampi and his once friend Brynn during the last full moon.<br />
<br />
First, a bit of background:<br />
Over the past season Kampi’s personal prejudices against therianthropes, seeding from his personal beliefs (mostly the psychological scars from Amsel), grew steadily throughout the past season to the point that it actually became uncomfortable for me to play him. Since this downward spiral needed to be broken, when the opportunity arose that he was forcibly turned into a therian, I was all over that.<br />
<br />
That occurred during the final weeks of October and was instigated by a therian Kampi openingly attacked a few weeks prior named Shiny, who just happened to also be Brynn’s mate and is currently being kept under custody pending trial for breaking several laws. Kampi had feelings for Brynn in the past, but when she was willingly turned by Shiny, he took it very personally (a bit more than everything else he does) and it contributed to his growing hate at the time.<br />
<br />
Though Kampi had isolated himself out in the wilderness since revealing his new condition to the folk of Dagger Deep, Brynn managed to track him down, feeling that despite the bad blood between them, he needed support during his first transformation that full moon.<br />
<br />
So without further ado, I present another entry in his Saga, which I’ve simply titled:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>The <span style="color: #e69138;">Fox </span>and the <span style="color: #666666;">Wolf</span></i></b></div>
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<hr />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi was gone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The eyes of a familiar figure, donned in the grey trappings of a Northmen, glinted in the silver light of the full moon with gleam that bespoke of an altogether different cunning than what was normally reflected: They shone with an animalistic savagery. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">An Unending hunger.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Far within the hinterlands of Arrakis, winter was briefly intruding upon autumn; a light shower of rain mixed equally with chunks of attempted snowfall, wept from a partially clouded sky. Though the woollen clothes of the grey figure were thoroughly soaked, it did nothing to quench the hunger within.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Crouching low to the forest floor and occasionally making use of all four limbs to traverse the slick terrain, the lone hunter stalked through the moonlight, casting furtive glances at the shadows and frequently pausing to strain its hearing for anything other than the accustomed noise of the rain and the occasional falling leaf.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The hunger was kept at bay so long since it acquired its most recent host, or rather the host acquired it. It had not physically fed for what seemed like an eternity. Instead it had nothing to feed upon for sometime but emotions; specifically fear, anger, and hatred. As delicious as they were, now that it was again free, the hunger yearned for the unforgettable taste of raw flesh; and with it, it would continue to exert control over the weakened resolve of the host.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though the prey that were driven from their borrows during the early evening hunt were rank with fear, they were ultimately unfulfilling upon consumption. The hunger longed for a greater meal; one that who satisfy its eternal craving, if only for a moment. The host had been wise to lose itself deep in the wild, away from the bountiful settled lands where the hunger could be sated. This mania drove it onward in search of true sustenance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Abruptly it paused and sniffed at the damp air; its eyes dilated as hairs grew stiff on the back of its neck. A brief but somehow familiar whiff was caught when a breeze shifted briefly from downwind. Coming from the direction traveled from, it became apparent it was being followed by the source of the scent.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The specific nature of this scent elicited a silent cry from within, yet separate, from the hunger; a deluge of thoughts and feelings followed, only serving to incite appetite: Here was a meal that would satisfy both the physical craving as well as ply such delicious emotions from the host for it to savour. Frenzy quickly overwhelmed the cry of reason as the hunger silently obscured itself underneath a thicket. There it waited patiently as it could muster amidst its ravenous throes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gradually, a cautious gait could be heard above the patter of rain, and soon after silhouette emerged above the crest of a nearby leeward slope. Without a moment for hesitation to take hold, the hunger launched itself toward its target with a howl, fangs and claws bared.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">‘The intended prey was, to its surprise, not caught off guard.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brynn let the light of the full moon wash away the elf left in her leaving only the beast. Rarely did she allow the walls she had built to fall even on a full moon. She was not dressed for the cold, wet night and the rain had already soaked through her clothing, plastering it to her skin. Her ears pricked as she heard almost silent footfalls through the bush. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Crouching into a fighting stance she readied herself for her foe. She may have come to help her new pack mate but there would be no mistaking who was alpha in this pack. The growl ripped low and deep from her throat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As ferocious as the hunger was, it could not match the experience of its target. Baring her fangs and growling in defiance, she managed to defend against its initial onslaught and kept her bloodthirsty foe deftly at bay with her blade, until this new pack member found an opening in her defence and pounced.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Instead of the intended contact with exposed flesh, the hard surface of the vixens’ shield collided with the face of her assailant; the scent of blood drove them both deeper into their frenzy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Near senseless from the blow, the hunter didn’t allow its prey a moment's’ opportunity to retaliate, and slammed into her with all the strength it could muster, knocking her off balance. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Reactively, Brynn released the grip on her shield and threw the hand around the exposed grapplers’ neck, her claws cutting across the skin, in a partial attempt to steady herself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The momentum was too great and their muddy boots could not find purchase upon the slick rocks; entwined together, they started to tumble down the embankment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As they fell branches and rocks caught both clothing and skin leaving bruises and tears. Finally as they hit the bottom of the embankment Brynn struggles to her feet, putting all her effort into not renewing the fight. Her intent had to be to help but she knew sometimes the fight took the edge off the pain of the turn. As she stood he could see a tattoo twining across her back through her torn clothing, it seemed almost like an intricate brand of thorns and vines. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The pain and pleasure of the moonlight was less in the shadow of the embankment but still coursed through her veins. What she really needed to sate their bloodlust was prey to hunt, something that he could feel the warm bloody meat in his teeth and eat their fill. Her ears pricked listening for such prey but her eyes stayed sharp on him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">While the hunger grappled with its prey down the incline, internally it battled with something else. The insignificant cry it had beat into the dark recesses had resurfaced louder. Distracting it from the kill.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Something knocked the breath out of it and their embrace was lost.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When the world ceased being a whirl of fangs and claws, skin and fur, and rock and sky, it attempted to orient itself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It felt freezing rain upon its face. The nose was clogged, making scent useless. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The mouth was filled with a pleasant, coppery tang.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The mind echoed the cry.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The ears were filled with the rush of heartbeat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The eyes opened; a red-tinged vision of dimly lit barren trees branches. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Outside the moonlight, the cry was growing louder.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There was movement to the right.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It shifted to the side in order to track the movement; the shoulder supporting it painfully throbbed but it ignored it as it prepared to resume the fight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When it’s vision finally cleared and it was ready to appease the hunger, it hesitated.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Something about what it saw, perhaps the design imprinted upon her exposed back, beneath her soaked, torn clothes. Her dishevelled locks of hair and mud-caked fur steaming in the brisk night. Her eyes; framed by familiar designs shining beautifully in the dusky gloom.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Their eyes met.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And the hunger was silenced as the cry became a roar.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi returned.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Pushing wet hair from her eyes, she watched him carefully as the rain ran down her face. She was wary of him, he was unpredictable, his hatred of her in recent months had hardened her feelings for him. She tried to recall her memories of their friendship, of fighting together but his hatred was hard to forget. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The cold of the icy rain was suddenly more apparent when the adrenaline of the fight started to drain away but felt good on the still raw design in her flesh. She waited to see if he would make the first move so she could gage how much was Kampi and how much was the animal. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">How much was hate and if any understanding lay underneath. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She knew he had reason to hate her now, after what Shiny had done but she couldn't leave him in the rain alone. Not tonight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For what seemed like eternity, the two watched each other.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Finally, Kampi couldn’t bare her eyes any longer. Averting her gaze, he let his head low and released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding; it hung as cloud in the cold air.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As the fury began to ebb he became acutely aware of the wound up tension in his muscles, keeping him taught like a coiled spring. Slowly he released it, and his body began to shake with spasms and tremors.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He attempted to break the silence but his voice sounded alien to him. His throat was raw; the clotting in his nose further twisted the tone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Well? What are you waiting for? Go on. Finish the job your mate started.“ Kampi spat harshly, the last words coming out with bitter emphasis.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“That’s why you’re here isn’t it, Brynn?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her voice was rougher than normal, growling low in her throat. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"No, I'm not here to kill you"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She paused, watching him, "I'm here because you shouldn't be alone, not like I was. But I need to know what you want now because I remember what you wanted for us before. To be locked up in cages? To be tortured? To die? And now you are one of us and I don't exactly see you scrabbling for a dagger or chains. Maybe that's because you see something beyond the hate now.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Or maybe you still want to kill us all."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She pulled in a deep growling breath, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Until you prove it one way or another I won't abandon you to this since I am your Alpha, your kin and was once your friend."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brynn’s mention of cages and torture brought back memories of his brief time in the mirror realm, and how the ruling powers treated their kind. Kampi couldn’t help but feel shame having once considered that perhaps not all differences in that realm were without merit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Alpha?” Retorted Kampi followed by a laugh that was as much as a cough.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Is that was this about? Dominance? Pack mentality?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He attempted to right himself and pain shot through his shoulder, causing him to gasp.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“If it is, I acknowledge you’re the better then, over this misbegotten whelp. I don’t wish to fight anymore.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Resignation was in his voice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“I’m also willing to agree with your assessment that the fact I’m alive paints me insincere when contrasted against my past words and deeds. But believe me now, that when I became what I am now, I sought to end it.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He winced at the recent memories.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“But I could not fight past the self-preservation inherent in us all, and those I thought my friends would not grant me release. Many were all too willing to accept what I had become.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He glanced briefly at Brynn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“It is strangely comforting that you aren’t as accepting given what I was. Perhaps what I truly am.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He paused, as a chill breeze wafted over them, laying bare the rents their clothing. He glanced up at the sky; the rain had mostly ceased, but the clouds grew thicker.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Not all cages need to be bars and not all chains iron links. Out here I’ve locked myself away far from those I may harm, and thrown myself at the mercy of the fates and the elements to cast their own judgement.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“And as for a dagger...” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi reached at his side; he saw Brynn grow tense, her stance slightly dropping into a posture of readiness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The blade of his seax shone in the dim light as Kampi slowly withdrew it from its worn sheath; a dagger which moons ago he had silvered with a particular use in mind. On its mirrored surface he briefly saw his beastial features, before he gingerly tossed it between himself and Brynn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“I’m still willing to meet my fate sooner at the end of one.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"We view the position differently. I was trained in leadership by the Wild Ones and my own tribe. While the position may be earned through violence Alpha means I have the responsibility to protect and serve my pack, whether that is from outside forces or from yourselves. I don't want you dead Kampi and I didn't think you were one to give up so easy." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She leaned down and picked the seax up out of the mud with a wince and a quiet groan. Using her wet clothing she cleaned off the blade.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Raneth told me you thought your gods have forsaken you. While I have my own gods I know a certain amount about yours as well. Your gods are not pure and virginal white and gold, caretakers to protect you. They are blood and strength and survival. You have a chance to understand instead of hate." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She flipped the blade around and handed it back to him handle first.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Upon moving closer to return the blade, Brynn could clearly see sorrow in Kampi’s features; nevertheless he took the seax and buried the silver light in its sheath at his hip whilst speaking:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Unlike you, it wasn’t by my own choice I became a therian and your charge.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi placed his feet beneath him and sat up into a crouch, before continuing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“It is true that the capricious gods of the north value strength and help only those who help themselves; I’d spent years trying to live up to that ideal and do honour to them. But there had always been a lingering doubt that I was unworthy, and now that I fully see what I have wrought with my convictions, I see not a reason to continue.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi looked up at Brynn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“My convictions were my strength, Brynn, that was why the gods of my homelands listened to me. But now that those convictions have been shattered; now that I can no longer trust my own judgement on what is wholesome and what it corrupt, what is good and what is evil, what is truth or falsehood, that strength has left me.“</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi wiped a dampness from his eyes; the rain had ceased sometime ago.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“It was not my gods who have forsaken me, but it is I who have forsaken them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I’ve forsaken my friends and all those who trusted me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Forsaken myself.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She gingerly lowered herself to the ground with a sigh.</span><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Under what withering leprous light</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> The very grass as hair is grey,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Grass in the cracks of the paven courts</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Of gods we graved but yesterday.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Senate, republic, empire, all</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> We leaned our backs on like a wall</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> And blessed as strong and blamed as stolid--</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Can it be these that waver and fall?</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> And what is this like a ghost returning,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> A dream grown strong in the strong daylight?</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> The all-forsaken, the unforgotten,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> The ever-behind and out of sight.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> We turned our backs and our blind flesh felt it</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Growing and growing, a tower in height." </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brynn let the silence sit between them for long moments on the cold and dark night before she continued,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Things change and people change. Giving up without a fight would be truly forsaking your gods. So give it a year and, if you still wish to die, I will fight you to the death. You can do your gods honor and die fighting but you must try and find a way to properly honor them and make a life while you live."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"You have to find something to live for Kampi, something to hold on to when the beast in you threatens to take over." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The moonlight seemed to creep closer to their feet as the moon moved across the sky. Their temporary sanctuary getting smaller by the minute.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi nodded sombrely. Brynn’s outward gaze drew his attention to the shrinking size of the umbra they huddled in.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Until I find such a thing, it would be best if we parted ways soon. I do not believe I can hold back the hunger when it does arise.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi tried his best at levity given the gloomy situation.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“I wouldn’t want you to fulfill your promise of a good death earlier than intended.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She laughed and rose to her feet, spinning to face him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I told you I won't leave you tonight. You are a wolf now Kampi and I smell deer. Be free and join the hunt!" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She stepped back into the moonlight. As it washed over her features her eyes went wild for a moment and then she smiled once more before running in the direction of the tree line.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi watched Brynn take off into the woods, her hair and fox tail streaming behind her. Her smile an echo in his mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He stood alone in the steadily shrinking shadow cast by the embankment, paralyzed with anxiety.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The hunger, which Kampi had briefly forced out of his mind, now lurked at the fringe of his consciousness; beyond the edge of the shadow, ready to reassume control.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">His mind raced as he considered options; he gazed off into the treeline she disappeared into, and then back up the embankment. He could distance himself as best he could before the hunger set in, and hope that with his broken nose it wouldn’t locate her by scent when it inevitably searched for the prey it desired...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But something about the way Brynn said she wouldn’t be leave him that evening told him that they’d find each other again, and the outcome may be worse than their first encounter...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Taking a deep breath, he cautiously he stepped out of the modicum of shade and into the pale moonlight. His skin crawled, patches of hair and fur bristled, colours became muted yet shades were illuminated. Sounds were sharpened. His shoulder ached less.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Then the hunger flooded his thoughts, like a swollen river crashing against a dam.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Amidst this deluge, struggling to keep above the tide, Kampi clung onto the only thought he had.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brynn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For now, the dam held.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Nostrils still clotted, the wolf did his best to track the fox by sight and sound.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She hunted with claws and teeth, the hatchet strapped to her leg forgotten. She moved quietly to track the deer, staying upwind of their prey. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The adrenaline of the hunt and cool moonlight seemed to burn away the pain of her back and the throb of the earlier fight but she knew their best bet was a kill. She looked back for her wolf companion ready to take the deer completely unaware. As he moved in closer she nodded towards the creature with hungry eyes. Blood pounding in her veins as they stalked forward. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The deer caught their scent at the last moment but it was too late. In a flurry of teeth and claws she darted in and out, tearing at the deer's throat while avoiding flying hooves. Hot blood flew from the deer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was all a blur.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With steaming ichor dripping from its neck, the young doe twisted away from its predator, and dug its hooves into the moist earth in preparation to bound away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Even though the wound received was fatal, the deer would attempt to flee its pursuers and continue to run until it either bled out or its heart would literally burst from the exertion. Though the pair would follow its trail to where it would end, it would deprive the hunters of the killing blow.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following his alpha, the wolf launched itself into the flank of the deer, wrapping his arms around it as he sunk his claws and teeth into its flesh. He struggled to keep his grip as the prey bleated, attempted to buck him off and flee, but the therian’s mass dragged down on the doe and brought them both to the ground.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">His eyes dilated as hot blood seeped into his mouth and down his throat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi lost his tenuous hold as a crimson torrent washed over him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A hoof clipped her cheekbone as the deer fell to the ground under the werewolf's power. She drew back for a second to reassess the fight. As much as he may hate it he took well to the power and agility of the wolf blood in his veins. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Seeing there was no escape for their prey she darted back in. As her teeth tore into flesh she felt the primal satisfaction that came with the hot blood from a hunt running down your throat. She could feel the strength pouring back into her limbs like wildfire. There was true freedom in letting go on the night of a full moon. The moonlight and the blood, just letting go of the fear and pain. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The feeling of hunting with a pack took her back to her youth, to those tribal hunts. She looked over to make sure Kampi was eating, the meat would take the edge of the hunger and help with his pain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi struggled to keep above the tide of raw instinct he was adrift in; his mind panicked under the belief that if he didn’t fight to maintain control, he would be swallowed up by the flood and lost forever.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Desperately he vainly sought for something to avail him, but he could not find purchase on anything secure; it seemed whatever he reached out to grasp, dissolved apart.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All hope seemed lost. Exhausted from the struggle, Kampi resigned his last moments reflecting upon his life, before he was gradually pulled under.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was sometime into his repose, that Kampi became acutely aware of himself: His shoulder no longer ached, along with the myriad of other cuts and bruises he had acquired in his fight with Brynn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gradually the tide calmed and became a placid pond, upon which Kampi floated, seemingly without effort or by his own will. Although wary at first, he allowed himself to be supported by this sensation; he reached out with his other senses.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He became aware of the rich tang of blood upon his tongue. The smells of a fresh kill greeted him, along with that familiar scent. And at first from a distance, the sounds of the wind, the falling of leaves, the panting of their breath, reached his ears. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi opened his eyes to see Brynn staring back at him, a look of concern in her features; her lips were reddened with deer blood. Kampi felt his beard dripping with gore; embarrassed he made to wipe it away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brynn watched Kampi slip back to the controlled man she knew. For a moment he seemed so peaceful, the freedom of letting go seeming to overwhelm him. This is what she had hoped to show him, the wild beauty and power that could come with the beast. That it was not all some monster but the bond of the pack, the thrill of the hunt and the ability to move beyond the restraints of man, if only for a moment. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She watched him with a satisfied smile as he moved to wipe the gore from his beard. The blood coated her teeth was a harsh red hue and covered her lips in almost a mockery of a fine lady's lipstick. Her clothing was torn and plastered to her body but the wounds underneath seemed to knitted closed. The very faint glow of magic came from the lines tattooed on her back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She cocked her head and watched him for a moment before speaking,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"How did it feel for you, letting go for a moment?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi took an unnecessary amount of time cleaning himself as he mulled over the question. He had to admit it felt good; the thrill of the hunt, the takedown of their prey and the feasting that followed, even the simple break from self imposed isolation and the outpouring of words and emotions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">At the same time Kampi couldn’t shake a nagging doubt in the back of his mind: not all things that feel good are good.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He did his best to skirt Brynn’s query and followed up with one of his own:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Sometime following the ritual to turn her back into an elf, Shae did share some of her experiences as a therian when I inquired; about the rush it grants, and I can now say I understand firsthand some of what she was willing to relate.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“This letting go as you call it, is it what drew you to willing having yourself turned, Brynn? I can’t imagine it was solely upon secondhand account or the draw of power like some.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There was a hint of sadness in Kampi voice: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Though perhaps I just don’t know people as well as I’d like to believe I do.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brynn eyed him for a moment, taking the time to consider how much she wanted to share before settling down next to him and leaning back against a tree. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"It wasn't too much of a jump for me since I've never been pure elf." She responded. "There has always been the blood of wolves running in the veins of my people, though it runs much stronger in the first of our kind." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She sighed deeply before continuing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"For us this is an honour, the blood of the wild tied us to the land and made us kin with the pack. It gave us the ability to survive the long cold winters and evade the humans who hunted us. This is a way to protect my children and give them a life away from the fear I grew up with." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She pulled her tangled and bloody orange hair from her face and took a moment to tie it back into a bun. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"And I won't turn my nose up at any scrap of power if I have to go up against Michael and Abigail's father." She laughed a short and humorless laugh.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi nodded at her response; he understood the cultural and ritualistic implications of her choice, himself coming from a background where wolves, bears, and other animals were revered by some. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Aside from ravens as the eyes and ears of the Allfather, and the various animals and their forms some of the gods utilized in the sagas of his people, Kampi never gave much credence to the totemic beliefs of berserkers, believing them misguided at best or nothing but a frail excuse to act uncouth and savage. And despite the knowledge of the Spear-Shaker having two pet wolves, Kampi was never willing to give it much consideration before...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The harsh tone Brynn used when speaking of this father made Kampi reticent to inquire further upon that particular subject.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Those markings upon your back, do they also have significance amongst your folk?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With that her laugh rang much more true. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"The paint on the face yes but the tattoos on my back? No, those would be done by Ferdinand's hand, we aren't actually big on tattoos and brands. Ferdinand draws and expends his power through patterns, he did this one for my use. It is a tool, of sorts, to help me control my emotions though it hurt like nothing I could ever imagine." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She rolled her shoulders experimentally, testing the flesh between them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"It will help me control my anger when I need a clear head to lead and should help me during Shiny's trial." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She leaned back into the tree and looked up into the grey sky of the earliest morning hours thoughtfully.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi leaned back and could not help but admire what he could see of the tattoos upon Brynn, as well as the rest of her toned body; even at rest, her elven form appeared delicate and graceful yet filled with subtle power.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Enchanted tattoos. He had surmised that some therians could not hold back their instinct by will alone. His subconscious began to mull over the possibilities.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">His rapt attention was abruptly shattered upon her mention of Shiny. The memories flooded back of their last altercation and the after effects of it. His actions and words. The feelings of warm comfort with Brynn were washed away by cold anger.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Visibly agitated, Kampi abruptly stood, turned himself away from Brynn, and gazed towards the darker twilight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Why him? Out of all the therians who could bestow what you sought. Why him, Brynn?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brynn sat up to look at him, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I have known him a long time and have gotten to see a side of him that not many others have. The side of the protector, the side that reads poetry to me in front of the fireplace." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She ran her fingers distractedly through her hair, her eyes seemed calm but her fidgeting hands said otherwise. She took a deep breath before continuing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I don't expect you to forgive him and I'm not trying to justify his actions but maybe you can understand. You, Ajax and Connor were a danger to us. I think every one of us had a part that feared someone we loved, someone you considered a monster, would run across you all in the woods at night and we would never see them again. The pain that comes from having someone you fought beside, a friend, despise you so much is horrible. To know they want you and your kin tortured and killed?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She took a deep breath and leaned back into the tree for support. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Pain over time becomes hate. Hate and fear are intense, primal emotions to have under the full moon as you can now see. Shiny is as much tiger as he is man and it may be too late to help him find a way to anchor him to the man he once was but I do not abandon my own when they need me." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She sat against the tree with her fingers unconsciously wrapped around the beads that were her holy symbol. With a small start she realized her claws had dug into her palm, breaking the skin. She gently released the beads and wiped the small amount of blood away before looking back at him. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She pulled her hair back from her face again, leaving traces of red blood through her orange hair.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her words stung; cutting deeply into the core of his being. Like the plunging of a spear right into his heart. Kampi shut his eyes in a vain attempt to maintain composure.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The words rang too true for Kampi. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Fearing someone he loved. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Having lost friends.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For Kampi, it was the horrible memories of Amsel, and the fervent desire to never allow such a thing occur again, that drove him to become such a hateful person. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ajax was with Kampi at Amsel, and together they fanned each others embers upon witnessing the injustices therians had done upon the innocent of Dagger Deep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For Connor it was having his sister slain by the man she loved during the full moon, thinking they could control the beast he’d become.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And Ajax’s young apprentice Cypress came from a family that has been beset by wild therians for generations...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Pain begot hate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And here Brynn painted them as the threats. They didn’t revile them simply because they were different. They had each witnessed events that drove them to such points. And now Kampi could see nothing but a chain of events driving events.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi never advocated for the torture and killing of therians, just the rehabilitation of them, though he realized this view mattered little now. For some, they would be seen as one and the same.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi and Connor had done their best to try and stem the tide of fear and hate, by meeting with the pack, helping those that no longer wished to be therian, and if the rumours were true, Connor willingly gave up his burden of the death of his sister to aid the folk of Dagger Deep, therian and otherwise, in a ritual to trap and destroy the abyssal powers once and for all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But all such actions were in vain. The damage had already been done.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Connor was soul ripped for his efforts. Ajax and Cypress may be too far into their righteous beliefs, convincing them otherwise as a therian would only deepen their resolve. And Kampi saw how his desire to do good and protect his friends only served to drive those he deeply cared about into what he feared; Shiny was just a symptom of a cause he took up long ago.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The beast of Amsel had won; even in death, it had nearly succeeded in destroying another town of inhabitants by pitting them against each other. Perhaps above all, it broke the will of its hunter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi turned back to face Brynn; In the waning light of the full moon, the streaks of dark blood in her orange hair gave her stripes like her mate, marking her as his, further driving the hard spear-point of truth home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi turned away, holding back tears; shaky words followed, drifting off into the night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Thank you for everything you’ve shared with me this night, Brynn.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“I don’t claim to know the father of those children, but your feelings are strong against him. Heed my advice and temper those feelings; before you stands an example of what happens when hate, even when wielded with the best intentions, is allowed to grow unchecked.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He made to leave and paused.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“I hope the trial goes well for you. Know that I don’t harbour any ill will towards your chosen mate, not anymore. I see I’m the sole cause of my own circumstance.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brynn rose to her feet slowly. Her hands automatically moved to smooth her hair and clothing before she gave up with a sigh. The weariness from the long night started to settle deep within her bones but she still had a long while before sleep. She looked at Kampi with a tired smile. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Thank you Kampi, I hope so too. Remember what I said about finding something or someone to hold on to when you turn, it will help keep you human." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her ears twitched as a bird began to sing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I have to be going, I promised to make be home in time to make breakfast for my someones." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She grasped his arm tightly for a moment and then started to walk off into the woods, just as the first rays of sun started to rise.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kampi watched Brynn until she disappeared amongst the trees, before releasing a long held sigh. Though the recent spoils of the hunt had alleviated his physical exhaustion, he was mentally weary and emotionally drained beyond words.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a time, he began to make his own way back to his camp, first following the trail of their hunt, and then wake of their encounter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When he at last arrived at his camp, dawn had fully broken above the tree line. The evening showers had long extinguished the campfire and some wildlife had managed to break into his food stores; Kampi was too tired to care and entered his tent and collapsed upon his bedroll.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sleep soon followed, and with it, a dream.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brynn walked slowly through the woods, her feet started to feel heavy just as the trees started to thin to reveal an oak tree on the edge of a small town. The town was small and silent, everyone was still asleep in the early morning hours. The big old tree was unremarkable in all ways saving one, a large, smooth door set into the gnarled trunk. She pulled the heavy door open and stepped through into the church of Gilwell. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The room she quickly crossed was much larger than the tree she stepped into. A pot of tea sat hot by the fire with clean cups waiting on the side. Pouring herself a cup she returned to the door and stepped back outside. This time the tiny town was gone to be replaced with a garden on the edge of a larger town. It grew up between the roots of a massive tree and a castle sat in the distance. Brynn found a spot to nestle in under an olive tree in the garden to think about the night. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It had gone better than she could have hoped she thought as she sipped her tea. She still wasn't sure how much she liked or trusted him anymore but that could be built back up over time. At least there will hopefully be peace within the pack. She leaned back into the trunk of the tree with a sigh. She would need therian allies in the days ahead and she hoped she could count Kampi as one of hers someday soon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The sound of small feet on grass roused her as she saw three small figures running through the garden laughing. Time to go make breakfast.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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A big thank you again to my coauthor Rowan for composing this with me! :D<br />
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I hope to have a followup post recounting the nature of Kampi's dream up soon.<br />
Stay tuned.Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-15703447586797008872017-04-16T14:30:00.000-07:002017-04-16T14:30:11.886-07:00Easter: A Recap, a Review, and a SagaHappy Easter everyone! As I missed out on the third event of the <b><a href="https://www.medievalchaos.ca/" target="_blank">Medieval Chaos</a></b> season because of work, and the fact that I haven't posted for a bit over a quarter of a year, I've decided to spend my free time this Easter weekend attempting to bust out a recap of what I've been doing the past while.<br />
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First off, as I didn't mention it my last post, I've been made the Rules Officer for <b><a href="https://www.medievalchaos.ca/" target="_blank">Medieval Chaos</a></b>, and the majority of my free time following November last year until March this year was spent with a focus group working on this season's update to the <a href="https://www.medievalchaos.ca/sites/default/files/handbooks/MChandbookver3.1.1.pdf" target="_blank">Handbook; version 3.1</a>.<br />
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After much time and stress it was released to the public at the beginning of March to my surprise a warm reception from the player-base. Granted it does have some hefty changes but they were necessary to fix some of the flaws of 3.0, and implement a new High Guild progression system, along with the addition of a few other systems aimed at improving them game overall. My free time was mostly dedicated to working on that en devour but I managed to squeeze in a few events of note:<br />
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In February, the Missus and I attended a masquerade held at the Imbloc Ball, as our Zingari husband-wife duo, Yelir and Fritha. We had heaps good times and Yelir actually won the best dressed male by popular vote. For more photos check out <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jerreth_esq/" target="_blank">my Instagram</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BRNHedngCQ1/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3mCTXdYNkH-dNekeoe4w-YOWQ0hQcgQFvlfOw23nKWxxo8J3b0W_gXJobsJda3Kxwa5NPNKIysuOMqM-44OsbH_WiZ-ih02hGyQF2ubphzf1kyaGBsV3BHBDmbahvq8U3SN6YopJ-UnI/s640/2017-02-27+22.10.33.jpg" width="492" /></a></div>
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I also attended the last off-season, off-site mission of the 5316 (2016) season: The Hoards of Azuk'turoth at Glenora Riverside Park, where I orc'd it up and had a blast. Below is a L-R comparison of the advancement I've made to my orc kit I sore to same event the previous year.<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BRjQ62HgxNr/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfv7ptF1FtTZOYmmiCx3R7JeNir4qQPfb3n-mKWoDEyW9RtBHwwarFv7lqIdZtECB0GJhYFMeFFgd7l_jXUThRuqGaohcW-E3vWkQoITRo1Qky86gG1UBvX_aV_c-odvc0UZYj-KU70OQ/s400/2017-03-11+19.15.34.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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A couple of my orcish comrades:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgub1OiNMwRqXhlm0yn4MSqcH5CV07MsRg4TVI0Hej_3Cq461__-0EB1VN2zVM9ngEhsF28cEVlgv88ihb_BCToOv8JxCVjjVihWHG0hw39IeGfH4Uk2_1RWWIQgjbPPc9aSSqXZwrsQPs/s1600/2017-03-11+19.38.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgub1OiNMwRqXhlm0yn4MSqcH5CV07MsRg4TVI0Hej_3Cq461__-0EB1VN2zVM9ngEhsF28cEVlgv88ihb_BCToOv8JxCVjjVihWHG0hw39IeGfH4Uk2_1RWWIQgjbPPc9aSSqXZwrsQPs/s400/2017-03-11+19.38.12.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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It was a hella stressful month in March; what with the Handbook release, managing an FAQ, answering questions, updating everyone's' Advancement Points and character sheets, preparing for Season Opener, etc. But all that work paid off as the first event of the new season went off super smoothly for most departments and once I was en rapt in my character, Grimm, all my concerns floated away. :)<br />
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Other than the onset of several character leveling requests, the Rules department has quietened down for the most part, as I have a couple Marshals and a few Admins to delegate tasks too, such as manning the helm this weekend as I'll be unable to attend; which allows me a bit more free time to plan for each weekly event I am able to attend.<br />
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Also do things like the two videos below; Last year I backed <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/810459335/larp-box-a-monthly-subscription-gift-box-for-larpe?ref=user_menu" target="_blank">a project on Kickstarter</a> called <b><a href="https://larpbox.com/" target="_blank">LARP Box</a></b>, as monthly subscription box for larpers. In these two videos I post my thoughts regarding both the first standard and legendary boxes I received this April.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/d7NL-eQ_GHo?rel=0?ecver=2" style="height: 100%; left: 0; position: absolute; width: 100%;" width="640"></iframe></div>
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I believe that's a recap of the most notable things that have occurred as of late, aside from last weekend where I got the chance to play my main PC Kampi since November. Here's a short <b><a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga">Saga</a></b> entry relating his return to Dagger Deep:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Month of Grass</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Local Year 53167</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Ehwaz</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> none</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Horse</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Companionship</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Faithfulness, Teamwork, Trust</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Competitiveness, Disharmony, Resentment</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After months away, I returned to Dagger Deep, drawn by an inexplicable call. Over the winter the townsfolk were able to add some additional defensive structures: a watch tower, a make-shift functional gatehouse to the west entry to the bailey, and several other improvements (though the land is still partially flooded and the tavern half-submerged.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I met with my stanch companion Connor and we discussed a many things; what we did over the winter (Connor returned to his homeland to help on the homestead), the concern over the trust the current leader Caius places in the therian members of his kingdom, the nature of the demonic gilded greatsword that Connor wielded (and lost, but had returned to him) and the unnatural influence it seemed to be exerting over him. <br /><br />We recalled having deliberately hid this blade the past year, and having our minds wiped by a psionic to ensure it's secrecy, but the sword was still able to call him even far off in his homeland, and he could not help but retrieve it when he joined a troop investigating Azuk'turoth, where Kaah and his fellow abyssal demons were exerting an unwholesome influence on the local orc population. Fortunately they were banished from the land for the time being.</span></div>
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During the winter I heard some of the reports of the Siege against Northbrook and though the allied forces had eventually succeeded in wiping the cursed realm from Arrakis, dark rumours spread quickly when a band of crusaders ventured into Rugger'shrek to discuss why the peace the black orcs that dwell therein had seemed to have fallen and a lone scout from supposedly vanquished Northbrook lured the band many fights with the orcs and eventually to the reappearance of Xander (a traitor to the allied people of the Deep and now one of the leader of the remnants of Northbrook.)</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The dire portents finally reared their foul head a week ago, when a legion of Northbrook forces, lead by several of their leaders, and allied with the black orcs, ravaged the unprepared forces that dwelt in this town, before support showed up and drove them away (the orcs looted the shoppes and most likely Northbrook accomplished some unknown goal). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Aside from my own inexplicable draw, several other warriors (new and old) answered the summons to help bolster the towns defenses and hunt down an destroy any remaining forces.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">Whilst Connor and I reflected on the recent events, I was blessed by a whole unexpected sight; my attention was drawn to a radiant figure appearing amongst the worn landscape: Lady Sigrun, <i>valkyria </i>and aspect of the goddess <i>Valfreyja</i>, </span><span style="text-align: center;">arrived to Dagger Deep to judge if any were worthy to ascend to <i>Folkvangr</i>. Her presence came as a surprise to me, and I attended her when able. (Given that I still remain here, it was clear she did not find my actions worthy. I am ashamed my martial prowess has grown so feeble over the winter.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After Lady Sigrun and her varied entourage met with Caius and announced their intentions, myself, along with Connor MacNessa and my stalwart companion Connor MacPherson, decided that patrolling the outskirts of town for any of the black orc or Northbrook remnants was more preferable than satisfying our egos within the tournament ring.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Though we do not agree with live combat for sport, we did skirmish a number of times with an outside group known as the Champions of Harvan (some sort of battle deity) and a pack of green orcs who were looking for a fight. Over the winter I saved up enough earnings to purchase a </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">skjoldr</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">; I am still getting used to using it in battle, and I do admit whilst I did not relish them, I was grateful for the practice. My actions and mood throughout they day had lead some to undoubtedly mockingly referring to me 'Kampi the Righteous'. I do not consider the thoughts behind my actions, or even themselves 'righteous'; such is a term better suited for those that consider themselves more devout and just, such as Hector, or any number of the paladins or knights sworn to their gods or lords.</span></div>
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<br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I take even less to being referred to as a 'prophet'; a relative new comer to these lands, an elf by the name of Raneth, whom appear to hail from similar northern realms I did, has on numerous times referred to me as such (probably due to my familiarity with Lady Sigrun and given my faith to the gods of the north). I also met another northerner named Runa; a seer who foresaw more arriving to Dagger Deep from similar northern lands.</span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am sworn to no kingdom, and not all of my gods aren't just. I do what I feel is best for my friends and allies; perhaps that is why I am unfit for <i>Vahalla </i>or </span><i>Folkvangr </i>as I do not fit the ideal <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>einherjar</i> as they are spoken of</span>.</div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></b></h4>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">-Ref ' Kampi' Vandillson</span></i></div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-10381358240002058422016-12-31T15:00:00.000-08:002016-12-31T15:00:11.621-08:00Kampi’s Saga: Recounting and RuminationI still live!<br />
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Another year come and gone; so little time to write about what's been done.<br />
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I managed to pull enough free time together to bust out a basic recap of all the recent events this past year concerning Kampi and his <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank"><b>Saga</b></a>.<br />
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For more frequent updates of my doings, follow me on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jerreth_esq/" target="_blank">Instagram</a>; I've been making a point of posting smaller gaming/LARP related things there as I don't have the time to here. Hopefully I'll get to odd chance to do a few more blog posts about what I've been doing that keeps me so busy, but for the time being this blog is mostly going dormant.<br />
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Enjoy and have a great 2017!<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Third Day of Woden</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Local Year 5316</b></span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Jera</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> Eir, Goddess of Mercy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Year</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Harvest</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Promise, Renewal, Reward</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Interminable, Repetition, Reversal</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It has been quite a long time since my last journal entry, over half a year ago. Many a time I raised charcoal to parchment, but was never able to finish what little I began. Aside from my life being occupied by a great many things, I feel that I cannot still my thoughts during my free moments long enough to find peace; I have an ongoing sense of foreboding in my mind. Despite all that is good in my life, I cannot dispel a dread I feel lurking in the dark recesses of my mind; the occasional headaches and nightmares do nothing to improve this feeling that the shadows in my soul lengthen.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As of late I have been spending my winter in a meager inn near within the harbour district of Helm’s Deep; sharing a small rented loft with my kinsman, Volm, for over a fortnight until he departed eastward on personal errands, leaving me alone in our small room. I have tried to venture forth and be sociable, sometime visiting the various taverns and barrooms throughout the city, but I feel out of place in crowds and reclusive. The longest night of Yule has just passed last evening; my thoughts cannot help but wander back to the celebration with the Greyward house at Shale Glacier the year past, and the grim affairs that later occurred at the hamlet of Amsel.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Much has happened since I last wrote in this journal during the Month of Flowers, nor have I even recorded all that has occurred before that entry, which has always been an intention of my own. Since that fateful 'hunt’ nearly a year ago, my life it seems to have become increasingly more complicated; I will try to summarize what has happened to over the course of the past year since my last entry in an attempt to order my thoughts:</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Word reached me during my stay in Uberland during the month of the Sun that Gnimh was present on the 16th day of with her loyal pack and was attempting to exert her influence over the local mongrelfolk and gain the town's trust by offering aid against the hoard of black orcs that had invaded Dagger Deep. By the time I arrived both groups had been dealt with in their own way. I stayed in the Guard Barracks following that incident, wishing to be present to lend aid against another invasion or if Gnimh made another appearance.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Near the end of that month, several days following Midsummer, was the Festival of Osis. I recall still being a member of the Town Guard then; I will elaborate on the fact I am no longer one later. I enjoyed observing the tournament and the great gathering of folk celebrating; I ran I short athletic pastime that was well received. I strung and shot bow a few times in the archery contest, but didn't stay to compete. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">Although Relan was present we had little time to talk privately, in fact I spent more time with his 'brother’ Hector; I am still unsure how I feel about that man, though we are both as some would say of the ‘faith militant’, his outlooks upon the nature of morality, divinity, and free will tend to run contrary to my own and he seems far from willing to openly debate them. It's a wonder how Relan abides him; I've heard them loudly buttheads over some viewpoints. True be told I wasn't feeling sociable and eventually retired, the crowds getting to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">About a month following a 'tribe’ of various types of goblinoids (many base, with some of cinder, some of rime) converged on the lands surrounding Dagger Deep. Talks with the goblin folk proved futile as they quickly lost patience with any discussion and many of the townsfolk, both single-minded boors and bloodthirsty mongrels, attempted to drive them away with force. If the entire town was committed to such action, we might have been successful, though a large group was either unsure, unwilling, or attempting to find a peaceful resolution; I found myself in the latter. A disposed pair of somewhat astute cinder goblins spoke to us of the the plans of the ‘bullies’ in charge were to perform rituals at each of the five nearby magical portals to seal them, on the idea that the portals have caused nothing but trouble and closing them would weaken their foe, 'the mother of magic’, Gnimh. There was even a rumour that her hated sister Shaar was the force behind goblins plan.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Having been first hand witness to their slaughter at the petty whims of Gnimh and her inhuman agents, I was supportive of their cause, even if for the reason if the portals are closed sooner, than less blood needs to be shed by both the goblins and the townsfolk, and depriving Gnimh of her power could only have beneficial consequences; how wrong I was.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Having personally volunteered as sacrifice for the closure of the Air portal (the second portal they closed following the Water portal; to my endless regret, it was my own blood that sealed it) and experiencing the magical backlash of it, along with that of the Earth and Fire portal, the last being a pyroclastic release of energy that incinerated all those present (mostly goblin). I just quested the top of the barren stone hillock and was brought to my knees at the sheer devastation I gazed upon; something that has become a too frequent dreamscape of my nightmares as of late.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was quickly decided that allowing the goblins to seal the final portal, that of Life and Death in Woodhenge, could have disastrous repercussions; long story short, despite our weak forces having been split between defending and attacking, and a betrayal by the few cinder goblins we trusted resulting in the shattering of the magical globe of protection around the portal, we succeeded in the end of driving them off. They seemed content with the closure of four of five portals.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And now on to the part where I abandoned the Guard: Exhausted from the ordeals of that day, I came to a gathering of the Guard with their superiors, along with the warlord Alucard and a few concerned citizens; after witnessing the way our ‘superiors’ treated the concerned citizens present with contempt, and the airing of the failures to properly drive off the goblins and prevent them from interfering with the portals, combined with the earlier summons for Relan, Mathuin, and others to be brought in, interrogated, forced to take sleeping draught, and incarcerated for alleged connections to Northbrook; that was the moment that tipped my already unsure loyalty. I walked away from the group in disgust, and after a moment, I briefly returned only to toss in my sash.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I then proceeded to the C&A where I got drunk. A few allies tried to convince me to reamain in the Guard, Relan included, and even though I felt I was breaking my bond to the citizens I swore to protect, I felt that by being hampered by our corrupt laws, I would only be breaking my oath to protect the folk of this town. I left town the following morn into the hinterlands for a few weeks of solace.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was soon after I noticed my connection to my gods was waning; believing my actions as an oathbreaker had angered them, I returned to town, to discover that I was not the only one whose mystical powers were hampered; it appeared to be effecting the faithful and non-faithful alike, and it was rumoured that the closure of the portals was the cause.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I was gathering my affects from the Barracks, I saw and spoke with Tibalt the Bard, whom had been incarcerated for attempting to beseech Gnimh for aid in reopening the portals; though she did make an appearance she was of no help, and Tibalt was arrested for consorting with the enemy. I began to realize the full consequences of going along with the portals being sealed, how I my choice to protect townsfolk only resulted in driving them to desperate acts to return things to how they once were, and I saw the law punish those for making the correct choice for the greater good. I did my best to aid those looking to restore the portals, and I witnessed more personal sacrifices as Mordag attempted to call in a favour from Lyra, the so called Queen of Undead and former general of Sakacuron, and Dodger, now preferring to be known as Jackrym, sacrificed his connection to a Fae court to unseal the Air portal. Dispite this, I still stand by my choices, and I support any who also do so for the greater benefit of all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eventually all the portals were restored, and it came as no surprise that once her power had been returned to full, Gnimh returned with her force, perusing a pack of mongrels which refused to submit to her will; The Maw I believe is what they referred to themselves as. Like countless times before the town was caught between two warring groups, but the town had few positive feelings for Gnimh and allied with her foe to attempt to drive her away. Our small numbers were crushed and I lay dead off the beaten track for sometime, so long the sky had grown dark by the time a rogue named Starn had revived me (Still owe him a favour); once I regrouped with my allies we found the shredded body of Odez (Lieutenant of the Guard), who'd be mauled to death by the lead mongrel of Gnimh, Silverfang. We collected what remained of his body upon a shield and carried it back to town, where by the grace of the <i>Æsir </i>I was able to restore life to his frail body.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In all honesty, if I knew he was going to become one of them, we would have buried him where he had fallen, for that is where the last decent member of the Guard remains.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sometime after his recovery, Ajax and I witnessed his physical change into one of those mongrel beasts, and we confronted him upon hearing he hunted down a young lad to sake his unending hunger; harsh words were exchanged but it was kept civil and no blood was shed; I am certain the Odez I knew and respected is gone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Despite all chaos and seemingly hopelessness, during this I found strength in companionship, the single bastion of hope I have. My kinsman, Volm, who I thought lost on his initial journey eastward over the Dragon Peaks, returned to these lands, and has chosen a path of faith in our old gods similar to my own; I have been doing my best to teach him the ways of the devout, though I frequently question myself, feeling a poor comparison to my mentor Relan, at least before he began enjoy drink too much for his and others well-being. Aligning with his interests and temperament, Volm has chosen Freyng, the god of the Harvest, Fertility, and the Sun, to be his patron deity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Soon after our pairing, another approached us with interest of our faith, a strapping young lad by the name of Kygo; from his manner of speech, dress, and the lands he claimed to hail from, we believe he is perhaps a distant kinsman of Volm or myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have as well become firm friends with a Caledonian warrior named Connor of clan MacPherson; though a bit bullheaded, he is an honest and true companion. Despite being a warrior first, his devoutness to his goddess(es), The Morrigan, shares many similarities with our own, particularly the association of the raven and collecting the souls of the slain in a manner reminiscent of the <i>valkyrja</i>. He has been more than kind enough to offer the holy grounds he has acquired at Dagger Deep as a site of worship for the <i>Æsir</i>; with our faith slowly growing, I am greatly considering his offer, along with another to join him in Caledonia come the new year, though the distance and method to be travel sounds unbelievable (I have traveled by airship once before, but I was mostly in recovery from Amsel) .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">And when I’ve seen him, Ajax has always been supportive in his own way. The last time we met I handed him a lengthy letter to send to his family in Shale Glacier, specifically to his young sister Nerys. It dealt with her a misplaced infatuation with me; it was the hardest thing I had to write. Though Ajax spoke that he was not intending on visiting his folk this winter, I trust he will see the message safely delivered back home, though I would not put it past him to glimpse at the contents out of concern for his sister; between the two of them I hope that at least one of them accepts what I have written.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have not seen him since we last spoke on Samhain, where we got into a heated argument regarding my consideration of joining with Red Keep’s army that was preparing to march upon Northbrook in a upcoming winter war following Yule. He brazenly stated if Connor and myself were to foolishly risk our lives in such a madcap endeavor, he would have to accompany us to ensure we came to no harm; having known he had intentions on travelling southward to locate the land of his lost love, Erinn. I tease Ajax for pining for her, but it's obvious he deeply cares for her, though perhaps it was not until that moment how much he also cared for his friends; like his sister, he desires no harm to come to them and will take steps to prevent it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">Sometime following Samhain, Connor, Volm, and myself participated in a wargame of sorts between Helm’s Deep and the kingdom of Uberland, with us on the side of the Red Keep. Our forces were mostly outmatched in combat and we had to rely upon our cunning against the trials of that long night. To my shame as a follower of a god of war, it was further laid bare to me that I feel unfit as a soldier; like Connor and Volm, we all have fought many a time and at times do not shirk from battle, but at least in my regard I that was when my spirit is bolstered by a noble cause or threat to those I swore to protect. Though the threat of Northbrook and their supposed god-slaying weapon looms over all, I feel it is outside my capabilities to combat; I will support those who seek to remove the threat they present, but I have concluded that this in not my battle. It seems Connor has made similar choice, deciding to return to Caledonia.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am sure Sigrun would be disappointed in my choice as well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I should explain who Sigrun is before I continue; sometime before Samhain when Connor, Ajax, and myself were present together in Dagger Deep we met a comely yet aloof shield maiden, whom went by the name of Sigrun. She claimed to be a valkyrie and an avatar of the goddess <i>Valfreyja</i>, and though at first I did not believe such a bold claim (perhaps because I had always considered the gods of my homeland distant deities with no direct interest in this realm), when she spoke of her task to recover a necklace from a trickster named Seeker Foxkin, a masked avatar of the god of mischief, <i>Lokki</i>. I did my best to aid her in this endeavor, and although we succeeded in recovering the necklace it was shattered and the trickster placed a curse upon the prominent gem that cause the bearing to speak lies every other time they spoke.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sigrun spend most of the remainder of her short time in our company before she returned to Asgard with the pieces of the broken necklace, and she honoured me with the gift of a relic in the form of a worn cloth she wore bearing the symbol of thrice intertwined drinking horns of the gods. Despite this reward, I could not help but get the impression she was overall dissatisfied with my performance of the representative of the <i>Æsir</i>. I shall try to remain resolute and endeavor to be worthy in her and the All Father’s sight; to some, I must be considerable, for when I awoke by my lonesome the morning of Yule I was pleasantly surprised thrice:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">First, upon the floor leaning against the hatch to my room, resting adjacent to my worn boots, lay a great leather-bound tome; at first I was alarmed, as I meant someone had managed to enter my loft during the long night as I slept without knocking my boots over or disturbing me, but upon further inspection of the article, with its wondrous, illuminated contents upon the sagas and myths of my homeland, I deeply suspect it is a gift from either a very clever accomplice, or a possibly a mythical benefactor. Something to both occupy my time during the winter months and possibly gain insight from.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I descended to join my host and the other tenants in a shared feast to break our fast, after exchanging pleasantries and well-wishes, the owner of the townhouse presented me with a small pine <i>eski</i>, and explained he was to give it to me after it had been delivered to him that morn by a porter. He politely refused the few coins I had for his service, citing it was no trouble. I sat upon a bench near the fire-pit in inspected the small coffer: the front latch was kept closed by a piece of twine looped through it and the ends contained within a wax seal of green; peering at it with the firelight was the imprint of a griffin rampant. At once I knew whom the chest was from: Ajax.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Upon breaking the seal and lifting the lid, my eyes fell upon a worn piece of parchment with the contents listed in a recognizable script; the first of which read:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>‘Salt - A most potent and striking anathema against the evil immaterial. Decant from phial in a ring around the hexxer, ensuring there are no gaps lest spectres exploit it.’</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I searched the box and drew out a small phial matching the description filled with crystals of salt; after gazing it I placed it beside me upon the bench and read the next item:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>‘Oil of Blencathra’ - A blade anointed with pure oil from the Blencathra region will pierce hides of creatures impervious to normal steel.’</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I fished out a bottle of verdant smoked glass sealed with red wax, the outside etched with unrecognizable glyphs; I set it down and proceeded to the next item.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>‘Talisman - Bruxa are tricky and capricious, and can curse the most are ardent hunter. Arm your with this charm and be not afeared of their sorcery.’</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I fished out a metallic disk that hung upon a cord adorned with various mineral beads; after glancing around, I looped it over my neck and trucked in beneath my tunic.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>‘Candles - Thrice blessed, candles in ritual preserve oneself from injury of the unknowable and esoteric.’</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A pair of pearlescent tallow candles rested in the coffer next to the following items: A small coil of twine and a bulb of garlic.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>‘Cord of Hemp - A coil of hemp plantwire, soaked in knotweed to imbue it with strength in binding the impure.’ </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>‘Bulb of Garlic - Each Wampyr, Nosferat, and Lamia cannot stand garlic, and will flee from he who presents it. Instrumental in staking a final-rest to the unnatural living cadavers.’</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For a moment I consider that claim: I had heard that the cursed beings of Dagger Deep and Arrakus have no love of the bulbous plant, but I have not heard it being used to effectively drive them off; perhaps it only applies to certain realted creatures. I read and inspected the final item; a long colourless glass phial containing a clean liquid:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>‘Holy Water - A phial of crystal water, sanctified by the blessings of monastic orders who defend against evil and malevolent daemons.’</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have both heard and witnessed my mentor Relan bless water in the name of his god <i>Ithus</i> and use it to occasional effect against those demonically possessed. I’m sure I could do the same for a short time, but having a phial of blessed waters that remain indefinite could be useful in its own right.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Replacing the contents back into the chest I could not help but consider the possible intents of this gift: given that many of these objects have protective values, it’s apparent Ajax is obviously concern for my well being, yet at the same time one needs to be in appropriate perilous situation to make use of them; evidently he wishes me to continue aiding him on his ill-boding ‘hunts’ against threats to the innocent. Perhaps in this regard he knows me better than I know myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I may as well resign myself to such fate the <i>Norns </i>have woven for me; as much I claim that I desire peace, my soul yearns for conflict.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am sure this new year shall provide what it desires.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<h4>
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></b></h4>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">-Ref ' Kampi' Vandillson</span></i></div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-11091244075665140932016-05-27T21:45:00.000-07:002016-05-27T22:00:30.490-07:00Kampi's Saga: Break The SpellIt's been rather quiet on the blog front these past couple months, but that is not because there has been nothing to blog about; quite the opposite, I've been too busy to have time to write about all that's occurred!<br />
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I have so many half-completed entries sitting in my drafts; it was my intention to complete them in chronological order but as more time goes by and current events drift into the past I'm finding that prospect difficult to do. I try to record notes and details on the latest event before I forget them, but now I'm beginning to think it'd be better to complete a full current entry before I attempt any past ones, else I may forget important specifics.<br />
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<div>
This last Saturday's entry at least isn't fully reliable on knowledge of prior recent events to follow, and where such do arise, they can be seen as tantalizing details to future entries on the past. And this latest mission was memorable in Kampi's development so I wish to record it in full before it fades from memory.</div>
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When I do begin posting entries on past events, hopefully the break in chronological order doesn't cause too much confusion: mind the dates for the entries. I may create a side page that lists all of the entries in chronological order for ease of reference rather than relying upon the <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank"><b>Kampi's Saga</b></a> link.</div>
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Without further ado, here's <i><b>Break The Spell</b></i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Ajax & Kampi, with Shiny stalking in the background</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>The Fourth D</b><b>ay of the Sun</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of Flowers</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5316</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1_CJLn9Oh_NFMTrPGVWsE93GMyYzDhGe3_FEmMYOxatRiZ5zTZ25rwAuh7PnM1Fh8UYw0sHg9fewfARhHxvTCemVXmEmUaNDyXkVi5OJGtH_IkS3jiaqShrOMpn2aocghSn3DwNgT9OE/s1600/Inguz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1_CJLn9Oh_NFMTrPGVWsE93GMyYzDhGe3_FEmMYOxatRiZ5zTZ25rwAuh7PnM1Fh8UYw0sHg9fewfARhHxvTCemVXmEmUaNDyXkVi5OJGtH_IkS3jiaqShrOMpn2aocghSn3DwNgT9OE/s1600/Inguz_Rune.gif" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Ingwaz </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> the god <i>Yngvi</i> (an older name for <i>Freyng</i>)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations</u></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>:</u> Fertility, Potential, Virtue</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side up</u></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>:</u> Friendship, Inner Growth, Loyalty</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted</u></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>:</u> Futility, Inner Confusion, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Spiritual Crisis</span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It has been a fortnight since I was in Dagger Deep; my time hence was spent south in Helm's Deep, making true on my offer to use my prentice skills as an armourer repairing the worn brigandine of the bishop of Ithus. As I hammered new rivets and adding patches of leather where needed, I ruminated deeply:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Until half a fortnight prior, I had not had a chance to see me mentor since his sudden abduction from the Imbloc Ball by the orkish of hoards of Azuk'turoth and subsequent rescue. Though I had participated in the task mission to recover the bishop, to my shame I ended up being apart of the main 'distraction' force and not the small group that eventually rescued Relan.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And after the events during the Cheeba's Day Tournament on the last day of the Month of Grass, I find it even more difficult to relate to my master; either from the haunting experience from Amsel that has changed myself both mentally and physically, Relan's own ordeals at the hands of the orks, the recent abyssal crisis, or perhaps some combination of each.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As we celebrated with mead that day, perhaps in an attempt to recapture more pleasant times, had lost respect for both my mentor and myself; things were done and said that were unbecoming of us both. Though older than myself by decades, Relan was acting like a spoiled child; and my own frustration and anger at several things had begun to unnerve me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once I had finished my task of repairing his vestment, I had wondered if the owner of that piece had anything to left to teach me; I then briefly pondered whether to return this favour to the Ithusian in person or to pay a courier to deliver it to the locale Relan was staying at. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I eventually decided on the latter choice after an unexpected visitor called; Ajax, whom I had not seen as well since Imbolc, swaggered into my chambers and after a brief exchange of awkward pleasantries announced he had some business to do north in Uberland and half jokingly claimed he could use the company and I could use the practice maintaining his somwhat shabby armour. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After some thought and further badgering from Ajax, I accepted his offer, as I was due to check in with the Town Watch of Dagger Deep anyway. Following a night in which I spent maintaining his gear whilst Ajax talked about his most recent, mostly uninteresting, exploits, we departed for the mid-isle realms by chariot the following morn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our time spent in the city of Uberland was sort and we eventually made our way on foot to Dagger Deep; just within sight of town Ajax recalled something and produced a rolled up parchment and handed it to me, claiming it was addressed to me but had been delivered mistakenly to him. It's place of origin was his hometown of Shale Glacier; possibly reinforcing the belief by his family that I am Ajax's squire.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Before I opened the message I checked in with the Captain of the Guard, Milo, and he assigned me my usual Watch duties. With nothing more interesting to do, Ajax accompanied me on my rounds; we mused at <a href="https://lookaside.fbsbx.com/file/TVP%20Issue%202.pdf?token=AWzpW03Z2oabwDyZtmL6OadFRaA2_jf8l-jLIojAdUVrhGty7aXPocCp-ca_PtpM3DG_pZsyLMsTSNlD4xK0NtDjz_IDcjEAt8_vKTS5K5cUsWPd0WG6QKpOQ2i6QPjdFO7d4zJbm9kSkn7dLbgI7MyG" target="_blank">the latest notices</a> upon the town's message board, notably <i>"Common Taunts"</i> by the author known as 'Three Sheets'; the majority of which neither of us found </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">particularly </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">humorous, but the last insult about comparing a Dwarf's beard to that of a billy goat made me laugh out loud when I saw the frown upon the thinly-bearded face of my companion. Unfortunately in regards to facial hair, Ajax does take after his human mother more than his dwarvish father.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXMkSdIrF-JcyMnO5deDpg5HWalLmQVc7k3L1cDGrxMp5djFXWtvzBlg39qUUuGE_p0ty9rfmEf19JcUuHo0cVEOM7qVp_FAeeUMn5VuSZzwx2w8R3NpOOajo3rOKlOQe1a4YchRfKfKM/s1600/Kampi+%2526+Milo_sketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXMkSdIrF-JcyMnO5deDpg5HWalLmQVc7k3L1cDGrxMp5djFXWtvzBlg39qUUuGE_p0ty9rfmEf19JcUuHo0cVEOM7qVp_FAeeUMn5VuSZzwx2w8R3NpOOajo3rOKlOQe1a4YchRfKfKM/s400/Kampi+%2526+Milo_sketch.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eventually, a break was taken from my patrol and I unrolled the missive from Shale Glacier and silently read it to myself:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When my companion inquired to the nature of the message, I initially delayed answering, reading it over again before I mentioned, as casually as I could muster, that his sister sent her love. Ajax's countenance took on a suspicious look when he asked if the letter was from Nerys; I said that is was and before I could finish rolling it up and store it away he snatched it from my grasp and began to read over it, his look becoming even </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">disapproving.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I do not wish to write the full details of the discord that followed between us, but I will touch on a few points: Ajax essentially accused me of leading on Nerys, who has an infatuation with me, at least an unrealistic romantic ideal; perhaps by association with Ajax and his venturesome nature, I am apparently some sort of a daring adventurer to be admired.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Although some may be willing to title me as such, the strife and deeds witnessed and performed at Amsel do not make me such in my own eyes. I seek not glory nor acclaim, profit or confidence. I am still unsure what motivated me to sojourn twice into the northlands; once by my lonesome, allegedly drawn by desire to connect with my homeland, and a second with Greyward on his 'hunt' for the creature that terrorized that accursed thrope...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have become distracted. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Despite her supposed affections for me, and Ajax's ardent belief that I would be an unfitting husband for her (inwardly I agree with his assessment, but the fact that he was so verbose about it affronts me from being outwardly congruent), I find the prospect of dashing the hopes of young Nerys very difficult to bare, and one can see why Ajax is also unwilling to be the bearer of such news. Though I can also see Nerys rejecting her brother's advice on the grounds of being overprotective (which is true) and thus deepening her infatuation. Perhaps I do long to be cared for; I need to dwell long and hard on how to deal with this.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once my companion and I had voiced our opinions and cooled our subsequent tempers, the both of us journeyed to Darkwood to look into several rumours about a strange, possibly threatening, creature dwelling therein. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On our way, we passed a visiting patrol of holy warriors known as Sigmarites, whose apparent encounter with the being was peaceful (surprising though, given they tend to be ardent-bordering-fanatical in their crusade to cleanse the land of all 'unpure' beings). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7kpK3M8_5W4ycoITEPAkbYZ5yUzBI4J4h2b1SyoB7iSL9AA2XN3Y8QgpcD7uLYjDSia-BmchydAxtAats0kYH8HEzFjXGbL3i3I-ap6Vu9As3EtIf7XbE0RamNfeQaPDeCN2HYu5Ui2w/s1600/Sigmarites_sketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7kpK3M8_5W4ycoITEPAkbYZ5yUzBI4J4h2b1SyoB7iSL9AA2XN3Y8QgpcD7uLYjDSia-BmchydAxtAats0kYH8HEzFjXGbL3i3I-ap6Vu9As3EtIf7XbE0RamNfeQaPDeCN2HYu5Ui2w/s400/Sigmarites_sketch.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A visiting group of Sigmarites</td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Further into the forest, we at last glimpsed the creature; hunched low as a predator, cloaked and hooded in a robe of umber and pitch, glittering eyes regarded us from a side-cocked ligneous face; aside from the two bidactyl feet it crouched upon, the only other feature that could be seen beneath its covering were several digits arrayed with large, wicked-looking claws.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaT1aeaGUJV2jr4GxAB6xSxE-evhFKdvT3TkzuL6NL6RkLNneW8nac9qqWO-Rl_s8lCKs0huNfxYE8BrcaffqY4e6oifCpGedfjuQKQJ6m-KNoqUHrjUL6ajz0cUcZbFk04evBmYFav9w/s1600/Scarab_sketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaT1aeaGUJV2jr4GxAB6xSxE-evhFKdvT3TkzuL6NL6RkLNneW8nac9qqWO-Rl_s8lCKs0huNfxYE8BrcaffqY4e6oifCpGedfjuQKQJ6m-KNoqUHrjUL6ajz0cUcZbFk04evBmYFav9w/s400/Scarab_sketch.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The strange creature known as Scarab</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our attempts at communication with it were mostly vexing; the odd canter of its speech combined with its enigmatic questions and aloof replies, made our assessment of its nature and intention difficult. In the end, Ajax and myself decided it was best to leave well enough alone, for it only seemed a threat to those who would threaten it; for the time being we collectively decided it must be some form of nature spirit, for it did mention it had been dwelling in Darkwood for sometime. Why now it chose to make its presence known, we cannot say; perhaps it is related to its desire to locate an individual known as 'the killing knife', as heard from a second-hand encounter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Soon after we had returned, a small trio of goblinfolk, nervously entered town through the south gate; two (female?) goblins, green as spring grass, accompanied an elder (male?) the shade of cinder (a fire goblin undoubtedly). As my duty as town guard, I cautiously approached these creatures known for their cunning, as a small crowd of concerned citizens gathered to watch the proceedings, greeted them, and requested their intentions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This group appeared to be non-threatening and only inquired to those who would listen if and how the recent changes they attributed to this lands' recent stay in the abyss had altered the folk of this town (if at all) and how they felt about it. The goblins related some of their kin had changed into larger, brown-skinned varieties, and that some were unhappy with this change. They also mentioned many of their kin were nearby; perhaps an (un)intentional threat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eventually, this trio was brought before King Kasper Willumarius, who was present and holding court that day, and after being questioned by him, the goblins were permitted half of an hour to seek and obtain their desired knowledge concerning changes to their kin before they must depart these lands.</span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sometime later, when many goblins had dispersed throughout town, another group of outlanders arrived and took up position around the royal court; I informed Willumarius of such and we proceeded to meet the host. There, a great pack of theriantropes of varying 'breeds', tense and agitated, surrounded the pair leading them: Silverfang, the intimidating legendary alpha of all therians, and the small-folk avatar of Gnimh, the supposed goddess of wild magic, and also the creator of goblinfolk and therians alike.</span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">King Willumarius, in his 'polite' way, inquired to the visit, and it became known that Gnimh was seeking a lost piece of her magic staff and apparently believed it to be in the vicinity of Dagger Deep. Their discussion was soon interrupted when an eager goblin, seeking approval from the 'mother of magic' (a lesser goddess perhaps, for the All-Father </span><i style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">Wodin</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> is </span><u style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">the</u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> God of Magic), lightly brushed Gnimh with a fawning hand, to which she responded by flying into a berserk-like fury, and tore its still-beating heart out from its chest with her bare hand and proceeded to devour it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She then loudly called for the slaughter of all goblins, and her pack of therianthropes were loosed to see her will done. King Willumarius offered aid to drive the goblins out of town, for their time had passed anyway, but when Gnimh demanded the ears of all goblins, whether they be male, female, or young, the king refused, as did many others including myself. The rumour that the goblins also had the missing piece was also spread along with a reward for finding and returning it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbV3kX682aNPHE_I92LxQ2kjoixWlI3o-F2NLtS3DTFyGapfjnGEWzNgX_LNXQC1peLkewF3gWW_qTsNOSw80qeVIdRzKx64a_mundRdHFCA-0BENaNYWdEnwlOj7qvY3t0D0C4OjJp5M/s1600/Kampi_sketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbV3kX682aNPHE_I92LxQ2kjoixWlI3o-F2NLtS3DTFyGapfjnGEWzNgX_LNXQC1peLkewF3gWW_qTsNOSw80qeVIdRzKx64a_mundRdHFCA-0BENaNYWdEnwlOj7qvY3t0D0C4OjJp5M/s320/Kampi_sketch.jpg" width="239" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Not entirely trusting the motivations Gnimh, Silverfang, or the host of therianthropes, I did not aid in driving the goblins out of town and the surrounding land, nor in the barbaric practice of collection their ears; I had been commanded to guard Willumarius and that I did. The goblins were quickly routed and it became a slaughter; though Willumarius claimed his goddess Cheeba had charged him many a time with the purge of goblinfolk, never he did deal so against their non-warriors, nor with such a degree of sheer malice. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Even though Gnimh was a supposed goddess and the king's decision to turn on the goblins might have been motivated out of the best interests of the town, I could not help but silently question his convictions to his goddess; by allowing Gnimh's word and tolerating her fanaticism, he in my own mind was placing her above his own goddess. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I kept these specific thoughts to myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <br />
A group of us then followed </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Watch lieutenant Odez </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">into Ork's Field, as he began to enforce the kings' order. After witnessing a skirmish between a group of goblins and therians, Ajax, in a somewhat surprising turn, agreed with my troubled assessment that this persecution of goblins was rapidly turning into a needless genocide. Perhaps after the events at Amsel, we are both loath to trust the whims of beings motivated by unquenchable hunger or desire.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Privately, we made the choice to parley with the goblinfolk, to stave hostilities, but to mostly learn if they did in fact have the missing staff-piece Gnimh was searching for. Speaking with the brown hobgoblin Commander Small-Ear, who seemed to respect my supposed position of authority as a member of the Watch, related that they did in fact have such a item and were keeping it from Gnimh on the belief that if she was able to gain such a thing, it would giver her complete control over all therianthropes, which would spell further doom to his kind. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We were further told their 'red' leader was safekeeping it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We initially mistook a different firegoblin, matching our description of the other I had met earlier, who was touting something about a great 'Chair-Man' and would gave me a bizarre small book bound in red. I still have this odd piece of literature; I feel he might have been a member of the <i>Liberateurs</i> movement...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Soon a tense standoff between the therian host, lead by its two figures, and a group of loyal citizens of Dagger Deep, led by King Willumarius. developed; the king believing Silverfang to be under Gnimh's control boldly attempted to slice open his throat to 'release him'. That bold action caused therians to turn on us and the majority of us were slain. Yet, despite such a daring act, Silverfang still sued for a peaceful resolution between the Deep and his goddess and pack, and those who had fallen from the skirmish were returned to life.</span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following that altercation, one of the therians addressed me directly; appealing to my reason and attempting to liken their worship of Gnimh like my own faith in the Æsir, to which I responded with a question: Were they so devoted to their 'goddess' to have no concerns at all about the rumour that Gnimh would have complete control over all of them should the missing piece be found? He said that that would allow for the highest form of worship, to which I said their blind loyalty is nothing like my belief in my gods; the truest form of faith is being granted the choice not to follow them, but making the choice to do so.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ajax and I finally met with the leader of the firegoblins and let them know our peaceful intentions; he eventually disclosed to us that he no longer had possession of the lost staff-piece, though the way he said it also told that Gnimh had it neither. Eventually the two of us decided to seek out the therian host, which for sometime had been largely visible but had since disappeared, and exchanged rumours with several allies in Darkwood: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">First, a therianthrope commonly known by the nickname of 'X', related how Gnimh had exerted her control upon nearby were-creatures that were not loyal to her, bidding them to act against their own will (Ajax and I witnessed such when the local beast-man Shadow attacked and searched the body of the goblin leader for the missing piece, soon after we spoke with him; supposedly he was under Gnimh's influence when doing so); several of the resident therians aided the opposition to the goddess by staying out of the reach of her influence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_C3e0GUFDxZaVdKefYFkUovfLFQV5KijYwEMqH7lfzuzFjkv55Xc33TIX6GKWjrHvHHeXfsOayPWY2qKEURORpjnCV9PyNGL0HlH4HezOisDiBdXAmRPWt1fw_phXf7GvCDSN9aVOQw/s1600/Lady+Light2_sketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_C3e0GUFDxZaVdKefYFkUovfLFQV5KijYwEMqH7lfzuzFjkv55Xc33TIX6GKWjrHvHHeXfsOayPWY2qKEURORpjnCV9PyNGL0HlH4HezOisDiBdXAmRPWt1fw_phXf7GvCDSN9aVOQw/s200/Lady+Light2_sketch.jpg" width="149" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Second, the well-meaning but occasionally very naïve elven priestess, Lady Light, spoke a rumour that the staff-piece had found its way back to Gnimh. When I was able to draw Ajax's attention away from her bosom, we decided to find and confront the goddess and see if this was true. A young newcomer by the name of Ulfric joined us on our search; the less heavily laden youth made a good scout compared to the noisier pair (particularly Ajax and all his maille and plate). Alas, our search was fruitless, though we did spy Balthier travelling through Ork's field by his lonesome; avoiding Gnimh's influence or perhaps on some devious personal errand. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">By the time we had returned from our trip, I spied a familiar object lying ahead of us upon the path: Milo's spear. Just after I ran ahead and retrieved it, a group of therians appeared farther down the path carrying the wererat himself. The three of us prepared for conflict, but their leader Silverfang claimed their intention was amicable; apparently Milo had been poisoned with a deadly toxin that prevented him from being brought back to life and Gnimh's power would restore him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though the intentions seemed outwardly cordial, the details the lay beneath were less than benevolent (a fitting parable for therians in general I think); it seems that Milo had poisoned himself to prevent Gnimh's influence forcing him to reveal the location of the lost piece, which the now revived and compelled captain related that Balthier was safeguarding it from Gnimh. Having revealed the desired information, Milo and the rest of us were allowed to leave (further) unharmed, though it did take some convincing for Milo not to attempt any arrests.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After returning my captain to town and having a brief respite, I came upon the therians yet again in South Ork's Field whilst searching for Ajax and my other allies that had last been there; they lay dead at the feet of Silverfang's pack and before I could issue challenge, my body went rigid and darkness fell upon my eyes and deafness upon my ears.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">An eternity of void seemed to pass but it must have not lasted longer than a moment, for my senses were suddenly returned with a sharp inhalation of breath, and the once still corpses were now lumbering about abnormally, imbued with unlife. I began to retreat slowly, hand on the hilt of <i>Sváfnir</i>, coolly voicing my concern at the situation. Silverfang claimed they had grown tired of acting diplomatically and working within the laws of Dagger Deep. He then commanded several of his pack to slay me; as I sprinted towards the rear entrance to the tavern I was overrun and slain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When at last I was returned to life by friendly faces, we moved rapidly to defend the town from attack by the deceiving therians; Gnimh's host held the bailey and courtyard and the majority of the attack was focused on the western gate, led by King Willumarius. I opted for a strike upon the neglected north gate, I bypassed their lousy defense and distracted those inside the bailey by dashing along the battlement, before I briefly sparring with the werewolf whom I debated with on the nature of worship, before attacking the enemies' rear flank. Soon though, our initial attack force of citizen and goblin allies were routed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though the therians had ample opportunity to slay all inhabitants and feast upon our corpses, they instead chose to pursue the fleeing goblin forces and leave us to our recovery. Hopefully Gnimh and Silverfang chose not to return, though we best prepare for such an eventuality.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As dusk began to settle, the majority of the town did what they always did following a endured crisis: drink and feast. Though I kept from partaking in too much of drink (wary of the anger in me it brings forth as of late), I did share some mild elven wine with Ajax along with some of my vittles, as we rested our thews over a game of pip'n'tiles (to which we argued about the rules) before we departed for some air (and more food for me from Kippo's shoppe; I cannot recall the last time I was so ravenous with hunger).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though Ajax had been lustily tolling the fairness of Odez's newest apprentice </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">all throughout the day</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, an elven maiden with a name recalling pleasantly exhaling, both of us became melancholic as he pined about his lost love, Erin Westwood of Averland, and I about the meaning behind awful dreams that have been haunting me as of late. Eventually, we both took solitude seperately.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I spent my own time patrolling town, ruminating deeply, and spending time in prayer to the </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Æsir,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> asking for their guidance. Ajax and I later crossed paths and by this point he was rather drunk;</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> wandering darkened paths alone, lit only by the full moon, singing half-remembered songs to himself. I followed him for sometime, watching over him until we made our way back to the lit streets of town.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I resumed my patrol, I encountered the elf priestess Lady Light, and as we exchanged pleasantries my gaze briefly fell to her chest and I saw what had drawn my companion's attention earlier that day: On her cloak was two polished brass brooches, each in the shape of the noonday sun casting its rays. The general likeness to the heraldry of Averland was uncanny, and I at once knew I had a gift for Ajax that would hopefully cheer him up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I politely inquired to purchase one from her, and offered her a hundred daen for such, far more than what she believed it worth; but I was inconveniencing the Lady by taking one of her cloak clasps and I wished to present this gift in person to my friend this evening whilst there was still the opportunity to do so.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2PtEiavd01bm4rtmaj45-zDWckH_jdfzJ5v7FmjLWLfY2HQ2V5b8pcoXgZAIvlpRzPOlTd-xAfgyYW1lRjJfm6aICf4kzTWBhaMq9tkYXy5k05x1lcMW0tV4k0NyZGauWCC_weaNaeLQ/s1600/Ajax+%2526+Kampi_sketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2PtEiavd01bm4rtmaj45-zDWckH_jdfzJ5v7FmjLWLfY2HQ2V5b8pcoXgZAIvlpRzPOlTd-xAfgyYW1lRjJfm6aICf4kzTWBhaMq9tkYXy5k05x1lcMW0tV4k0NyZGauWCC_weaNaeLQ/s320/Ajax+%2526+Kampi_sketch.jpg" width="239" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I headed to the tavern with the brooch in my possession and found Ajax discussing with an odd fellow, named Brusjef, about sending a letter to Averland; he had previously mentioned to me how he had no knowledge if any of his letters to Erin had ever arrived in her far off realm, and I, in perhaps poor jest, suggested he have the trader Brusjef ensure delivery of such in the future. Apparently he took my suggestion seriously.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When he concluded his talk flustered, yet hopeful that he will be able to establish contact, I asked him if he was somewhat soberer, and he said he was; I placed the sun brooch on the table before him. I shan't forget the look of surprise and joy upon his face when his eyes befell that gift.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dispite all we've been through together; the arguments,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">the disagreements,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> the hardships, and perhaps above all, Amsel:<br />
<br /><br />
I want to believe Ajax and I have forged an unbreakable bond. Gods know I need one.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<h4>
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></b></h4>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">-Ref ' Kampi' Vandillson</span></i></div>
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Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-17926296975577374422016-02-28T13:04:00.001-08:002016-02-28T13:10:14.549-08:005th Year Anniversary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This short post is to commemorate today as the 5th year anniversary of the <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/2011/02/first.html" target="_blank">very first post</a> on this blog! Huzzah! This is also my final post as an unmarried man, for tomorrow my Missus and I are to be wed! :D<br />
<br />
Looking back, it's amazing to see that I kept this blog going for so long. Mind you, I admit that it's far from a constant font of new entries or material, but it has been a nice sounding board throughout half a decade. I am only 16 more entries away from hitting 200 posts; it'd be neat if I can reach that amount before the remainder of the year finishes.<br />
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It's also interesting being able to look back upon the changes in my general gaming interests, chiefly my huge shift from tabletop Role Playing Games to Live Action Role Playing. Not to say I am no longer interested in RPGs, it's just that much of my free (gaming) time has been occupied by weekly LARP events at <b>Medieval Chaos</b>. I have still been running/playing RPGs during <b>MC's</b> off season, I just have not had the time to post any relevant entries on such, as I am somewhat busier than I used to be.<br />
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I take that as a good thing. :)<br />
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<span style="font-size: 18.72px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Ubi Amicitia, Ibi Victoria</span>Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-28524871070015471232016-02-14T17:00:00.000-08:002016-02-14T17:00:19.762-08:00Februa! Februalia! Februatio!Today, for many is Valentine's Day, and in the past it shared the same general date of the ancient Roman festival of <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lupercalia" target="_blank">Lupercalia</a></i> (which developed from older festivals whose various names share the title of this post). Such was a festival of ritual cleansing, where I see some modern day similarities with 'spring cleaning'; we also had the gaelic festival of <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imbolc" target="_blank">Imbolc</a></i>, marking the beginning of spring, at the start of this month and nearly a week prior we also had the lunar new year. These all seem to point towards ushering new beginnings, and aside from it also being my month of birth, I feel they are apt for two other major inceptions: <br />
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The first: Late evening of the day before marked the official release of <b><i>Medieval Chaos</i></b>' <a href="http://www.medievalchaos.ca/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/MCthirdeditionhandbookFeb13th2016.pdf" target="_blank">third edition handbook</a>; a joint culmination of the collaborative effort a small committee of devoted players to realize the vision of our games' founder and president, Jared Williams.<br />
<br />
One of the reasons I am posting this beyond boosting the fresh signal of 3.0, I'm doing a rare thing and allowing let my pride to show, in that I, along with a half-dozen other excellent designers, were personally thanked for our efforts on developing and polishing this 145-page document from its initial stages over half a year past, to the final edits just before the book was officially released barely a day ago. Cheers to my colleagues; I think we should all be proud of what we together accomplished: as said, it is "our best book yet".<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://www.medievalchaos.ca/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/MCthirdeditionhandbookFeb13th2016.pdf" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycbjZLvrVy2TxO-NI8VDjTYI1QnoSDhf9Z-iGvnsodd7qLiMN5TMbZ_vKd7PuwDxK0jPbU_n5Qvu7XdzUjdCl-pGPhN9T1s9G5hEPFis5HPFtg9cl7EqxHPMhszv92hmP5Qd7_Sko9_M/s640/MC+Handbook+3.0+Cover.jpg" width="494" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.medievalchaos.ca/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/MCthirdeditionhandbookFeb13th2016.pdf" target="_blank">Medieval Chaos, Players Handbook, Third Edition</a></td></tr>
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It looks like my years of 'studying' RPGs, rule systems and mechanics finally paid dividends; or rather I feel they made it easier to work on abstract gaming concepts and the like. As with any writer/designer, one would hope that their hard work will be met positively by the majority of their audience, but at least for me, I'd like to think I won't take criticism personally; the entire book is not my creation alone, I know you can't appease 100% of everyone, and I'm sure there will be a (hopefully) relatively minor percentage of the playerbase that will be mostly unhappy with the changes made, but I feel that we collectively did what was best for the game/players and I won't even entertain the notion that we did otherwise.<br />
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So one of my great time-sinks during the past many months has drawn partially to a close, and I am given a brief respite to focus on what is actually best in life (and my second reason why this is a special month): my rapidly approaching marriage to my amazing and wonderful Missus who has stuck with me for going on nine years now, throughout all my health concerns and silly things like working on rules for the imaginary games I play, and everything other little thing. <3<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_fmqCMUftqJN1TvJ0lWEzlYPdl76Kaadg98nwls4pZVNwLnd54saRAmak1Ve9somqP6UUS_9Kb1wAzmVN05-97leirg85LjOXdjH1CRSHmgbfRzhSutzkr2lo_7qMHzkHY4zmBPD5_I/s1600/Kampi+%2526+Avana_Imbolc2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_fmqCMUftqJN1TvJ0lWEzlYPdl76Kaadg98nwls4pZVNwLnd54saRAmak1Ve9somqP6UUS_9Kb1wAzmVN05-97leirg85LjOXdjH1CRSHmgbfRzhSutzkr2lo_7qMHzkHY4zmBPD5_I/s400/Kampi+%2526+Avana_Imbolc2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avana & Kampi as 'dates' at Imbolc Ball</td></tr>
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My better half did me the supreme glee of coming out to last weekend's Imbolc Ball as her MC character, Avana, and has begun to take her first steps on acting on her desire to take a more active role in this local hobby and community; and for that, I cannot express the feelings I have (be assured, they are most positive). Despite being together for so long, gaming, in any form, has never been a hobby we shared together, so I feel when she begins to read through 3.0, her understanding (or lack thereof) will speak volumes how successful our simplification of the system was, particularly for new players.<br />
<br />
Truth be told, it is an odd feeling to say the least, knowing that 3.0 was a system that had been developed entirely in the realm of thought and text; we haven't had the opportunity to seen how any/all of it works in <i>actual</i> play. I suspect the months following the season opener come April may be filled with some confusion, rules discussion, and hot-fixes to broken mechanics, but we'll deal with that when we come to it. I believe our rules committee (which I am also apart of, as I wish to take active part in both the continual development of 3.0 as well as facilitate our playerbase with the adoption of this new ruleset), is well-equipped for the task ahead of us. Hopefully, our community will be patient as we work kinks out of the system.<br />
<br />
Anyway, our real-life union is rapidly approaching and I am very much looking forward to the date, though I can't help but be a bit nervous; we still have a few details to iron out but I feel most of the major bits have been sorted.<br />
<br />
And for those of you who find my fictions more interesting than my facts: yes, I am still working upon the <i><u><a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank">Saga of the Northern Hunt</a></u></i>, and I also have an entry specially related to the Imbolc Ball that I am compiling, I think I am going to release it after I have completed the <i>Saga</i> arc just to keep it chronologically consistent; if I don't find the time for any more releases this month, I should have the opportunity to do so by the <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ides_of_March" target="_blank">Ides of March</a></i>?<br /><br />
<h3>
<i>Ubi Amicitia, Ibi Victoria</i></h3>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-57859567100620028732016-01-30T16:58:00.000-08:002016-01-30T16:58:43.832-08:00Kampi's Saga: The Northern Hunt - Part III<span style="font-family: inherit;">As the days pass by, my goal of finishing this story arc of </span><a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank"><b>Kampi's Saga</b></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> before the Imbolc Ball becomes less likely. I'm not letting myself become too concerned about meeting this deadline, it just means fellow guests at the gala may have the </span>opportunity to<span style="font-family: inherit;"> be privy to a conclusive </span>rendition of this tale<span style="font-family: inherit;">, though most likely abridged. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unfortunately, dear readers, unless you fall into the former group, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until I </span>finish<span style="font-family: inherit;"> this story in text form to get the whole summary, but at least it will be complete in detail!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Onward to the third part of <b><u><i>The Northern Hunt</i></u></b>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>The Third D</b><b>ay of the Moon</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of Yule</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u><br />
</u><u>Runes:</u> Jera</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Eir</i>, Goddess of Mercy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Year</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Harvest</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Promise, Renewal, Reward</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Interminable, Repetition, Reversal</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
This evening it is reckoned to be the winter solstice and for many including myself, the midwinter festival of Yule. Back in my homeland we would count the beginning of a new year during the </span><i style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">Vetrnætr</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> (Winter Nights) festival or as it is known locally, Samhain; </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">folk in these lands tend to place the beginning of a new year on the solstice, so I will follow the local custom out of ease.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was said amongst my folk that during the small hours of this night, the <i>Wild Hunt</i>, led by <i>Wodin</i> astride his eight-legged horse Sleipnir, would be at its peak and it would pass all-throughout the lands of Midgard. Many Nordthic-folk, mostly children, would fill their socks or shoes with hay and place it outside their doors to feed Sleipnir for the chance to be bestowed a gift or boon by <i>Wodin</i>. I am unashamed to admit I plan on following this tradition before I retire for the evening.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tomorrow, Ajax and I take our leave of Greyward Keep and Shale Glacier, and begin the remainder of our sojourn to the thorp of Amsel, where we are to look into such dire rumors of this 'wendigo' creature.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To make the journey through the lands now locked in snow, frost, and rime, the two of us ventured a fortnight ago into the burg in an attempt to locate a suitable means of transportation; as I mentioned before, I had a few ideas of possible ways we could make our passage. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It came to my realization during my stay in here that I had missed reproducing my piece taken from the </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Pilgrim's Guide to Arrakis on Shale Glacier into my journal entry:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">-An excerpt from “A Pilgrim's Guide to Arrakis”</span> </blockquote>
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<i style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">“It is in the East, just before the craggy Dragon Peaks, that evidence of Ankh's feudal tradition is still seen. One of the larger baronies sits just to the North of freshwater-Loch Moraine. Shale Glacier is a town still steeped in that feudal culture, one that still boasts the largest functional iron and orichalcum mine in the West. Although out of the way, The Pilgrim's Guide to Arrakis suggests that if you are making your way East through the mountains, do so by way of Shale Glacier. The Loch ensures a fair temperature most of the year, and the locally-brewed Maolanach Mead provides more than enough of a reason to stay in the Winter!"</i></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>"It is suggested however, that pilgrims avoid straying too far off the path and into the mountains, as the locals readily tell tales of the hostile mountain fauna. Beyond the typical monstrous fare, there are also savage-Human tribes that tend toward brigandry or prisoner-taking. The Pilgrim's Guide suggests the following as locations of note in Shale Glacier - Twin Vixen Taphouse is one of the oldest establishments in the town and was said to be named after a pair of local amiable Succubi! The enormous open-air forges are also worth seeing, and any visit to the town would not be complete without an orichalcum souvenir from one of its artisans. Finally, the forest that surrounds the lake is replete with boar and stag for the pilgrim looking for a challenging hunt!”</i></span> </blockquote>
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<i style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">“Pilgrims may note the difficult and rugged road that leads North from Shale Glacier; The Guide suggests employing a skilled boatman, as a small but present merchant line uses the river to travel upstream to the smaller towns to the North. However for the dedicated Pilgrim, the road is not impassible and certainly no more dangerous than what is to be expected. Carrying on North, the Pilgrim...”</i></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For a relatively remote settlement, Shale Glacier is a surprisingly robust town, even in during winter; the Pilgrim's Guide failed to note the population mixture, which appears to be mostly humans and dwarfs, though I did glimpse what appeared to be <i>jötunn </i>of a familiar cast of those of my homeland.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Before I could personally investigate further Ajax directed me towards the market section of the town; the streets and eaves of the half-timbered buildings were decorated with what my companion referred to as 'bunts' (small wedge-shaped flags coloured and adorned with the crests of prominent families), in cheer for the yuletide season.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thinking it unwise to strike out on my own, I accompanied Ajax as we began our inquiries; our first several visits were to shoppes that commonly traded in commodities brought in from other settlements whilst exporting local goods, hoping to gain passage as we did before on a procession heading to Shale Glacier. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unfortunately, it was not to be; all the trade companies we spoke with were not planning any excursions northward until the first spring thaw.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">During our endeavor,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> I did behold two distinct ideas of my own for traversing the rime-scape: The first was pair of devices, fashioned of wooden frames and woven with rawhide lacing,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> that when worn underneath ones' shod feet, would aid when walking through deep snow (or more correctly, over-top</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">); though I was sure we were not considering making the vast distance on foot, I thought such footwear would be practical in the snowladen wilds.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ajax only became amenable to the acquisition of this gear after I showed him another set of objects and elaborated upon the primary idea I had for traveling under our own power; whilst the 'snowshoe' was sometimes used back in my lands, it was not as common for wintertime travel as mush as the ski. The word '</span><i style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">skidth</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">' can be roughly translated to the Old Nordthic meaning for a 'stick'; a ski was basically that, a long, flat plank of wood that one attached underneath ones foot midway along the skis length. The wearer would then glide upon the ski over snow or frozen surfaces by expending little effort in comparison to trekking through it, using their free leg to propel themselves; a </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">single pole aided in balance. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I explained all of this to Ajax, he balked at the very prospect of us doing so, for he claimed it would be impossible, and even if it was not, only elves would be 'delicate' enough to be able to 'dance' across snow in such manner; Ajax then attempted to mask his unease by making a tired joke about my lean stature. I admit that I might have allowed myself to get unduly excited for the chance to go 'skiing', but I had to agree that doing so would not be feasible with our large collection of gear.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our traveling prospects having turned up empty, we decided to take a brief respite; even before I could mention it, Ajax said with a grin that we were going to 'see the girls' at the (in)famous Twin Vixen Taphouse.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My companion led us through several alleyways and in though a rear door of the establishment; evidently Ajax wanted to limit the chance that knowledge of one of the Duke's sons seen visiting this place could find its way into the wrong ears.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Even in the rear of the building it was warm and humid inside; almost beyond comfort even after we doffed most of our apparel. It was easy to discern one of the reasons for this heat, for it permitted patrons of this tavern, perhaps more so the barmaids, to wear less wear despite the chilly season. We found seat at the bar, right by Ajax's 'favourite spot', and I decided to partake in the Guide's endorsement and ordered a </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Maolanach Mead for the both of us.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">By the gods, I enjoy a good mead, and we did enjoy several of these delicious drinks</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>.</i> Whilst Ajax was busy wandering the tavern, making vulgar talk with whatever female would indulge his presence, I struck up an exchange with an elven traveler named Fenni. I mentioned how uncommon I found it to see any of his kind in this town and that his dress spoke of one who was not local, much like myself, to which he elaborated that he recently arrived in Shale Glacier and haled from outside of the community of Icebreeze; which even in my slightly drunken state, I recalled was a settlement marked upon Ajax's map inside of a great track of old-growth forest, just on the northern side of Cayoush Lake.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The look of my realization on the fateful implications of that statement, as it slowly dawned upon my face, Fenni must have found quite amusing; I immediately inquired further on his method of travel though the cold hinterlands, which he explained thusly: He and several other companions made their journey southwards through the icebound lands over the course of a few days using sleighs drawn by '<i>trandaros</i>', stag-like animals that tend to inhabit the northern regions. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I made polite discussion on other topics and bought us a round of drinks before I shared the particulars of our sojourn, and after I came to the part detailing our current situation, emboldened by drink, I plainly appealed to him for aid in reaching our destination and that he would be generously compensated for his time and effort; this was a falsehood on my part, as I personally had little of value to grant for such a request.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Fenni spoke that it was perhaps foolish for the two of us to undertake such a perilous journey in the heart of wintertide, and more so that we were making Amsel our destination, for he heard the rumours of creature that has benighted that thorpe for several months. But he did promise that he would speak with his companions and meet me back at the taphouse in a weeks' time, and with that oath he took his leave; my mind buzzed for ideas which I may keep my own promise of payment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Soon afterwards, Ajax finally reappeared, his drunkenness exaggerating his gait, speech, and grin. I told him the news I had learnt and our possible prospects, to which he halfheartedly listened to, for his glazed eyes were busy cavorting over the form of a female dressed in an relatively moderate frock, compared to the attire of most women in that establishment. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To both our surprise, she approached us, smiling, but to me something of her countenance told me she was not to be trifled with. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"</span><i style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">Inanna!</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">" Blurted Ajax in slurred greeting. "<i>Greetings, Ajax. You appear to have me confused with my sister. I'm Mara.</i>" she replied in a sultry yet razor-sharp tone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"'<i>Ave ye come teh keep meh companeh, luv? 'Tis been a while since we've seen nor been wit' eacho'ther.</i>" replied Ajax in a manner in which suggested he had forgotten I was present; or that he would have preferred if I was not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To which Mara replied: "<i>Indeed, it has been sometime. If I recall correctly it was a rather... short... time.</i>" I choked upon my drink and poorly stifled a laugh as Ajax responded with a tepid chuckle before saying: "<i>Thun aye'll joost 'ave to make up for los'time, eh lass?</i>"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"<i>Unfortunately Ajax, after speaking with some of the other girls about your past... shall we say, deeds, and now your present return, your presence here has grown somewhat, wanting as of late. Have you come to make good on your myriad of promises?</i>" Something glinted in her hand while she said that; a shining blade made my mind quickly become sober.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ajax, who seemed completely obvious to the veiled threat, began to speak but I interrupted him, <strike>pulling</strike> dragging my crocked associate towards where we made our entrance, all the while apologizing to Mara for my drunken friend, who partially aided my efforts by following us and keeping Ajax distracted until the pair of us were unceremoniously shunted out the door. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We stumbled our way back to Grayward Keep, and after a few hours of recovering I was able to fully disclose our happenstance to a surly Ajax, who reluctantly agreed to the possibility if all other avenues failed. My own pride kept me from mentioning my promise of payment. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Over the next several days, the two of us explored any other prospects, but none proved acceptable.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Before I forget to, I should mention a different occurrence of note: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One day, when I was sitting alone in one of the common rooms working upon my needlework, the dwarf Dunlevy, fiancee to Ajax's elder sister Bronwyn, passed by the doorway, halted and sighed, staring in at me the whole time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"<i>Nah, nah, nah, laddie. 'At's not the only craft fit to be practicin' in this town. Sure ye can do it when you dun 'ave the means to practice forgin' in tha smithy.</i>" spoke Dunlevy as he began to hurry me from the room.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUBI39T9FXj1dOBj5pcQjrWXj_8kbdbwLFHRh-ygYLhdEs-SeNxwsVIP6vBXXwCwpv57YyB6GmT1RUQQ5FJggGfvGpNjBvdOGtNZdgyw0yXB2xa1ZxibD6j900DBDRDyAWtFPy2Pj_Lg4/s1600/Dunlevy_painted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUBI39T9FXj1dOBj5pcQjrWXj_8kbdbwLFHRh-ygYLhdEs-SeNxwsVIP6vBXXwCwpv57YyB6GmT1RUQQ5FJggGfvGpNjBvdOGtNZdgyw0yXB2xa1ZxibD6j900DBDRDyAWtFPy2Pj_Lg4/s400/Dunlevy_painted.jpg" width="216" /></a> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I told him that I had only a passing familiarity with the upkeep of my own worn armour and what I had learned from my smith friend, Seppo; to which he replied "<i>Och, and here aye been told that yer Ajax's squire an' yet can't even look after his guard! Well, we'll soon make that right, aye!</i>" Again, I chose not to dispute the presumption, which now seemed fact throughout the Keep. "<i>An' aye could use another hand on somotha the pieces aye been workin' on</i>"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once we were at the Keep's smithy, Dunlevy showed me the patterns of his current project: as a yuletide gift, Ajax was to be given a set of steel greaves. And after I did my best aiding him whilst he hammered and drew out the plate, to familiarize myself, 'as squire', on their upkeep and maintenance, the dwarf showed me to beat out any dents and polish them. Dunlevy also set me to work on the repair of several timeworn shirts of maille, as well as other pieces of armour. It did please me that my needlework skill was somewhat practical when fixing the tears and rents in the odd quilted gambeson.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Needless to say my time up until a few days before yule was busy learning and practicing the craft of armoursmithing; I feel it helped me from dwelling upon the trials to come.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A week following our parting, I returned to the Twin Vixen Taphouse, full of worry and anticipation; Ajax perhaps wisely decided not to accompany me, though he did assure that funding would be provided if this elf agreed to assist us. Fenni did not fail to turn up soon after my arrival, and his greeting matched the congenial look upon his face; he was kind enough to cease prolonging my anticipation: he and his company agreed to take Ajax and I to the eastern shore of Cayoush Lake where Amsel River fed into it, if we would meet his price; trusting that Ajax could meet it, I agreed and we shook arms upon our pact.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After purchasing him a celebratory drink, I mentioned our intent to leave the day following yuletide (less than a week away) and he told where outside Shale Glacier to meet his company. Fenni left soon afterward having finishing his draft, and I likewise returned to the Grayward house and told Ajax of our progress; he still seemed reticent on the nature of our arraignment, but I could tell he was also relieved we had at last found means to travel.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The days before our departure were filled with preparations, both for the yule festival and for our own plans; even though we kept mostly hush about the details, word quickly spread around the house of our intent to leave following the solstice. It was during this time I actually spoke to the Duke privately, when he pulled me aside before the yuletide feast. Though comparatively short in stature even after he bade me to have a seat, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lord Agarin Greyward towers over one with his mere presence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The dwarven duke made it clear that in knowing his son Ajax, that he would undoubtedly be drawn to the adventurous rumors of the 'wendigo' in Amsel. Without asking, he presumed where the two of us intended on heading and that his son had not made it apparent as he did not want his mother to worry. Before I could answer he silenced me with an upraised hand and continued that Ajax had already been given an allowance that he was sure was being put toward our preparations; he was not speaking to me to convince us of the futility of this endeavor. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lord Greyward looked me in the eye as he said: "<i>Despite where yer travels do take the two of ye, the only thing aye ask of ye as 'is friend, is to look after me son as best ye can.</i>" Before him and the all the <i>Æsir</i>, I swore to do so; his lordship clapped me on the shoulder and w</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">e joined the others for the midwinter banquet.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A truly memorable feast followed: a roasted boar's head, decorated with sprigs of evergreen, holly, and of exotic fruits was the centerpiece. There were pies of venison, smoked salmon, manchet bread, roasted beetroot and shallot, and various puddings for the concluding course. Ale, mead, wine, and other drinks were abundant throughout.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After our meal, there was an exchange of customary gifts between all members of the household; Ajax received the plate greaves Dunlevy had fashioned, and to my own surprise, I was presented with one of maille haubergeons I helped renew to working form. And sweet, sweet Nerys gifted me a pewter cat pendant that reminded me of the goddess <i>Valfreyja</i>. I am deeply honoured by the extent of the Greyward's hospitality, a good part of me regrets we are to take our leave on the morrow.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And now, before I set myself down to sleep a final time in a warm, dry bed, I shall put out my boots that I have filled with hay as an offering to <i>Wodin</i> for approval of this perilous journey ahead.</span><br />
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<h4>
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></b></h4>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">~Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<h3>
<i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To Be Continued...</span></i></h3>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-21718971794973243282016-01-17T16:44:00.001-08:002016-01-17T16:44:17.191-08:00Kampi's Saga: The Northern Hunt - Part II<span style="font-family: inherit;">I present part two of our current <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank"><b>Kampi's Saga</b></a> arc: <u><i>The Northern Hunt</i></u>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">I originally planned on writing all the events of Ajax and Kampi's visit to Shale Glacier in a single entry, but </span>whilst I was developing it, it<span style="font-family: inherit;"> just grew so much; so much in fact I'm going to have to divide the remainder of events to the next entry. This is good because I love how rich this is getting in detail, but at the same time this will probably prolong me from finishing this story arc by the beginning of February. I have plenty of other tasks that also need to be done by then!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyway, I hope you enjoy part two!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>The Second D</b><b>ay of the Sun</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Month of Yule</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u><br />
</u><u>Runes:</u> Isa</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Skadthi</i>, the Goddess of the Mountains</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Literal Meanings:</u> Ice</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Stasis</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Contemplation, Patience, Reflection</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Frustration, Isolation, Stagnation</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Ajax and I have been here at his family estate, Greyward Keep, about a fortnight now. Our journey to Shale Glacier, following my previous entry, was relatively uneventful; I admit how shameful it was for me for my thoughts to become so dark, particularly the presumptions I began to make of the trader folk whose vessel we shared during the voyage. Fortunately, I kept such thoughts to myself and refrained from inadvertently causing any grievance. I wish those kindly merchants a prosperous new year; I shall send appeals to the god <i>Freyng</i> to see that they are rewarded for their good nature and generosity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Several nights journey following our brief halt at that riverside trading hub, we entered into the southern mouth of Loch Moraine early in the day; this large lake is home to the township of Shale Glacier across it at the northern end.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
When we at last disembarked at the pier near the town, gathered our belongings, rendered full payment to our skipper and said our farewells, my companion and I, instead of making for the path towards the village proper, followed the shoreline. When I inquired to this reason, Ajax told me that this was the way up to Greyward Keep that required the least effort. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
This did puzzled me, for if the manor dwelt on the precipice of the tor, than surely it would cost us less exertion taking the gradual path through the town and up the side of the mount rather than attempting to scale the sheer rock face our current route was leading us adjacent to.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Upon rounding an outcrop, our sights befell upon a small assemblage of buildings radiating out from the side of the cliff. Aside from the makings of a large sealed entrance constructed into the base of the crag, I noticed a single, thick woven cord ascending parallel to the cliff face from the smokestack of one of the buildings.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Though I could not see what this line was attached to above, for it faded away into the snowy haze, I soon discovered it's purpose: We moved to the building it sprouted from and Ajax knocked upon the door. A moment later, a slat set midway into the entrance slid open and a pair of dark, scrutinizing eyes stared up at us whilst a gruff voice inquired to our business. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Ajax replied in his genial way, disregarding the question and asking his own: that if the pair of eyes belonged to a 'Reginn Farlode', at which the eyes narrowed further and staidly replied what did it matter if they were? Ajax flung open the dirty travelling cloak he had wrapped about himself to reveal the surcoat he wore underneath; I could see the eyes widen as they fell upon the family crest.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
The slat quickly snapped shut and the door opened; a dwarf sporting a shorn pate and a wiry beard rapidly ushered inside whilst muttering apologies that he didn't initially recognize his 'lordship'. The inside of the building was a single room that mostly consisted of benches adjacent to the walls around the fire-pit in the centre; at least I first mistook it for a fire-pit, but it was empty of both fuel and flame, and instead a small hearth rested against the far wall, around which two other individuals, a man and another dwarf, had sat before they rose in silent greeting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
The pit in the middle of the room descended some distance below the floor into the ground; the cord spotted outside continued down from the shaft in the ceiling and disappeared into the pit, and on closer inspection I could see it was not braided of any natural fibre but bore the resemblance to ferric tendons. Adjacent to the pit, was some sort of machine of wood and metal that I could only liken to a wheel used for spinning yarn, although much greater in size and more complex in purpose; beside that nearly taking up the entirety of the southern wall was a large round shape similar to a water wheel.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
The dwarf Reginn Farlode inquired if "My Lord Greyward and companion", referring to Ajax and myself, were planning on heading up to the Keep; when Ajax confirmed this conjecture, the two other dwellers wordlessly moved to the odd device and began setting it into motion by means the manipulation of levers by the man and by the dwarf climbing into the wheel and turning it with his steady gait; Reginn attempted his best at polite idle talk with the voluble Ajax.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I admit I do not recall most of their exchange for I was fascinated watching the whirling of the machine and how it spooled in the lone cable similarly to how the cranes of the harbour of Helm's Deep function. After a few moderately quiet moments, I was suddenly startled by a great tumult from the roof of the building as a large object, barrel in shape, descended from the smokeshaft and came to a stop partially in the pit; the bottom of a what appeared to be door set into the side rested level with the floor and faced the two of us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Reginn shuffled over to the door, swung it open, and made a exaggerated sweeping gesture for us to enter; Ajax indifferently did so, and after a moment of hesitation on my part, I did as well. When the door was shut fast, locking the two us in the small cell and it began to ascend, my mind could not help but briefly fall upon how lawbreakers must have felt when hung out in a gibbet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
As the cask was lifted out of the flue of the building and began to rise far above the land below, it must have been quite apparent to Ajax my unease as I gripped tightly to the internal frame whilst staring in a mixture of dread and wonder through the glass portholes at our surroundings: one looked upon the craggy rock face of the cliff as it scrolled by; another offered a breathtaking sight over Loch Moraine; and the canopy offered the view of three cables tenuously lifting our cell to wrought-iron arms extending from a magnificent manor build into/onto the summit. Ajax did his best to stifle a laugh with a lopsided grin at my obvious awe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After what seemed an eternity we finally halted our ascent, the door of our lift leading onto a metal lattice extending from a keep wall build into the cliff-face. When my legs found their strength and I was able to quell the unease in my gut, I followed Ajax across the iron gangway and though the entryway set into the opposite wall. Once inside, we were accosted by a pair of armed men wearing colours similar to the fir-and-blond hues worn by Ajax, who upon pulling back his hood and shuffling off his cloak, silently commanded respect with his mere appearance, as it did before with Reginn back down at the base of the mountain.</span><br />
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Unlike the dour dwarf, their mood was considerably more cordial and after paying their respects, one offered to send word throughout the keep that Ajax had returned from his travels abroad whilst the other would port our belongings; in response my friend politely declined these offers, claiming that he 'wished to make no fuss and that we would see to ourselves'. And here I thought Ajax would never turn down the chance to be the centre of attention; returning home has perhaps humbled him a bit?</span><br />
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Ajax led both of us down a brief passage and then up a winding stair until it opened onto a great long hall, lit by the daylight streaming in from numerous paned windows along its length. Just as we reached the far end of the corridor, a pair of footsteps hailed us. A man, more stocky and squat than either of us, with a great flaxen beard and dressed in finery of the familiar shades of Greyward household yet with a look of soldiery about him, welcomed Ajax and grasped him firmly by the arm. Aside from their differences, certain features were quite similar between the two: they both had that look that only comes from a blending of man and dwarven blood; they certainly spoke the same accent:</span><br />
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<i>"Tis great to see ye back 'ome and well, me brotheh!"</i> Ajax heartily returned the sentiment. His brother's eyes briefly fell upon me and he continued in a slightly more upright tone: <i>"And aye see ye finally took me advice on getting yerself a squire. Sensible! No Greyward should be venturing without eh good retainer to keep 'is effects and 'is affairs in order!"</i></span><br />
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I do admit the desire to speak out at that moment was rather strong, but I decided that would not be polite for a guest, so I remained still other than to glance over at Ajax, who only responded with a chuckle and that showy grin he commonly donned during awkward moments. His brother spoke again: <i>"Twas on my way to see Dah in the smithy. Are we to see 'im together?"</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br />
</i> <i>"Nah, go'n'head, 'twas planning on seein' Mum first, and then the rest o' the clan once we've 'ad a meal, unloaded our gear, and may'aps 'ave 'ad a bit o' wash."</i> replied Ajax. </span><br />
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</i> <i>"Understandable given the rigours o' travel. I'll inform Dah of yer return nonetheless. We shall talk further o'er suppeh tonight!"</i> spoke his brother before clapping him on his shoulder and continuing on his way.</span><br />
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Once out of earshot of his sibling, Ajax turned to me: <i>"Sorry I didn't introduce ya proper like there. That 'twas Adoras, my eldest brotheh. Don' take the 'ol squire comment personally, 'e dinne mean it as an insult. E's sometimes a bit o' bastard that one, and as commanda o' </i><i>Shale Glacier's garrison, 'e wants things to be proper like. I'll set 'im straight about friendship at suppeh, aight?"</i></span><br />
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Even though I replied to Ajax that the comment was nothing to be concerned about and we continued on are way through the passageways, a small part of me did wonder if that was the actual reason why he brought me along on his expedition, even just make a showing to his family. I decided that although at times boastful, even Ajax wouldn't be that underhanded with a friend. Would he?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Eventually, after passing by several other individuals whom appeared and acted as household retainers as we wound our way through the keep, we entered into a large cookery. The scent of various different foods roasting, baking, frying, and boiling made me realize the last time I had eaten a full cooked meal (about a week ago in Bone Cove) and the queasy feeling in my stomach from the soaring ascent up the mountain was quickly replaced with that of hunger.</span><br />
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Several people moved to and fro with tasks, but one aged human woman, dressed in an emerald gown trimmed with golden icovellavna, stood out amongst them: she was full-figured with a trellis of radiant hair cascading down her back in braidwork. When her soft face fell upon my companion, her smile lit up the room, and with grace she seemed to glide over to Ajax, hold him in a tight embrace, and plant a kiss upon each of his cheeks. It still amuses me now to have seen my companion, a man who until that moment seemed to be entirely without shame, blush. </span><br />
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Following a brief reception between mother and son, when prompted, Ajax formally introduced me to Lady Iolanthe Lambeatorix, whose kindly welcome to Greyward Keep honoured me deeply. It has been a long time since I experienced such hospitality, not since I made that fateful voyage from my homeland over a year ago; I had to mask my feelings as the thought reminded me of what I had lost.</span><br />
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When Ajax began to casually pick at the available fare as the two Greywards spoke of familial matters, she slapped his hand away and began to usher us from the cookery, claiming that food would be sent up to our rooms but only enough to sate our hunger until the feast that evening.</span><br />
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We quickly ascended to our respective quarters, and once having dressed out of our bedraggled travelling gear and washed in the basins provided, food and drink was provided and our worn clothes taken to be mended and laundered. Over our shared meal I came to the realization that I had no wear formal enough for the feast tonight and shared this concern with Ajax, who assuaged me by saying not to worry about it and something of his own shall be provided. Once my belly was full of warm food and ale, I could not but help to allow myself to drift off into slumber.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Several hours later following a rather peaceful sleep, I awoke to hear a faint rapping against the door of my quarters. I, clad only in my drawers, opened it expecting to see Ajax but instead I was met by a comely chambermaid with reddish-blonde hair who was presenting me with a wardrobe in the style of the Greyward house. She stuttered in embarrassment, and realizing my boorish indiscretion I quickly took the outfit from her and shut the door, all the while alternating between expressing thankfulness and apology.</span><br />
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Once I overcame my own humiliation, I dressed in the provided clothes, which were a little broad on me. And as I was combing the tangles out of my hair another knock came at my door: this time it was Ajax, who inquired if I slept well; I told him I did and thanked him again for the clothes without mentioning the incident that occurred whilst acquiring them, to which he only grinned in response.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> I followed him down to the great hall where the tables were set in preparation for the evening repast. Whilst I was searching for a seat proper for a guest at one of the lower tables, Ajax bade me to sit beside him at the end at the high table; as I began to protest Lady Lambeatorix arrived with several other members of the household and said that that particular spot had been set aside for myself, so I absolutely had to sit there. Embarrassed with honour, I took my place beside Ajax. </span><br />
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Across from me sat the youngest Greyward son (Ajax's little brother), Aleks, a long-haired youth who from conversation I learned was a churchman in the service of Cheeba. When he heard from his elder brother that I was also a man of some conviction, he was eager to question me about my beliefs and the <i>Æsir</i>, but I tried politely to steer such talk to other things; I did not feel it was polite to discuss matters of faith over supper, particularly when one is a guest.</span><br />
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The rest of the family took their places at the high table: beside Ajax sat the Duke Agarin Greyward, Lord of Greyward Keep and leader of Shale Glacier; a well-born dwarf with deep auburn hair that was greying at his temples, an impressive beard braided into intricate knots and adorned with coppery-gold beads, and keen, sparkling eyes. Beside him sat his eldest son, Adoras, and the seat next to him was vacant (as I later came to learn it was for the absent son, Armenius, who was a foreign emissary).</span><br />
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On the opposite side of the table adjacent to Aleks, sat (much to our mutual embarrassment) the youngest Greyward sister, Nerys, the young woman I had mistaken to my further shame earlier for a chambermaid. Beside her was Lady Lambeatorix, and next to her was the elder daughter Bronwyn, who much resembled her mother in features apart from having her fathers eyes. She sat with her betrothed, a strapping young dwarf with a large reddish beard named Dunlevy.</span><br />
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Before the feast began, Lord Greyward rose in his seat and made a short speech to all present, primarily speaking of the return of Ajax to their familial home and welcoming me to Shale Glacier; cups were raised in our honour and the meal began: First was a leek stew ladled into the provided hollow rounds of rye bread, and then the main course consisted of a delicious braised stag with roasted potatoes and turnips; all served with generous amounts of heather ale.</span><br />
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Since then, as I mentioned at the beginning of this entry, we have spent a fortnight at Ajax's familial estate, partaking in many meals of rivalling in quality to the one I experienced on my first day as a guest of the Greywards' hospitality. Aside from occasional breaks outside the Keep, things have been otherwise uneventful; I do not mean to imply disrespect, far from it, for I do enjoy the Greyward's company and generosity, but to be honest, I am unused to such a genial atmosphere. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I find myself spending time my alone when possible: thinking, praying, reading, or rune casting; Aleks gifted me a book of futhark runes apparently written in these lands long ago; intriguing, but I believe the interpretations within have been somewhat heavily coloured by local beliefs. Still provides interesting insight into other faiths, as well as something to ruminate over as I ponder the connection between the futhark and the divine.</span><br />
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I have even working on my own embroidery project that Nerys began teaching me once she overcame her bashfulness; she leaves me alone the least out of everyone here. I suspect she is quite fond of me, and it is oft mentioned that she is unwed, but to my dismay I cannot return her affections; she is a fine, young woman and I'm sure she would make a wonderful and loyal wife, though not for me. I am conflicted and unsure about my own feelings, but I know they are not for her.</span><br />
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On a similar topic, I have been gently pressed from Lady Lambeatorix, as the 'best' friend of Ajax, why he has yet to settle down and find a good wife of his own; they have heard him talk in passing several times about a woman named Erin. I myself recall meeting her once when she briefly apprenticed to Ajax during her time spent on Arrakis and at Dagger Deep, along with her tiny dragon 'pet' Dennis. As I have gathered from when Ajax pines (sometimes vulgarly, but always fondly ) for her above all the women he has been with, that he greatly desires to see her again; but apparently she has returned to her distant nation of Averland, far far away to the south and west.</span><br />
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For good reasons I choose to appear unfit when pressed to find him a suitable match; I wish not to interfere with the affections of my friend nor cause any heartbreak in the pursuit of this request.</span><br />
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All this aside, I believe I can speak for Ajax as well as myself that we are feeling restless to continue on with our other purpose for journeying thus far; we have spoken about in private, and our current plans are laid out thus: we aim to remain in Shale Glacier until after winter solstice and the Yuletide festival, then we shall take our leave for the northlands. Initially our plan when we arrived in Shale Glacier was to sail up the Lilloo River to Cayoush Lake but in weeks since then, it has become much colder and the surface of the waterway has frozen over; now we search for other means.</span><br />
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Proceeding by foot would take far too long and have a greater risk of exposure to the elements (or worse dangers). When we get the chance, Ajax and I plan on heading down into the town in an attempt to discover another way we can make the perilous journey without waiting until a thaw; I have a couple potential solutions in mind, but they depend if the <i>Fates</i> deem them viable.</span><br />
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<h4>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></b></h4>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson<br /></span></i></div>
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<i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To Be Continued...</span></i></h3>
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Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-46338236576406210502016-01-09T17:00:00.000-08:002016-01-16T15:44:36.442-08:00Kampi's Saga: The Northern Hunt - Part I<span style="font-family: inherit;">Salutations all! I hope that you enjoyed your excellent holiday season and new year as much as I did my own; a great time was spent with family and friends. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">During this off season from <b><i>Medieval Chaos</i></b>, I've been co-compiling a tale for <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank"><b>Kampi's Saga</b></a> detailing what he's been up to over the winter months; I say co-compiling as this story is shared with the character <a href="http://www.medievalchaos.ca/members/ajax/" target="_blank">Ajax Lambeatorix Greyward</a>; the creation/portrayal by my good friend <a href="http://marcusquintustitus.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">Ash</a>. We've both been discussing this collaborative effort on and off throughout the season, though it has been difficult to find the time to actually form the ideas into text. I aim to have this Saga arc finished in it's entirety and posted before the next off-season <b><i>MC</i></b> mission Kampi and Ajax are to attend: the Imbolc Ball next month.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The astute of you may have noticed I've changed the </span>entry's<span style="font-family: inherit;"> name from Edda to Saga; the former originally made sense to me as I somewhat believed these entries would mirror how the historical <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prose_Edda" target="_blank">Prose Edda</a> was a collection of stories, but now that I've had over a year developing them they seemed more personal tales narrated from Kampi's perspective; he doesn't tend to relate </span><b style="font-family: inherit;"><i>MC</i></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> events he's not apart of in some tangible way. Plus I believed there would be more out-of-character/non-character centric entries. So I changed it to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saga" target="_blank">Saga</a>, which I feel is more fitting.</span><br />
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Aside from trying to write out these entries, I've also been devoting spare time in updating Kampi's kit appropriately in preparation for his return abroad at the forthcoming ball. And although I made my decision to retitle the entries before I began listening to them, during my crafting time or when I have an ear free, I've going through the episodes of <a href="https://sagathingpodcast.wordpress.com/" style="font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Saga Thing</a>, a podcast about </span>the Sagas of Icelanders<span style="font-family: inherit;">. I've always wanted to read them in full, but to be honest I already have so many hobbies, let alone books I want to read. The excellent hosts on </span><b style="font-family: inherit;">Saga Thing</b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> at least allow me to get the basic gist of each saga when I'm otherwise occupied. The Sagas themselves reaffirm my choice that the renaming was fitting.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie_3XRlSD80E_9IDiH6cVqyisVdc7p71r75EuLuqfcKiF0uEyP0MixiP8DBwzncgbFO-Y2I5hVsrBewctk3Qe1s4fBhil6qBvIbGXiX8PyqOutnSpW8gvvdEvYBqWCZAYAMYa_7ekT-fE/s1600/Fiasco_bloodsaga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie_3XRlSD80E_9IDiH6cVqyisVdc7p71r75EuLuqfcKiF0uEyP0MixiP8DBwzncgbFO-Y2I5hVsrBewctk3Qe1s4fBhil6qBvIbGXiX8PyqOutnSpW8gvvdEvYBqWCZAYAMYa_7ekT-fE/s200/Fiasco_bloodsaga.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've also been playing a lot of </span><b style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Fiasco</i></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> lately (perhaps a future post about that) and listening and learning more about the Icelandic Sagas makes me really want to try the </span><b style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.fiascoplaysets.com/#bloodsaga" target="_blank">Blood Saga</a></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> playset; but I feel that might require all participating to have passing familiarity with the concepts of family feuds, blood duels, law and honour, Icelandic society, and all the rest of it</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">. But that just might based off of my own expectations.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
Also I kinda wanted to live RP some of the more interesting scenes in this tale Ash and I are creating, but it doesn't seem will have the means or opportunity to do so. This time...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
Anyway, onto the Saga itself: For a bit of context, the entries that follow began about a week following Darkest Day, the last mission of the 5315 (2015 RL) season at <i><b>MC</b></i>, which occurred on the 7th of November RL. The narrative will mostly consist of somewhat sporadic journal entries with no specific dates aside from the starting one; thus everything that follows occurs in sequence until just before the 5316 Imbolc Ball.</span><br />
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Credit again to my buddy Ash for his creative input. </span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Without further ado, we present to you: </span><br />
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<i><u style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Northern Hunt</span></u></i></h2>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This map has been provided for those to track the journey. Click for larger size.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>The Second D</b><b>ay of Frigga</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Month of Slaughter</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Local Year 5315</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u><br />
</u><u>Runes:</u> Nauthiz</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Nidthogg</i>, the malice-striker.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Literal Meanings:</u> Need</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Necessary Hardship</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Endurance, Determination, Perseverance</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Constraint, Deprivation, Failure</span></li>
</ul>
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<div>
<hr />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
The following dawn, we set sail from Helm's Deep, across the Malkavian Sea to the eastern port of Bone Cove.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
At least that was the initial idea I suggested when the knight-errant Ajax Grayward and myself discussed the prospect at our secluded camp almost a week prior, during what is referred to a Darkest Day (named so because the date tends to mark a notable decrease from the daylight hours); a series of mock battles are also traditionally held on that day between residents of Dagger Deep, divided between two sides.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
King Willumarius had decree some time before the event, that the final victorious commander of the series of battles said to occur through the dark hours of the night, would then be named the Steward of Dagger Deep, and be charged with the safekeeping of the town during wartime and would have considerable authority when the King is absent (though to what degree still remains to be seen). The two generals selected for the task of leading either force was the Rex Lucius of Hrogn, and Kendrid, Field Commander of the Butcher's Bill.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Participating factions and their members were assigned to a side, with some opting to split their forces between the two. The closest group I consider myself a member of was the Watch, and those present were mostly assigned to the side of Lucius' command, so I initially joined with them. After a brief discussion of strategy and tactics, we scattered to our own business before the first battle at the eighth hour.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Until then, Ajax, my mentor Relan, the mage Serenity, and myself, spent our time at our joint camp; the warm fire Ajax produced pushed back the chill air and as we cooked and shared our evening fare, we talked about many things. Being mostly free from the various concerns each of us had, we were able to learn things about each other that the drives of life kept us from learning; many were humorous, some personal, most insightful in a form.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
After I participated in the first field skirmish, whom Kendrid's force won, the remainder of the night I escorted Relan about when he came to neutrally arbitrate the remainder of the event. Kendrid's team thoroughly won a decisive victory twice more; successfully laying siege to Fort Rowanoak defended by Luscius' team, and once more during a pitch battle in Ork's Field; thus being awarded the title of Steward of Dagger Deep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
It will be interesting what changes this may further bring about to the already existing muster of authority in the township, though I shan't witness such until I return from this journey north-east with Ajax. If I am to return at all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I suppose I should write a little background on this prospect: A month or so ago, when Ajax and myself were becoming acquainted with one another and he was doing his usual boasting about the magical beasts he had felled for glory and profit, he mentioned his intent to travel the mainland during the cold season to a supposed ruin in the northern region of the Dragon Peaks, wherein supposedly dwells a monstrous</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> being that has been preying upon local settlements. They call this creature the '<i>wendigo</i>'.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I personally question the hearsay that has come to the braggart's ears and his motivations for desiring to take upon such a perilous journey for little personal gain it may give (he has claimed that he knows of some individuals that would pay good coin for reagents and components of a 'wendigo'; whether this is true or just wishful thinking on his part is another doubt); once more is his offer to have me join him on this 'hunt'.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
He knows of my life pursuits and how they are both related to practice of my martial skill and my devout nature to the <i>Æsir</i>; he asked me if I had any experience hunting and I replied that I hunted game in my youth, to which he scoffed. He replied he meant against great magical beasts, where prowess in one's fighting is of greater import than skilfully managing the wilds and hunting prey (though I am sure his time as a woodsman has given honed those skills, even if his current gear doesn't support that as much any more).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Ajax, unabashedly, did admit that his lore of the nature of the 'wendigo' was limited; he claims that it somewhere between a man and giant in size and form, it is more a predator than a scavenger, and that it prefers intelligent prey. He was also willing to admit his concern that this 'wendigo' might have be a form of undead creature or malicious spirit and that his expertise with such beings is limited.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
For reasons I do not entirely understand, I have taken the bold warrior up on his offer. Again, I feel an inexplicable call to journey northward, perhaps in search of any connection to my homeland, perhaps in search solely of myself.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTLReyXKUOwMaKOpTZGN3LsfSqCZFe8j14LZ9N2_nKZ8Cl5X3Z6BxBMs7uPaEVKhiu2iy8C6TmH6sezzsMGantnJWN8A2d5u-YxUjx0ayYBjCGdHciicAOeUpS2qXm9BZmQWuX3gRoyI/s1600/the+northern+hunt1_painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTLReyXKUOwMaKOpTZGN3LsfSqCZFe8j14LZ9N2_nKZ8Cl5X3Z6BxBMs7uPaEVKhiu2iy8C6TmH6sezzsMGantnJWN8A2d5u-YxUjx0ayYBjCGdHciicAOeUpS2qXm9BZmQWuX3gRoyI/s400/the+northern+hunt1_painting.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
After several proposed routes, many of which were dismissed as they would bring us through the tumultuous political states of Ankh, Ter'Solma, or Sylvania, the preparations we decided upon whilst around our campfire are laid out thus:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">First, we are to voyage north-east from Helm's Deep to the mainland, to a place known as Bone Cove. From there, we aim to acquire a small river-worthy craft and proceed up Lilloo River; if securing a vessel fails, we'll follow the foot path to Goldtown. Using either method way plan on arriving at Ajax's family home, an estate that overlooks Shale Glacier, a predominately dwarven and human mining community based upon the shores of Loch Moraine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After time spent with with Ajax's family we are to resume our quest and follow the river north where it flows from another lake: Cayoush Lake. From there we strike east to our destination: the abandoned ruins outside of a tiny settlement called Amsel, where supposedly this creature dwells.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Though rapidly approaching winter, I surmise </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lilloo </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">River would be at its lowest and stillest, which may make passage somewhat less difficult, and when/where it begins to freeze it may make it easier to portage the vessel or proceed on foot, though the winter season presents many other dangerous risks and challenges.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Ajax has booked us passage upon a ship making a merchant voyage to Bone Cove; hopefully his silver tongue worked to our benefit, though a small part of me is concerned that shrewd barter may have took advantage of his somewhat simple nature.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Now, to sleep. A long journey begins on the morrow.</span><br />
<br />
<hr />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
After a clear and uneventful crossing over the Malkavian Sea, Ajax and I arrived in Bone Cove, a modest trading port. Sailing is something that always makes my spirit soar, despite the cold weather. Here we begin our preparations for the journey ahead: a river transport that is able to make the attempted trip and supplies to be carried therein.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTVT-TqJDyHz6Fho2L03IhoTiP64CVIkcMy2ba1aeG7v2cddRv8i4qjVbEz4VS_R5EkxKvfasw9GwePzBykexsk4xlu-UHtTkngZptctRAMukxMaxtNzsrbPdKUjm1j2O3KlfZywUzsTg/s1600/carrack_painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTVT-TqJDyHz6Fho2L03IhoTiP64CVIkcMy2ba1aeG7v2cddRv8i4qjVbEz4VS_R5EkxKvfasw9GwePzBykexsk4xlu-UHtTkngZptctRAMukxMaxtNzsrbPdKUjm1j2O3KlfZywUzsTg/s400/carrack_painting.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">During the brief time spent in Helm's Deep before our voyage, I best tried to acquaint myself with the locales of the hinterlands we are to travel through, and after making several inquiries I was directed to a lore repository and within a series of scripted volumes called </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"</i><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A Pilgrim's Guide to Arrakis",</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> detailing numerous regions and their associated points of interest. I took the time to copy several of the entries on the chance that they may prove useful.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-An excerpt from “<i>A Pilgrim's Guide to Arrakis</i>"</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>“...and just one day's walk to the West is a settlement that connects the South flowing river to the Malkavian sea. According to the town's dockyard rumours, Bone Cove got its name from the enormous ribs that once marked the boundary of the village. Once a carcass of some thrice-cursed sea leviathan that perished on land – or was washed ashore by waves of such mammoth quality. The sailors say that the bones, which have long since been overcome by the progress of civilizing the landscape and the bone boundaries have vanished into the foundations of many a tavern and tenement or carved away to re-purpose as building timbers.</i> <i>Bone Cove is now a bustling town full of taverns and general stores, all fed by the merchants who see the sea-ship cargo unloaded for shuttling upriver into the mountainous North.</i> </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Homes are nary more than a story, but the inns dot the town in greater number than any house. The Pilgrim's Guide to Arrakis suggests pilgrims avoid the taverns and inns by the hillock and instead stick to the waterfront where the bustle is constant and the merchants are animated with story and willing with tithe. Be warned also to keep your wits about you when dealing with the barge sellers, as the wrong passage can land a careless pilgrim in the frontier without their purse or a sword on their belt! Carrying on, as the pilgrim follows the coast South, the land becomes ...”</span></i></blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwt14s9gj4jgL92hLVjFQamNVrjOOdyFX_qtGT9Nn7gLqf2k7WK7uyABckBzhqSUNEQRI3Xp1hUy4UmKmriXvIT-KnhYOfziAZj5SILXxo_VlII7FJOeajtufcCErVUoIBwo1ijBwl9hI/s1600/Bone+Cove_painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwt14s9gj4jgL92hLVjFQamNVrjOOdyFX_qtGT9Nn7gLqf2k7WK7uyABckBzhqSUNEQRI3Xp1hUy4UmKmriXvIT-KnhYOfziAZj5SILXxo_VlII7FJOeajtufcCErVUoIBwo1ijBwl9hI/s400/Bone+Cove_painting.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bone Cove as it probably looked in the distant past.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The great towering ribs that give Bone Cove its namesake are indeed presently gone, as civilization reforged the land in and around it. Tis' a shame, for they do sound wondrous to have beheld. Hopefully the mention about shuttling cargo, it would increase our chance to obtain passage via the river. I also aim to be scrupulous in our negations with any we deal with; Ajax can do the talking and I'll watch and listen closely.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">During the crossing Ajax and I were rather amicable for the first half of the voyage, but we soon encountered our first obstacle: differing opinions. Personally, I fell it would be perhaps prudent to take on some aides in our journey to benefiting from their experience and familiarity with the surrounding lands and to share the rigours of this undertaking. Unfortunately Ajax doesn't seem to agree with me; he's quick to brush off the suggestion boasting that as a 'master' woodsman we do not need any assistance and can provide all the help needed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I do not want to seem I'm questioning Ajax's skill in woodcraft (which is somewhat considerable from what I've seen) nor imply any lack of familiarity with the lay of the land (he was born and raised in the region), I believe that the risks of this undertaking could be lessened with the addition of travelling companions to share the duties and burdens of the journey, at least when we set out from Shale Glacier.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvkoI_dwlQg8LgG0HJ4GeoNAHjQQPDGMt5HtZ8UlVvR_zAQJsBuCeq3hfBqwXwirQRdoZFzlzA0cU96YrpWU8EqRaNkk_zsrfKjAPz9eEmvwJ1i5PLkrYDSRvwrlUJPyp_53hPbCwcrY/s1600/bone+cove_watercolour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvkoI_dwlQg8LgG0HJ4GeoNAHjQQPDGMt5HtZ8UlVvR_zAQJsBuCeq3hfBqwXwirQRdoZFzlzA0cU96YrpWU8EqRaNkk_zsrfKjAPz9eEmvwJ1i5PLkrYDSRvwrlUJPyp_53hPbCwcrY/s400/bone+cove_watercolour.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Even after suggesting he should think upon it but wait to make a decision until after we've made it to his home town and seen his family, I get the feeling that he has already made to choice and will stick to it. I perhaps rightly wonder if he would've asked me on this journey if he didn't believe he needed me given his penchant for self-reliance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
We arrived in port as the hour grew late and we partook in a decent hot meal of roasted fish and strong drink in one of the dockside taverns called the '<i>Pike & Marrow</i>', before we turned in for the evening at the adjacent inn, the '<i>Half-Moon</i>'.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Tomorrow, we figure out how best we are able to travel upriver towards Loch Moraine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It is has been a several nights since we departed Bone Cove by means of the </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lilloo</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">River ; Ajax and I have been travelling by barge with a small seemingly friendly group of river traders. They were the only group that was intending to sail upriver this season, so we bartered passage with them as additional labourers. Our duties were simple: we assisted plying the craft as it sails upstream; a few times we've had to tow the barge with ropes from the riverbank when the wind was unfavourable or a caution was needed negotiating a difficult stretch of watercourse. We are expected to defend the barge if assailed as well, which hasn't occurred yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We have reached a riverside trading post that acts as a connection route to Gold Town, where we took on and offloaded a couple goods, and I have taken the opportunity to make this journal entry. It seems the goods these merchants ferry and deal in are mostly foodstuffs and a few luxury items from the coast, and raw, mineral goods and furs from the hinterland settlements. Their intended terminus for this journey is to be Shale Glacier, which is fortunate for us; its also been expressed that this is to most likely to be their final trip until the thaw. The river itself has been clear of ice so far, but the further we travel inland the colder it becomes; snow and rime begin to blanket the land.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">During our voyage, Ajax had ample opportunity vaunt, having a 'captive' audience; when the topic came to his kin, as some of the traders recognised the heraldry he bore on his apple and bisque vestments. He regaled, with much pride in his voice, the lineage of the Greyward house:</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The clan itself is apparently one of, if not, the chief noble families established in Shale Glacier; maintaining office and management over the town's welfare and interests, mostly that of mining and smithing. Ajax's father, the dwarf Agarin Greyward is titled Duke of the region and reigns over Shale Glacier from their family keep, build into the side of a craggy mountain. There he lives with his wife, Iolanthe (pronounced: 'Yo-lan-thee') Lambeatorix, a human woman once belonging to a lower class family, and the rest of the household: three brothers apart from Ajax, and two sisters, plus their servants.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I must admit I became anxious after Ajax relayed his great familial connections and the mood of our fellow travellers shifted ever so slightly. Though they seem decent folk, I could not help but feel that if cunning and shrewd, they'd take advantage of this knowledge and our journey would become more costly before we reached our destination. Or worse.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hopefully, those are just ungrounded fears preying upon me; provided nothing untoward occurs, we should reach Shale Glacier in a few days.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<h4>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></b></h4>
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<div style="text-align: right;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</span></i></div>
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<hr />
<br />
<h3>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: normal;">To Be Continued...</i></span></h3>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-34849596839815681252015-11-22T15:59:00.001-08:002016-01-15T17:23:35.853-08:00Kampi's Saga - Lh'qelts & SamhainBoo! It's another instalment of <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank"><b>Kampi's Saga!</b></a> As a bonus treat for this past much belated-Hallowe'en and that your costumes were oh so scary, it's a pair of some of the final events combined into a single post! Huzzah!<br />
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Actually it's mostly because Kampi himself only made relatively short appearances in Dagger Deep both days; I myself spent the majority of time as other characters, so it seemed logical to try and compress the two entries. At least they give me an excuse to do a minor image dump and stretch out the IC details. Enjoy!<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The fourth D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of Wodin </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of Wine</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315 </span></b><br />
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</span></b><br />
<u style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">Runes:</u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Wunjo </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Valfreyja</i>, the Lady of the Slain</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meanings:</u> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Joy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Comfort</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Affection, Ecstasy, Harmony</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Desire, Loneliness, Sorrow</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The morning of this day was most uneventful; at least it was when I was present in town for my Watch shift. Being the only member present early day, I made the rounds; the town was sparsely populated. Though I should've been thankful for the quiet, I couldn't help but feel a sense of boredom: I suppose I'm used to something always occurring in this town; was it wrong for me to have thought such a thing? It makes me sound like a one of the many recent arrivals, searching for adventure and glory, desiring coin and fame.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Speaking of newcomers, Prince Corbin waved me over to introduce me to a young woman named Levi, who was vaguely interested in joining the Watch. As I showed her about the town and detailed to her the duties of the Watch, I inquired to her reasoning to coming to such a benighted place: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her taciturn answers led me to presume she came here solely for the reasons I expressed above. I would be lying if I was hoping her interest in the Watch seemed more than the pursuit of steady income, though I cannot fault her for that: everyone has to eat, and being a member of the Watch, though at times tedious, frustrating, or downright dangerous, is at least one of the few legitimate ways to earn one's keep in this frontier. She did comment on my supposed trustworthiness, though I am unsure if that was meant as a compliment or slight, now that I think back upon it. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We soon parted ways, and I later found she made some coin working as a body guard for Corbin. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I briefly talked with Sheriff Ayla, whom, along with her fellow follower of Lanthar, the dwarf Burrd, were the only members of the Watch present that day. During our talk, I happened to see a lady searching vainly in distress; I inquired if she had a concern and she told me of a man desperately calling from the church of Cheeba for the mage Erasmus. I bid her to lead me to him and she did; there, lying on his back within a drawn magical circle framed by the sunlight pouring through the round window inlaid with the five-pointed star of their deity, was the paladin known as Jackal.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I inquired to his state of duress he told me that Shar (apparently some sort of malicious goddess?) had bewitched his right arm, and he had hoped that by the blessed light of his goddess Cheeba, it would be driven from his body. Unfortunately the ritual served only to aggravate the possessed limb, causing to act beyond it's owners' will. Jackal beseeched us to find the fellow Cheebite Erasmus.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitfTrsTEMnDyt7MX8mIcnzY3eNP3QmO79mjXx7Zh0MG9j93T95O1qmIbh0pQ72SZGKH21tU-u9ySWSbFmbEUp3p_sF29nT5i7f1T46b_iWBB80sn3cLEOFJ9zR_n0xzemLQD7DmQxnQwU/s1600/Nash%252C+Garguth%252C+Heinrich%252C+%2526+Sunset_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitfTrsTEMnDyt7MX8mIcnzY3eNP3QmO79mjXx7Zh0MG9j93T95O1qmIbh0pQ72SZGKH21tU-u9ySWSbFmbEUp3p_sF29nT5i7f1T46b_iWBB80sn3cLEOFJ9zR_n0xzemLQD7DmQxnQwU/s400/Nash%252C+Garguth%252C+Heinrich%252C+%2526+Sunset_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The druid Nash, newcomers Garguth and Heinrich Hammerfell, and Sunset.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The young lady I and scoured town, searching and inquiring about the mage's whereabouts. Upon entering into the tavern, the elven cleric Sunset made to introduce me to a pair of men I did not recognize, but I had to unfortunately interrupt her for my current task was of greater import. We learned that supposedly Eramus left town some time ago, we returned to Jackal with the unfortunate news. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Since his friend could not be found, he bid drag him out of the circle which he was bound; we did so, though I was wary of any untoward actions on the paladin's behalf. But he seemed fine beyond his understandable vexation as we escorted him back to town. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Soon after we parted ways I ran into the very person we were searching for, Erasmus, and quickly </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">led him to Jackal; I left the two Cheebites to their business so I could return to my own.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Soon afterwards I once again encountered Sunset and after apologizing for my curtness earlier I was able to devote my undivided attention to her; she resumed to introduce one of the individuals that was present with her in the tavern; an old 'friend': he was a stern-looking man dressed mostly in black with matching cape done in violet trim. He bore a thin, sharp moustache upon his unsmiling face and a thrice-cornered hat upon his head; a worn flanged mace hung from his belt. He introduced himself as Heinrich Hammerfell, an old acquaintance of Sunset's and a hunter of witches from their shared land.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He inquired intently to my profession and upon hearing my answer made a disparaging comment that this town appeared to be filled with naught but "herbalists" and "layfolk". He began to go on at length, much to her chagrin, about some of their past history together, namely a song sung in her 'honour'. Though I did not enjoy how he did not to give Sunset the chance to speak most of the time, guiltily I must admit I did enjoy furthering her embarrassment by requesting the song transcribed into my own handbook:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>'Sunset Steelwolf, going on adventures in Galerion.<br />
There's owlbears & direwolves, & even a troll;<br />
Through good times and bad times, OH she'll be there for you!<br />
Because she's Sunset Steelwolf, </i><i>going on adventures in Galerion!'</i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>(This final line was to be repeated twice, with emphasis on the end)</i></span></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As Heinrich was scribing this down, the misanthrope Balthier had inserted himself into the conversation and after the two men argued the semantics of equestrianism, Balthier casually announced how he grew tired of their dialogue and as he took his leave how intended to relieve his boredom with murder. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Balthier might have been intentionally seeking my ire with those words, but I wasn't about to leave it to chance; I followed him into nearby Fort Rowanoak, heedless of Sunsets words of concern or the fact that Heinrich still had my book.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once I stepped boldly as I could manage through the gateway, I saw Balthier talking with the Mitrite Ariha and a princess of Ter'Solma commonly known as Sparrow. I had heard this Sparrow had made it known in the past that Balthier had slain her several times without provocation and I saw that his coming here could bare similar intent. An awkward</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> tension filled the air; Balthier flat out mocked me saying that I was here to 'be a guard'; I tried to brush aside his derision by claiming I only wished to speak with Ariha.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I then tried to engage the late Marcus' former apprentice, inquiring of her well-being; her reply was stilted. It was painfully obvious our dialogue was forced, but that was little import to me, I hoped that my unexpected presence would keep Balthier from any action, or at least reconsidering any. Fortunately Sunset and Heinrich entered the fortification a few uneasy heartbeats and the situation was defused; as we all collectively left Rowanoak and went our separate ways, just after Heinrich returned my book, Balthier commented to me that he'd willing be taken to gaol, but only provided he was politely requested to do so.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I suspect this was more mockery on his part; faint rumour has spread that the supposed lasting death attempt on him months ago, allegedly by the previous Captain of the Watch, Wolfgang Krieger, (which led to him being stripped of his position), was all just a ploy by the now ex-sheriff, Balthier. Even if no longer of that position, I believe Balthier <strike>could</strike> would undoubtedly wield his wide influence against me if I incarcerated him without 'valid' reason.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the meantime, I'll continue to keep a weather-eye upon him and thwart any harm he can cause, with my very life if need be. Such is duty. The princess Sparrow seemed to care little that another attempt on her life may have been foiled. It's easy to see how many view those in nobility as discourteous and impudent. Again, such is duty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As the day grew on and I was forced to leave </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">the region on personal business outside of Uberland</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, apparently (as it want to occur during my absence) a great multitude of hosts descended upon Dagger Deep; accounts tell of </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">an abyssal force under the command of Yog'So'thoth, along with a </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">barbarian hoard, countless </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">crazed figures,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> an undead scourge, and even disgruntled fairy-folk, all with their own intent.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It seems I'd inadvertently avoided what the fates had prepared for me to relieve my boredom. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise be that the township had endured that combined storm, though I heard the brazen pirate Abbott met his final end that day, having his soul destroyed by the walking <i>krake</i>, Yog'So'Thoth. I have wrote in the past that I didn't particularly like Abbott, though I do not wish to speak ill of him, but he is another reminder that fatality does exist in this relatively deathless land.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The remainder of my evening was spent mostly by my lonesome in the tavern; Levi visited briefly to talk. Then a rampant feastling from the abyssal force began to cause trouble around the sparsely populated streets until Elora captured it with magic and bound in the stocks, where we questioned it; apparently it had grown disfranchised in its lot and longed for freedom, but it still had instincts from mischievous to murderous. We placed it in a magical slumber and locked it within the gaol, where it remained until an odd fellow from the far east awoke it with intent to question it further and it escaped. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I warned the eastern warrior that aiding in the escape of a prisoner from gaol is a minor offence of the law, and in the collective surprise of all present, he sought forgiveness by taking his own head with a single deft swing of his sword. Eventually the remainder of us managed to banish the creature and restored the warrior to life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I decided not to lay charges against him, for his brazen... apology.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></span> <br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The first D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of Thonar</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of Slaughter </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315 </span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr7LXedi3OfXGQAHrNmwdTDaVVT6XIa14v3cQtbT8KWvrQ1Y-ERMloY37JT84yzJD3G-_WsxRQk4QB4sjDc_FQoIn2ucDy54TU2UF38QjKtq1dtUVA3hadC2vNwrKWqjzbLME9QMoyAw8/s1600/Hagalaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr7LXedi3OfXGQAHrNmwdTDaVVT6XIa14v3cQtbT8KWvrQ1Y-ERMloY37JT84yzJD3G-_WsxRQk4QB4sjDc_FQoIn2ucDy54TU2UF38QjKtq1dtUVA3hadC2vNwrKWqjzbLME9QMoyAw8/s1600/Hagalaz_Rune.gif" /></a></div>
<u style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;"><br />
</u> <u style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">Runes:</u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Hagalaz </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Thrymir</i>, sire of the <i>jötnar</i>.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meanings:</u> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hail</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Hardship</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Confrontation, Emotion, Tempering</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Disaster, Frustration, Wrath</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span><br />
<div>
<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a week spent back at Helm's Deep, I returned for the local Samhain tradition (pronunciations varied, but I was told it was as '<i>sah-win</i>'), a revered day somewhat similar to the </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Vetrnætr</i> or the <i>Winter Nights</i> festival</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> of my homeland; it marks the beginning of our winter season (in nordtheim, we only have two seasons: winter and summer), the start of a new year, and it is also the day the <i>All-Father Wodin</i> is believed to embark with his host in a <i>Wild Hunt</i> throughout the nine worlds. Also like <i>V</i></span><i style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">etrnætr</i><span style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">, during Samhain it is believed the borders between</span><span style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;"> the worlds are at there weakest, allowing spirits and creatures to freely roam Midgard. Here, it was a strange day to say the least, for the parts I was present for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Making my usual Watch rounds, I happened upon a man in the tavern, face down on a table and dead to the world; at first I thought him a passed out reveller from the night before, but he was unresponsive to my attempts to rouse him and I found his flesh cold and that noticeable odour became apparent. I notified the barkeep and after she checked his belongings for 'any clues to identity' she asked me to keep my blade easy to draw should he prove violent; she restored him to life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once returned, he seemed grateful to find himself in somewhat friendly surroundings and company, and after inquiring to the date, he told me that the last thing he recalled was being slain by undead over a fortnight past. Somebody must've been kind enough to deposit his corpse in the bar, else it might have been worn away completely by the elements and the tenuous link to his spirit be lost. He sincerely thanked me and we parted ways.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Just as I returned to my concerns, a commotion brought me to the temple district, where an alarming sight befell my eyes: a throng began to gather around the priestess of <i>Ithus</i>, Sprig, who bore great wounds. It was soon ascertained she was unable to speak; I offered my daybook for her to scribe her answers to the questions asked of her as </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Persius began to treat her wounds</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">. I lent my Watch sash as a makeshift bandage.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Despite her harmed and mute form, she assured everyone that she was fine; her state was brought about by the cruel hands for Northbrook, where she was kept prisoner since I last saw her. She, along with a few fellow members of her 'family', the Wild Ones, endured deprivation and torture until several escaped; apparently Northbrook demanded the return or whereabouts of their missing Cardinal, whom we removed during their last engagement with us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was practically beside myself with grief and rage. Though I was relieved beyond measure that Sprig had returned to us, the state the godless monsters of Northbrook left her in was almost too much for me to bare. Sprig's bright personage had always cleared away clouds that oft gathered around my thoughts, but seeing her like that caused a mist of anger cloud my mind; I bit my lip until it bled, caring not the pain it caused.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">During a one-sided conversation with the witchhunter Xander, whom had apparently returned from his long absence at the bottom of a cask, the herbalist Nash brought word that the mage Boz, who was also captive of Northbrook, had placed her under a magical slumber, fully unprovoked. It was quickly presumed that he may still be under the influence of the powers of Northbrook, and Sprig, at our protestations, resolutely set off in pursuit of the rogue caster.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I followed the band as we searched the lengths and breaths of the surround lands; though I had a duty to the Watch and town, I was oathbound to Sprig for all that she has done since we first met just over a year ago. Try as we did, we found no sign of Boz, and once we returned back to the village I bade Sprig to rest, for such activity would surely aggravate her wounds. After some talk it was soon decided that she would return to the Wild Ones' camp under the aid of Brynn. We parted ways and I silently vowed to keep a watchful eye for Boz as I returned to my duties.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uYUi6GS6sjwS70b28kVlUIm8IMst4y3cLJHM_Q9VTa5qi7tmibOdUlrJwCu6aQ2dp_qPcDv4wrlNzzuyDYiZMTXbPJQyn600cq4TBsua-CGBpZS-pZIeew8HZGvDts-um11XIofZSOE/s1600/Map+of+Dagger+Deep1_painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uYUi6GS6sjwS70b28kVlUIm8IMst4y3cLJHM_Q9VTa5qi7tmibOdUlrJwCu6aQ2dp_qPcDv4wrlNzzuyDYiZMTXbPJQyn600cq4TBsua-CGBpZS-pZIeew8HZGvDts-um11XIofZSOE/s400/Map+of+Dagger+Deep1_painting.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During a brief moment during the concern for Sprig, her fellow Ithusian, Hector, <br />
handed to me a parchment map of the township that he had compiled at my request. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sometime following those personal events, things began to become... odd to say the least. First I had to eject two strangely dressed women from the royal court on the grounds they were not nobility. They were looking for a place to have a 'T' party and inquired about a Red Queen (whom I thought they meant Lady Pain, consort to the Red King), but they clarified about an ladyship of hearts or something similar. I told them I knew not to whom they were referring to and set them on their way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Later, as I was in rumination by the crier's post and even stranger dressed man inquired to me: an odd, broad hat was upon his head, from underneath it's brim glittered two devious eyes; he was fully clad in a coat of wan fur that hung to his knees, and in each arm he bore a most unwholsum looking newborn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In a voice that I could help but not liken to a sheet of embroidered silk covering a hidden serpent, he asked if I was eager to see and join in the upcoming festivities. I inquired of what he was talking about, to which he replied that soon many folk in his employ (a <i>'karn-ev-all'</i>) were to arrive in town and delight its inhabitants with amusements, japes, and thrills, all at the behest of King Willumarius. During our discussion the troupe he was describing began to arrive enmass; when I heard and saw that this group contained "controlled" reanimated corpses and skeletons, my mind could not help but leap to the laws related to the accidental/purposeful release of undead in town.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Two members of the Wild Ones, who had the exact same thought, found me; they were charged with the defence of the town outside of it's borders, but it seemed that I was the only guardsman present so I took it upon myself to verify the sly man's claims with the King, who was present; (un)fortunately, their presence was indeed granted by the Red King and thus his word was above the written law. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I had watched them carefully, until a commotion drew me away to the outskirts of town, where a large crowd was being led to three incredible creatures. The being which led us, was in itself, a curious sight: it had a form vaguely of a man, but glowed with a azure light and was featureless aside from a gnomish moustache where it's face would have been. It wore a garish coat and hat that I somehow recognized, along with it's name: Sebille.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I feel I couldn't sufficiently describe those three bizarre creatures</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">if I tried, so instead I shall refer you to a composition I've acquired:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzojJmg9J3gcfBUcXL904nTMEem9JfVXvQj0FXv_LvwsuTS4e0-bcf4x7Jmh6Kn2wrs-E-3iqjXwwSmowSx7ibqwLnrZdXF3IPmJ9eDbfRy_WKvrdKiV6yr2uwGM__WcUwmShi5jF9riU/s1600/spirit_walker_by_kinkosawadahyuga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzojJmg9J3gcfBUcXL904nTMEem9JfVXvQj0FXv_LvwsuTS4e0-bcf4x7Jmh6Kn2wrs-E-3iqjXwwSmowSx7ibqwLnrZdXF3IPmJ9eDbfRy_WKvrdKiV6yr2uwGM__WcUwmShi5jF9riU/s400/spirit_walker_by_kinkosawadahyuga.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://kinkosawadahyuga.deviantart.com/art/Spirit-Walker-345488518" target="_blank">©</a></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though massive in size, towering over us two-legged folk, Sebille proclaimed that they would do no harm to us if we did no harm upon them; their stilted, lumbering gait coupled with their seemingly docile nature leant credence to the blue being's belief. He further said that these creatures may provide the key to discovering the whereabouts of his lost friend, Renshaw, a mage whom I am only familiar with on second-hand account.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">At Sebille's behest, the lot of us escorted the Spirit-Walkers as they were called, along their winding journey through the local lands, which ended up going through the town itself to the mystical circle of wood-henge. It was rather worrisome that either certain residents of Dagger Deep or the visiting troupe might take violent action towards these creatures but if there was the intent, perhaps the size of our protective force combined with calming nature of the beasts ensured such did not occur.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once in wood-henge, with a captive audience surrounding it, Sebille, with the aid of several willing volunteers, enacted some sort of ritual to appeal to the Spirit-Walkers to reveal the whereabouts of Renshaw. Upon reaching it's climax, one of the creatures made a great cry; it's form twisted and shuddered; it seemed that it began to come apart, but where it's forelimb was, a comparatively small man-like arm remained; it's sweeping neck and hunched back gave way to the head and torso of the sought elf-mage, Renshaw.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After the shock and elation had passed, Renshaw related whilst extracting himself further from the form of the Spirit-Walker with the aid of his friends, how he managed to escape his captors by shifting his form and joining this herd of creatures, but by doing so became trapped within the condition. It was only through the fortunate turn of events that transpired he was able to unconsciously make his way back to those who could help him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Not attempting to seem comparable to the ordeals other's have endured as of late, after I had helped see the remaining two Spirit-Walkers safely to the outskirts of the realm, I was overcome with exhaustion from all the events I witnessed that day and chose to retire to my quiet camp.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'm sure others spent the remainder of their Samhain celebrating, through I'm strange events did not cease to occur when I left.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I must prepare myself for the upcoming season; some large decisions lay ahead of me.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></h4>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>~Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
</div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-52055673052468282002015-10-16T17:30:00.000-07:002015-12-10T21:05:30.113-08:00Kampi's Saga - What Was Lost<a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" style="font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Kampi's Saga</a>. Need I say more?<br />
<br />
We're into the final stretch of <i><b>Medieval Chaos'</b></i> season and this mission was probably one of the best I've had this year; Kampi went hard and I was sore for days following so I knew it was good. Kudos to Devon for organizing it!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaZxb2tq7G_Obn_lN0u7Ydj3R8_K79VFCo4nQnYWZ5qMNv6G7fGcev0Vt2N2YrO0GT4qm4PEv9FqF9hge4fnJ_n-u86T2AJa7fIgf7qit6U50Z1mCpseTCD1m2yLTaxxaMcRQtxdg51Q/s1600/Theos_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaZxb2tq7G_Obn_lN0u7Ydj3R8_K79VFCo4nQnYWZ5qMNv6G7fGcev0Vt2N2YrO0GT4qm4PEv9FqF9hge4fnJ_n-u86T2AJa7fIgf7qit6U50Z1mCpseTCD1m2yLTaxxaMcRQtxdg51Q/s640/Theos_drawn.jpg" width="475" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The first D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of the Moon </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of Wine </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315 </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2ViXphzM8L7h7x69SPyTJwabdRheik4tjJLQ_UQz3B4ayhyphenhyphenF9G2B3mSqIwdqCsqCSaaFAF02eZOdD7Jtl_JQtZU7xIhrOS5TkMR8QehjgMGa7EdWNVy6DSREXRe8qy90LcVMwqpDBb4/s1600/Thurisaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03oxAOuNWxfJ3Od1daVArtC_qMLSBTH54_eB0bt-OI2tGDp4q4PekGFQjmsJfQrmTCufHIIVPLA6xRRwc84ssMxTbAT5D2IXJERsXON52jVH8xcbDTJ7wSlJXFPUV27MNAv2Dld-IJQg/s1600/Gebo_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03oxAOuNWxfJ3Od1daVArtC_qMLSBTH54_eB0bt-OI2tGDp4q4PekGFQjmsJfQrmTCufHIIVPLA6xRRwc84ssMxTbAT5D2IXJERsXON52jVH8xcbDTJ7wSlJXFPUV27MNAv2Dld-IJQg/s1600/Gebo_Rune.gif" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Gebo </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Lokki</i>, the Trickster. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gift </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Exchange, Giving, Receiving </span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Aid, Generosity, Sacrifice </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Burden, Debt, Obligation</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This past seventh day, the dire armies of Northbrook returned with a vengeance, and only through our combined effort did we manage to defeat them. It was only by a timely warning were we able to attempt to bulwark the town and gather our forces before</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> we clashed.</span></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The hours before the indication of this looming threat were calm, as they often are before adversity. Some days prior, I received a message from an old friend requesting aid and I felt obliged to help; they begged me to keep the reasons for their request secret, so I have refrained from mentioning them by name in my journal on the slight chance it falls into undesired hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Whilst I prepared what was asked of me, nearby in the holy grounds of Ithus, Relan (whom had recently been appointed Regent by proclamation of King Willumarius, much to the bishop's chagrin) was discussing things with a new arrival: Brother Hector; he was a pilgrim of sorts from a far off abbey that worshiped Ithus. I had no idea that Relan's faith stretched that far beyond Arrakis.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCoO_HL2NTYnEzAdcC0nSH_PtZuAj_sCyOd4ldu7PV-GyV50M2RAWCEpHaBAKrwfmlKAYQi8SpUnUPigB_1j0wx7oToK4EUmA0yyHSnmXrvxIN9xGLlNgnSIOWbGiu7sdL3_TqT___OQ/s1600/Ayla+%2526+Hector_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCoO_HL2NTYnEzAdcC0nSH_PtZuAj_sCyOd4ldu7PV-GyV50M2RAWCEpHaBAKrwfmlKAYQi8SpUnUPigB_1j0wx7oToK4EUmA0yyHSnmXrvxIN9xGLlNgnSIOWbGiu7sdL3_TqT___OQ/s400/Ayla+%2526+Hector_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brother Hector and Ayla sparring with an neophyte.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hector appeared to be an honourable man; quite vehement in his faith to Ithus, though it seemed that he and Relan differed on certain thoughts concerning the nature of their beliefs. Nevertheless, it was welcome to have another friend belonging to the saffron-hued church and another fervent warrior to stand shoulder to shoulder with in battle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After handing over the requested preparations and sharing a few sparse words, I began my Watch duties. After personally making the effort of recording the listed laws into my journal for convenient reference, Captain Milo had me retrieve the javelins left in the moat outside Fort Rowanoak and restock the ballistae. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I must say I did not enjoy trudging through the swampy moat but I turned down the offer given that Milo could send the <i>jötnar</i> to assist me; they mean well but somehow I believed their feebleminds would only serve to further vex the task. Regardless, this was a job that had to be done, especially since this folk of this town are too focused upon their own to give a thought to upkeep or defence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0n_9bd-yRS6IyAvwqGjMUinjMueBwF1csHRJ4Ycktk_Bhnk1Lr8dUvLaDXYWDoVdi98AFkZ814WcEGIT1THlN6zhQpc6j8D64UHJnisSaWUCVfeD1sowVzkFx1GPh2_gIVs-nvU5rEyY/s1600/Abbott+%2526+Theo+with+Prisoner1_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0n_9bd-yRS6IyAvwqGjMUinjMueBwF1csHRJ4Ycktk_Bhnk1Lr8dUvLaDXYWDoVdi98AFkZ814WcEGIT1THlN6zhQpc6j8D64UHJnisSaWUCVfeD1sowVzkFx1GPh2_gIVs-nvU5rEyY/s400/Abbott+%2526+Theo+with+Prisoner1_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sometime after completing that assignment, my sight fell upon a bound individual being roughly 'escorted' into town from the Northwest road by two Hrognites: Abbott and Theos.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6sCnVVrSNhBGztvD84ZMxqYvHetsTOts8_sPY0ms4Y2Jchvu1IBnC-Xdz-iE5WMkrbsdQ7vdFl917CN34N0ZFCqIEzLUzhbf7FrpSYqTMVPwUH4kvhL2crKCf_KRLbAhBkHcROmOGas/s1600/Interrogation1_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6sCnVVrSNhBGztvD84ZMxqYvHetsTOts8_sPY0ms4Y2Jchvu1IBnC-Xdz-iE5WMkrbsdQ7vdFl917CN34N0ZFCqIEzLUzhbf7FrpSYqTMVPwUH4kvhL2crKCf_KRLbAhBkHcROmOGas/s400/Interrogation1_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once within the town's limits, they began to torture the crazed man, proclaiming that since he was a follower of Northbrook (that in itself was a major offence), by our laws they were free to offend him as they saw fit ("during wartime, citizens are permitted to perform major offences against recognized enemies of Dagger Deep."); though allowed, I did not approve of their cruel methods, nor that they were quite willing to perform them in public view. Hrogn rightfully has their reputation for barbarism by such deeds.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHCK8_8BgHPlE954WDrGnkv4cJB9OMhGhURaaqGWJhL5IJ2tSsCGVUL6UUVV7iw5vOZtY7Q5TwmVTopdbqVS4EgI7AzJOtFPyNUq59bhVJip82IjgzvCitoUpUTnSdWrSNXR1jkfde_5c/s1600/Northbrook+Prisoner1_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHCK8_8BgHPlE954WDrGnkv4cJB9OMhGhURaaqGWJhL5IJ2tSsCGVUL6UUVV7iw5vOZtY7Q5TwmVTopdbqVS4EgI7AzJOtFPyNUq59bhVJip82IjgzvCitoUpUTnSdWrSNXR1jkfde_5c/s400/Northbrook+Prisoner1_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a particularly distasteful inquiry, the desired information was extracted and the gathered crowd spread the news: the man was an advanced scout for a force of Northbrook over a throng in size and not more than an hour or so from the Deep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though the town lacked direct leadership that day (no nobility was present; not even the newly appointed Hand, the dwarf Ivar Ironsinger; apparently King Willumarius found the successor of the late Marcus unfit for the role. It was said Ivar was south in Helm's Deep attending to his new appointments and making preparations for some sort of Order he's developing), several members did their best to rally the townsfolk for battle and bolster our meagre defences.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzbmI2vvP9vS5LFD5eQ0FK4m5KrrW3a0bYNYCO6-BheW6D3Yg6LFa_xXtCGTH4Uatvpi1YOyD-kw8AJBus_LrlDhUoPrtJBBnci42DylCXScMEUXCpY0r074DYFQ0PmpyWVZwwQOEt_cw/s1600/Phoxx+%2526+Kampi_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzbmI2vvP9vS5LFD5eQ0FK4m5KrrW3a0bYNYCO6-BheW6D3Yg6LFa_xXtCGTH4Uatvpi1YOyD-kw8AJBus_LrlDhUoPrtJBBnci42DylCXScMEUXCpY0r074DYFQ0PmpyWVZwwQOEt_cw/s400/Phoxx+%2526+Kampi_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The cleric Phoxx and I set to the task of erecting makeshift barricades at the North and West gates of town, both of which sorely lacked any sort of gate; with aid we hastily constructed rather solid barriers from the materials at hand. The Southern and Eastern gates we had clever folk set up hidden hazards if any foes were to advance via those routes. In fact, just after I finished requesting a boorish trapper to attend to the Eastern gate, I ran afoul of a hidden device that slashed into my maille whilst I was scouting through that gate for any sign of the enemy. Luckily my armour kept me from being wounded, but unfortunately I had not the time to have it repaired before we began to hear the beating of Northbrook's war-drums.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCklV48cMhNk41UNN77FgLugBIXxyU0IYyZCvL6SapN5it5V-XdCxxFEp4CjFuB5zdThLmLfRKeHw9ZHU5bFG_OXr2MpZ-0B97oDznAeRTY60KhHrVVci194WMA2IWZCdt4fOZlYbZV4M/s1600/Northbrook+Approaches_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCklV48cMhNk41UNN77FgLugBIXxyU0IYyZCvL6SapN5it5V-XdCxxFEp4CjFuB5zdThLmLfRKeHw9ZHU5bFG_OXr2MpZ-0B97oDznAeRTY60KhHrVVci194WMA2IWZCdt4fOZlYbZV4M/s400/Northbrook+Approaches_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Northbrook approaches.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our enemy host marched relentlessly towards the town from the West, and perhaps after seeing that gateway blocked, they proceeded around to the North gate. Their formation was brutally efficient, for not even our archers succeeded on disrupting their lines before they crashed upon our bulwark. Our makeshift wall was successful in slowing their advance, but the way we had to construct it meant we could not easily repel the invaders; gradually, with significant loss, they scaled it and joined us in close combat.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLX36ZnhAOXSg-mD1emx7yqTLz1PjyQjuU4GXAi_yquH9FmD9wGjUtOt9ZZspKW3ZuwcsLxs2Nl5GSAvajr2GVFUGOgVA28UUVD82PNiEkpY123TskT90KE1a_nqHpOWtQARkAHuPFb9o/s1600/North+Gate+Battle1_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLX36ZnhAOXSg-mD1emx7yqTLz1PjyQjuU4GXAi_yquH9FmD9wGjUtOt9ZZspKW3ZuwcsLxs2Nl5GSAvajr2GVFUGOgVA28UUVD82PNiEkpY123TskT90KE1a_nqHpOWtQARkAHuPFb9o/s400/North+Gate+Battle1_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a valiant battle we managed to defeat the first wave of their forces, during which we managed to capture and remove one of their cardinal leaders. The removal of such a key figure so early into their invasion was most likely quite a blow to their morale and hampered their war effort; unfortunately not as much as we hoped, for Northbrook soon pressed a second advance, this time dividing their focus between the North and West gates.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67NvZ3Ahba8bRE6uEcSzN-jBvk8tapmSt-FBhLa_xEEu-72ybYt0wFHSF7LIG6iKRH0iP00rMszv4Oto3ImpeGVfFjq2xejekNRaZsNi0jxBK5wT9xb6VKYSqWmNJYBHY_5iKbupxgWM/s1600/Northbrook+Second+Wave_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67NvZ3Ahba8bRE6uEcSzN-jBvk8tapmSt-FBhLa_xEEu-72ybYt0wFHSF7LIG6iKRH0iP00rMszv4Oto3ImpeGVfFjq2xejekNRaZsNi0jxBK5wT9xb6VKYSqWmNJYBHY_5iKbupxgWM/s400/Northbrook+Second+Wave_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Caught in a pincher, our forces were nearly routed, but our foe withdrew apparently seeking something beyond our mere destruction.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqK0Di4ziWmhTMfHPt62CPmm_6NyO5wohaWm7O5hMUY143-EHbRrYJKQH_rKqlnvw-y9xX4lEShZ4Eqp6d0Sa5ny-CFGWv-ssqu3a1Aq-YOmM1oQOtRxa2Z1gj6f3N5vclxcjSKOvC0wU/s1600/Kal+vs+Northbrook_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqK0Di4ziWmhTMfHPt62CPmm_6NyO5wohaWm7O5hMUY143-EHbRrYJKQH_rKqlnvw-y9xX4lEShZ4Eqp6d0Sa5ny-CFGWv-ssqu3a1Aq-YOmM1oQOtRxa2Z1gj6f3N5vclxcjSKOvC0wU/s400/Kal+vs+Northbrook_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After regrouping we took stock of our situation: rumour had spread that Northbrook was here seeking a brand of vast power; a piece of a map that was recovered off of one of their warriors leant credence to this and it was believed the location they headed for next was the fire portal. There was disagreement on the next course of action: some (mostly Hrogn) called not to lose any time pursuing the enemy and whilst others thought it best to remain in town and gather our strength. I initially felt it was my duty as an active member of the Watch, to stay and help organize a plan. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8aPD8sUgHgZ-GqDb24Iwk9vehZbcl1bYuWHoUHppuE0KOGOHkioaYipoPofw4VQXrIees-xzmB15ojV7SZWVkQIiQ7LSPZlBY-uPT_-TYbNs2-xrKgBvXOvhl3ryfxGFGQEXQwiusHk/s1600/Fire+Portal+Battle_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8aPD8sUgHgZ-GqDb24Iwk9vehZbcl1bYuWHoUHppuE0KOGOHkioaYipoPofw4VQXrIees-xzmB15ojV7SZWVkQIiQ7LSPZlBY-uPT_-TYbNs2-xrKgBvXOvhl3ryfxGFGQEXQwiusHk/s400/Fire+Portal+Battle_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But after hearing that Hrogn was outnumbered and in need of aid, I set off with a few others including Hector with intent to render assistance, but after trudging across the plains to the distant jeers and insults hurled at us by Northbrook and seeing that the scant force of Hrogn had become undead <i>thralls</i>, it became clear to the Brother of Ithus and myself that at best we could stall the enemy by sacrificing our lives in hope that the main force would follow our example.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We brought low a few <i>aptrgangr</i> by both conviction and steel, but the tide of their warriors soon washed over us and we fell.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I do not how much time had passed before Relan's familiar touch pulled me from the grey realm, but I was again on my feet, sword in hand, singing death to those who sought to harm whom that I cared for. We plunged in and out of battle until the sun began to sink beyond the horizon. We travelled the lengths and breadths of the realm, trying to prevent Northbrook from achieving their goal; to be truthful, it felt like a hopeless task, for our forces were scattered, our information unclear, and our strength fleeting. We had but fleeting torch light to see clearly by.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Things began to proceed in our favour when we successfully caught their sizeable force in a pincher at Galadriel's, soundly defeated them, and afterwards recovered the relic they sought: a wicked sword that drained both the essence and life-force from those who openly wielded it. Theos of Hrogn now possesses it, and has vowed to those who demanded its destruction that he would carry it only until the remainder of the Wretched Court of Northbrook are destroyed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Let's hope that promise is kept, for he who breaks a solemn oath is <i>nidth</i> and his spirit bound to suffer in <i>Náströnd,</i> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">inside the depths of</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Helheim</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With their forces shattered and their leadership broken, the remaining forces of our rival fled back North. The folk of Dagger Deep were once again victorious.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Exhausted from the day's ordeals, I sated my hunger with a bowl of stone soup from the trading shop <i>Strange Things From Strange Lands</i>, brewed by its proprietor, the wood elf Elora. Just as we (Myself, Relan, Claudia, Elora and her half-tree(?) son, Seyden) were discussing various things, a far off wail drew Relan and myself, along with other curious folk, from the comforting lighted areas of town to the tall ranges of Calen Tor.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There we came upon a scene of late carnage: a small encampment lay in ruin and there were few scant remains of the previous inhabitants. We estimated that the disturbance that occurred here was not recent but couldn't be older than a week or so at the most. Above all these grim sights, the most unsettling thing seen was an the insubstantial form of a man: similar to a wraith in incorporealness but neither did it bare the dark and distorted visage common to such beings, nor did the emotion that palpably radiated be not anger, but sorrow. It did no harm upon us, even when we attempted and failed to touch it; it just lingered.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This apparition muttered unintelligible things before and when we hauled the corpses back to town, where we hoped that through Relan's miracles the affliction that prevented their rejuvenation could be removed. After a brief session of prayer to Ithus, we returned to see the bodies had been placed outside of the bar; another nearby event that drew my attention, but I saw that Watch Captain Milo was present so I decided not to investigate it at the time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Back to where we had moved the bodies away from that turbulent scene, Relan was having no luck restoring life to them, but the improved illumination allowed us to better discern their condition: all but one showed severe deterioration; the one that didn't had a deep, bloody cavity in the centre of his chest. The spectre lingered closest to this body above the others, and we suspected some sort of connection. Through faint words it whispered to Relan, he and a small party darted back into the fields of Calen Tor in search of something they believed they missed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Soon Relan returned, carrying a small object he claimed was incredibly hot; when he dropped it into my gauntleted hands I felt that he was indeed correct about its heat: it burned like a ember and it's weight and hardness was like a stone, but was in the shape of a heart. After quickly making the association I returned the blistering object to the chest cavity of the corpse.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With a great cry of pain the corpse sprang to life; it ranted and raved as Relan attempted to calm and question it. I did not consider myself to be helpful in such matters, given Relan's better way with speech than I, so during that time I chose to join myself in the other concern: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Abbott and some other folk had confined an individual in the stockade; one whom they claimed was a mad experiment from Anhk. I was willing to be lenient earlier this day when that prisoner was a follower of Northbrook, but as I gathered this man had not broken any local laws and he was being unjustly held and tortured by Abbott and his entourage; personal vendettas are not to be settled in such a way. Just as Milo and I made to cease this unruly affair, the bound individual vanished without a trace.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Having finished with his consoling of the once dead man with the burning heart, whom was discovered to be the hirebrand Duggan, Relan soon joined the perplexed crowd that was beginning to disperse from around the now empty stockade. Vexed and exhausted, I must admit I vocally expressed my displeasure in a most unbecoming way and declared myself off-duty for the remainder of the night. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As much as I desired a drink (or several) I felt I needed to be alone, so I said my farewells to my mentor and my captain, who respectively expressed their appreciation for my devotion and dedication that day; Milo even stated that I was due for promotion to senior guardsman.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With that, I returned to my nearby camp and fell into a deep slumber.</span><br />
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<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
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Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-42889519780842860702015-10-07T17:16:00.001-07:002015-12-10T21:11:51.288-08:00Kampi's Saga - Time Old QuestionSkol! It's <b><a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank">Kampi's Saga</a>!</b><br />
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The Saturday prior to the last was his first full mission as an newly appointed acolyte. Though I tested and initially failed his full guild test <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/2015/09/kampis-edda-rumour-quest-scenarios.html" target="_blank">two weeks prior</a> on a misinterpretation of a particular ruling, the Executive Council deliberated upon the unclear rule and decided to reverse the reason for failure a few days following. So without pomp, Kampi passed and became an acolyte! It only took him a year since arriving at Dagger Deep, but for him (me) the journey is more important than the destination.<br />
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Since I'd been training with armour and my shield for quite a while it didn't feel like a huge shift for me; Kampi just has a higher survivability rate now in battle and has a few new useful spells to make him a more effective ally.<br />
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Anyway, enough of this, on to the entry:<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The fifth D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of Wodin</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of Autumn</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Kenaz</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Surtur</i>, the Black.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Torch/Ulcer</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Potential, Change, Mortality</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Vitality, Guidance, Revelation</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Pain, Delusion, Sickness </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It seems the Æsir, in their wisdom, have decided to grant me the powers belonging to a faithful acolyte, for several days prior I exercised them as best I could during the concerns of the day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was my first full day performing as a member of the townguard; wearing my hip a sash bearing the azure and ivory fields of the settlement of Dagger Deep, I strode into town carrying copies of the Village Peasant's latest periodical, as I was instructed to do as my first duty. After an attempt to distribute them to a scant and uninterested populace, I left them at the tavern.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following that I was met by a perhaps overly-friendly elder whom I did not recognize as a local, who was muttering something incomprehensible; and soon after we parted ways I began to feel tired and ill. Nash the druid was also feeling unwell after meeting with him and after witnessing the mage Serenity alleviating her illness through magic, I also petitioned for her aid, and a short time later I began to feel my hale self again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwrofal6O9IrKuwB9Fdx99pBwQLig9cBf1LckCFYZqPY0A2WIOoXJ8mMXCelJSYBjFBwK_6z9J7AtwbQra_Ci2mvwH6RU-KnN8K1t-OQTADLQQvfiqcUR8arJZcWGq-7ixlRUMjbPT0o/s1600/Serenity1_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwrofal6O9IrKuwB9Fdx99pBwQLig9cBf1LckCFYZqPY0A2WIOoXJ8mMXCelJSYBjFBwK_6z9J7AtwbQra_Ci2mvwH6RU-KnN8K1t-OQTADLQQvfiqcUR8arJZcWGq-7ixlRUMjbPT0o/s640/Serenity1_drawn.jpg" width="475" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Serenity</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The old man who was spreading about a malady apparently met a violent end, and after some discussion, members of the Watch still unwell offered to move his body to the gaol until a priest was able to cure and return him to life; thus preventing the disease from further propagating. I should be more cautious with the offered hands that I grasp, but I do believe it also goes along way to be polite.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2Oy2kjskjE6S6hrf18f7DxtE1ZtKa8uHgyrtUwGdEsdPheIKoDwwue8wg8FjYYCfSMXgKjF-Yx0T9bPJyVe5aSMKJgekZIoolKUTSguvDhFzLtfahHCPEOMPlqClQIPnT29jL6Xwdvg/s1600/Milo1_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2Oy2kjskjE6S6hrf18f7DxtE1ZtKa8uHgyrtUwGdEsdPheIKoDwwue8wg8FjYYCfSMXgKjF-Yx0T9bPJyVe5aSMKJgekZIoolKUTSguvDhFzLtfahHCPEOMPlqClQIPnT29jL6Xwdvg/s400/Milo1_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captain Milo</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eventually I was called to a meet with my fellow guardsfolk that were also present and on duty; our Captain of the Watch, Milo, ran introductions between the guardsmen and his lieutenant Kalabar. I had brief dealing months ago with this somewhat shady character, his motivation seems that of primarily greed; I wouldn't be surprised if was using the watch to his own gains; ordering patrols in certain locals, etc. I shouldn't state such feelings though as its beyond my station and purview of our Captain.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfI4uvTumB3D989rwhah8wUbeHkSOQqIJroIXBzE2nu7KOEopNaOuvoOnthPgSii7hWM_5gffFr4Ak6qGRa0eOw-eZJztYwxpdfJujiB5DSwdiRhrbqoOrje1q36ptjWnmo5kI_YcGOM/s1600/Kalabar_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfI4uvTumB3D989rwhah8wUbeHkSOQqIJroIXBzE2nu7KOEopNaOuvoOnthPgSii7hWM_5gffFr4Ak6qGRa0eOw-eZJztYwxpdfJujiB5DSwdiRhrbqoOrje1q36ptjWnmo5kI_YcGOM/s640/Kalabar_drawn.jpg" width="473" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lieutenant Kalabar</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Before we were stationed throughout the town to our watches, Milo tested our mettle in the sparring ring. Apparently my martial prowess must have been satisfactory, for I was briefly tasked to practice with fellow guard Ayla, who is rather timid in physical confrontations.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ayla, Priestess of Lanthar</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After practice, we were assigned to our posts; mine was the temple district, the northwestern fields and sparring ring, and the town limits bordering the barony of Calen Tor. My watch was uneventful for the first half; I passed most of it watching the comings and goings from the criers' rostrum.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Two friendly, but rather dimwitted </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">jötnar</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, Stump and Rock, were tasked to watch from the town's walls; their giant voices carried far as they made inane observations and struck up conversations with the townsfolk. They're about as keen as their namesakes, but I'm glad we're able to harness their strength for the good of the Watch.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJUG4d2F6eq5d2Z-ucE8fyUukNjw2SDPrLoQmomil753OT82i35INfzlnBOqSzpUXBcxEGtrA9AWf4-bacoI8hapO0FZ6DpDI4jcXuQl9SLn8Vcctcidu6nHgLG7uDsAofjPeCTW3tw8/s1600/Stump+%2526+Rock_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJUG4d2F6eq5d2Z-ucE8fyUukNjw2SDPrLoQmomil753OT82i35INfzlnBOqSzpUXBcxEGtrA9AWf4-bacoI8hapO0FZ6DpDI4jcXuQl9SLn8Vcctcidu6nHgLG7uDsAofjPeCTW3tw8/s400/Stump+%2526+Rock_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stump and Rock, <i>jötnar</i> of the Derprock Tribe. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I learnt the week prior that the Watch was attempting to contain another potential outbreak stemming from a hooded devotee of the one of the profane Chaos Gods that are allowed to be worshipped here at the Deep. Despite</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> knowingly infecting those he came into contact with, the Watch was apparently powerless to do anything about it because it wasn't breaking any of the listed laws. This came to concern again this day:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kalabar called the guards together on a task that needed performing: we were to enter the unholy church of the Undivided and bring the hooded individual to quarantine in the gaol, with intent to protect the townfolk from further plague. Guarding the entrance to the grounds, I didn't witness the events that occurred inside: </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">apparently</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">after claiming our intention of arrest, fellow watchmen Rycen, perhaps too overeager, slit the fanatic's throat with the intent that we carry his body to lock-up, where it would be tended to by Relan (who was now under the employ of the Watch to stem the possible spread of disease). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A fellow chaos disciple arrived soon afterwards and demanded entrance to his </span><strike style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">pit</strike><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> place of worship; having no reason to deny him, I let him enter. After his demands were made, he attempted to restore life to his compatriot, but was magically Silenced by Kalabar. To contain the sickness, again the ill were tasked to gradually carry the body to the gaol; we managed to make it to the front door when the other fanatic returned with the Sheriff Balthier and a heated argument began between all present.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the end Relan restored the body to life, but not before he cured him of his contagions. Once back amongst the living he loudly proclaimed he was 'unclean' in the eyes of his god, and hurried back to his church, presumably to 'anoint</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">' himself with the disease ridden filth strewn about that vile place. I try to keep an open mind about other faiths, but the practices of that one seem most unwholesome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The pair desired to press assault/murder charges against the Watch, particularly Rycen, but the Watch maintained that those present were acting under Kalabar's orders, who conveniently</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> slipped off before the discussion to a head. I soon grew weary and frustrated at the squabbling, blame, and confusion: I resumed my watch to calm myself; how I longed for a drink.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A distraught Ayla later found </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">me with her watch sash in hand; as she handed it over to me she professed how she believed she could not willing follow morally dubious leadership nor be part of an inefficient, possibility corrupt, organization that is meant to protect the township. I had little to say in reply, for the same thoughts were crossing my own mind.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I barely had time to consider this turn of events, when the seemingly-immortal being calling himself Alexandros (who was last seen a </span><a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/2015/09/kampis-edda-rumour-quest-scenarios.html" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">fortnight prior</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">) arrived into town with a mixed retinue of individuals calling themselves the Exorcists. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Alexandros' team consisted of two powerful fighting men, a bound fire elemental, and a half-demon girl referred to as a Tiefling.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He grimly announced to the town that millennia-old rivals, the demon sorcerer</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Nepxar and the necromancer Deimin, had chosen our local realm (flush with natural resources, magical energy, and fresh souls), as their battleground, far from the homelands of Exorcists.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unfortunately, the only thing that these two hate more than each other, is </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Alexandros</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> and his Exorcists, and the folk of Dagger Deep were soon caught in the middle of a time old feud as the raging demons of Nepxar slaughtered indiscriminately as Deimin used the slain to bolster the ranks of his undead army.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Casters of magic soon discovered that spells used to control demons and the undead respectively did not work in the presence of these powerful beings; though my meagre channelling of faith did function at banishing lowly </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>aptrgangr</i>, more powerful (and plentiful) forms of undead were beyond my capability. I had to rely more on my mettle and faith in the Æsir to see me through that day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A long and chaotic battle ensued. Through means that I do not fully understand, nor do I frankly care at this point in time, apparently with the townsfolks' aid, the Exorcists managed to banish both the demon lord and the necromancer from our realm; though apparently </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Alexandros and his team are stuck here, far from their home, which they claim is on the other side of the known world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I thank </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Alexandros and his allies for their help against these two threats and wish him the best on their long journey home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That evening I intended to spend recovering from the day's exhaustion with a good meal and much drink, but outside the tavern I learned to my surprise that Ayla, whilst undoubtedly expressing her apprehension about the earlier events to Balthier, was unexpected appointed by him as his replacement as Sheriff. Looks like Ayla will remain apart of the Watch for at least a little longer. This makes me glad</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, it can use more decent people</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> with strong morals; gives me hope that what we do is for the good of all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I remember little else of that night, I should perhaps cut down on the amount I drink when I'm with my <strike>mentor</strike> brother Relan.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>Skol!</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
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<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></h4>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
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Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-32257208314899791012015-09-20T15:16:00.000-07:002015-12-10T21:12:23.661-08:00Kampi's Saga: Rumour Quest - Scenarios<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you don't know by now what this is, it's another entry in </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Kampi's Saga</a>.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> The format of the Saturday before last was a little bit different than our usual single mission-plot structure, as it was the testing ground for a series of 'scenarios', smaller plots run by individual GMs and their NPC teams</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Aside from enjoying the day overall and the scenarios Kampi got swept up in, I personally feel that the concept of multiple lesser stories unfolding more interesting than the more common one large plot; it presents more of a living world and gives PCs a variety of events to choose from to incorporate themselves in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> I hope to see 'scenarios' more regular thing, even if its a single one tacked onto a regular mission or perhaps a tournament day. As for this past Saturday, I gave myself a tiny break from <i>MC</i>.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The second D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of the Moon</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of Autumn</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315</span></b><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Raido</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Signá</i>, the Leader of the Valkyrja</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Ride</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Journey, Movement, Transition</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Beginning, Evolution, Progression </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Ending, Stagnation, Termination</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once again my faith has been tested. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once again I was shown wanting by the gods I follow.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am beginning to feel that no matter how strong my devotion, how much I strive to do the correct thing, perhaps I shall never be able to the ideal follower.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_Kq42QmDvAlCXmDBNALlvSpMAr8uO-uEjgP-FPOZ9b2FyaYOgeAu2_eHxJrUeKc8_YiDf5ofz6Ts1tiv9VjxDzvDxNnHoc4UwVUyPskr8Y9dJabIAzdNDKAR_XSMAZwKFBDE5yovB9c/s1600/Roundshield.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_Kq42QmDvAlCXmDBNALlvSpMAr8uO-uEjgP-FPOZ9b2FyaYOgeAu2_eHxJrUeKc8_YiDf5ofz6Ts1tiv9VjxDzvDxNnHoc4UwVUyPskr8Y9dJabIAzdNDKAR_XSMAZwKFBDE5yovB9c/s200/Roundshield.jpg" width="148" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I began that day in Dagger Deep, as always, prepared for whatever dire events were to come. After weeks of practising and training with it, I finally carried my personal roundshield, engraved with the protective runes <i>algiz</i>, the rune of the goddess <i>Brynhilda</i>, the Shield-Maiden. May she sanctify it to ward me from the strikes of my foe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As the quiet day progressed I began to feel imbued with confidence in my own ability and vigour, my mind filled with familiar revelations, and the vessel of my soul filled beyond its normal bounds.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was ready to prove myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Events unfolded slowly before they became a cascade:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was finally able to follow up on the invitation I was garnered over a fortnight past to join the Town Guard. The Mare was present that day and he directed me to the Captain of the Guard, Milo, who had recently returned from being abroad for some time. With several recruits, he went over the standard rules of the Guard and the laws we are expected in keep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Odd fae-folk began to appear in the township; It was amusing to witness that the gallant fighter Ajax, so quick to boast of his deeds hunting sizeable beasts by his lonesome, was even quicker to flee the presence of a small fairy. Many say his apprehension stems from having his sex briefly altered from ingesting their lark food as a gift.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Zen1CJmOZnJbf_4D96HVaBo7Nb2-b54X9BwG3FdTk43zorZcaw1n7L23r_iTB2qaZNiW3AjRhVcQPdCOGykbmw9Z1IF71v70iJO0rD_JKSgg5_LWUc0NCk2oZGfyNWFq1H2gnZyFHJU/s1600/Ajax+leaning_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Zen1CJmOZnJbf_4D96HVaBo7Nb2-b54X9BwG3FdTk43zorZcaw1n7L23r_iTB2qaZNiW3AjRhVcQPdCOGykbmw9Z1IF71v70iJO0rD_JKSgg5_LWUc0NCk2oZGfyNWFq1H2gnZyFHJU/s400/Ajax+leaning_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Rumours eventually began to trickle into town of some sort <i>wight</i> raising undead creatures out by the river Galadriel; just as Ajax and I were having a discussion of risking ones' life for the safety of others and undead were the used example. Kalliades of the Wild Ones was mustering a scout force to check the veracity of these rumours; I volunteered, and with a bit of goading, Ajax joined with us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As a small party, we trekked all the way out to the elven river but encountered nothing but one individual during our travels: an accented man calling himself Alexandros, who claimed to be a member of a moral order called the Exorists. He questioned about the lay of the local lands and any sovereignty they belonged to, expounding he very recently arrived unto this land. We permitted him to accompany us since he seemed no immediate threat, through we watched him closely.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The woodland by the river appeared bereft of reports of undead; we broke off into small groups to search the surrounding land for any signs. Ajax pointed out sections of upturned soil and bent foliage, but he believed they were dated; perhaps there is some truth to his abilities as a keen hunter despite his boasting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As the pair of us thoroughly scouted the riverbank, we quickly responded to shouts of alarm. Once we had burst through the thicket, we saw a shambling force of undead monstrosities pursuing members of our company southerly, led by a animated corpse that practically radiated magic: a lich. We opted to loop around and attempt to regroup with our allies in lower Ork's Field. When we did, the group soon found ourselves becoming potentially trapped between the undead force in front of us and an antagonistic band of ork and goblinoid beings approaching from our rear.</span><br />
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</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxMM2ktiAv9P6zB0kGJcgt7iHF4qknSEUZoL9iVkCFNRcJQI6KQjD8xLhbpFQ9g-g0vRSkfLOXMrX6j2BP3FcUWp2xMtU-0mdU2DMsqsfwcVy-hZM2YlSW3KQXgi7jJ5eH3-vjD2aYAU/s1600/Giant+Bros_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxMM2ktiAv9P6zB0kGJcgt7iHF4qknSEUZoL9iVkCFNRcJQI6KQjD8xLhbpFQ9g-g0vRSkfLOXMrX6j2BP3FcUWp2xMtU-0mdU2DMsqsfwcVy-hZM2YlSW3KQXgi7jJ5eH3-vjD2aYAU/s320/Giant+Bros_drawn.jpg" width="236" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A handful of us withdrew to a more defensible position, whilst those who lacked in such tactical insight, such as a pair of dimwitted <i>jötunn</i>, lumbered off in search the stones they had thrown. Despite meeting otherwise, some are still prosaic examples of their race.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After we narrowly avoided a violent encounter we rejoined the remainder of the friendly forces in town before we became caught with a vice between the onslaught of the undead forces and the marauding band of goblins demanding the whereabouts of 'Ogesh'. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After both groups had continued on their way, leaving many slain, we regrouped and decided that if we could obtain this 'Ogesh' (which we believed to be a sword of some sort given witnesses related seeing the 'skins rifle through the weapons of the fallen), we could perhaps use that as bargaining leverage to gain their assistance against the lich and his undead force.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">During our quest for 'Ogesh', we decided send off a small scout force to search the deeper wilderness to the river; I joined the pair of Wild Ones selected for the task: Kalliades, whose soul was successfully recovered and returned to it's mortal vessel following the ritual fortnight prior, and Mortenkien, a 'witch hunter' in the service of the Wild Ones. </span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There was little time for conversation as our time together was travelling steadily and silently through the wilds; we encountered few friendly parties and staved off altercations with several unfriendly, but we were ultimately unsuccessful in discovering more information on the details or whereabouts 'Ogesh'.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When we returned to town just in time to bolster our allies during a conflict, we soon learned 'Ogesh' was a dagger the orks desired to complete a savage ritual of their own, which they succeeded in doing once they forcefully acquired the athame from an elderly bearded traveller (possibly Wodin in disguise?); given the folk of Dagger Deep were also busy with the undead scourge and other diversions, I'm sure they were unable to prevent them from doing so.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After much trial and tribulation, we routed the lich and his lifeless army; a</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">s before, when </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">the threats to the Deep had been quelled, the abilities and confidence granted to me by the <i>Æsir</i> ebbed from my body, mind, and soul as exhaustion and doubt replaced them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In my devotions that evening, I felt much... contempt and indecision; I recounted the actions of the day I performed, seeking the reason why. I had attempted to channel more fervour in the deeds I performed in the name of my gods and I felt I never faltered in my faith to them, yet still I had spurned them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">At last the epiphany came to me: unlike other deities, whose followers believe them to the highest embodiment of all that is physical, emotional, and spiritual, the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Æsir</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> (as related to my kin from the tales and sagas), their ardour reflects that of mortals; they are not stoic and indifferent, but passionate and prone to the same foibles as those born in the realms of Midgard. Other faiths would proclaim such sayings as some form of sacrilege; w</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ithin my own creed I feel it is not. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In how this relates to the recent events is thus: I sensed that my </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">deities felt that I was unfaithful when I received grace from outside of their domain; a blessing upon my blade, fully unbidden in actuality, from my mentor Relan in the name of his god, <i>Ithus</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though blessed by another god, that blade was wielded righteously and did true by this servant in the name of the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Æsir.</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> I respect Relan and his deity too much to cast aside their assistance just because I think some my consider such aid to be unfaithful to my own gods. I had learned that lesson before; despite initial reluctance I was even willing to eventually garner the divine boon proffered by the unsure alliance that was struct with high priestess of <i>the Morrigan</i>.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I understand if the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Æsir </i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">forbid that I trust in trinkets enchanted with lesser forms of magic, but I </span><u style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">will not</u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> forsake divine favour granted by other faiths in my duty, just as I would not keep my own gifts from my allies because of their own beliefs do not necessarily conform with my own.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The folk of Dagger Deep are a varied lot in race, culture, and creed; if it were of sufficient size, I would compare it to the fabled city <i>Miklagard</i> in its sheer cosmopolitan depth. I feel now that perhaps the best way to keep faith is to be willing to adapt and aid others.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">If the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Æsir</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> continue to lose faith in me as their loyal servant, I shall endeavour to keep my faith in them, even if it is by another pursuit. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I wonder if Ajax is looking for an apprentice, I am interested in possibly continuing my martial studies...</span><br />
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<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Æsir</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>-Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
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Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-1944651480202766742015-09-01T17:29:00.000-07:002015-09-01T17:29:45.488-07:00#RPGaDay2015 EntriesHaving enjoyed last year's social media event, <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/2014/08/rpgaday-entries.html" target="_blank"><b>RPGaDay</b></a>, I was keen to join in this year's August batch of queries; sadly I became too busy/distracted what with returning back to full-time at work, numerous projects, obligations and such, and thus I was unable to answer any of the questions beyond the 13th day. :(<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHHfUd8ZJivCnzBz7ohAwZXFLqeFwsosKbvHe4frbrLpe1Vyl2Eg1WHHqdOLieznXJaDmgCACKZFZtzxtTKNmYk_zJEauT4mn9MyPJKO0zOxonHkkI9gDmPwEqvAaMuLF_OuD-Y5my_A/s1600/RPGaDay2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHHfUd8ZJivCnzBz7ohAwZXFLqeFwsosKbvHe4frbrLpe1Vyl2Eg1WHHqdOLieznXJaDmgCACKZFZtzxtTKNmYk_zJEauT4mn9MyPJKO0zOxonHkkI9gDmPwEqvAaMuLF_OuD-Y5my_A/s400/RPGaDay2015.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Below is a compilation of the answers I did complete for those interested:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>RPGaDay</b> is back for another year and I'm already late to the party; I blame the local weekend-long LARP event I was at. I'll be posting my responses to the first three daily queries today but hopefully after that I'll be on track.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Allow me to start off these questions with the caveat that for the past several months I've haven't been focused on table-top as much I usually am, mainly because my gaming interest and time has been solely focused upon LARPing, so for many for these questions I won't have a ready answer to state and will require a bit of thought as I haven't been as keen to the latest RPG developments as I was previous years.</span><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 1: Forthcoming Game You're Most Looking Forward To</span></b></u><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqA_kh0y4ZKhVV94oay2iB4rnkj2Wt8dDqeqmd5udN_KGgf-VGed79ln9NB5QBSfIc40YBUT2fUZ8bv8hxRHxR5xR8bWEkFyYOO_nKWPToZGlxkIAXGPeO_J1GEduuTQwJGfHT-JNUBek/s1600/Conan+2d20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqA_kh0y4ZKhVV94oay2iB4rnkj2Wt8dDqeqmd5udN_KGgf-VGed79ln9NB5QBSfIc40YBUT2fUZ8bv8hxRHxR5xR8bWEkFyYOO_nKWPToZGlxkIAXGPeO_J1GEduuTQwJGfHT-JNUBek/s320/Conan+2d20.jpg" width="246" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a bit of thought, I'm going to got with the upcoming version of <i>Robert E. Howard’s </i><b><i>CONAN: Adventures In An Age Undreamed Of</i></b>, by <i>Modiphius Entertainment</i>. I, along with many other folk enjoy Mongoose Publishing's take of the sword & sorcery world of that savage Cimmerian, but I personally feel (as I've stated in the past) that the <i>d20 system</i> it runs upon is dated and a bit clunky for the high-action adventure that every Hyborian Age tale should contain.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As previously mentioned, I haven't been following this or really any other RPG, but as I've garnered the <i>2d20 system</i> behind this game is rather cinematic and was designed by <a href="http://www.paintedthumb.com/" target="_blank">Jay Little</a>, the brilliant designer of the narrative dice used in <i>FFG's</i> <b>Star Wars RPG</b> lines, so I suspect it'll fill that desire for cinematic, high adventure. It also has dozens of other well-known designers and artists attached to the line and also aims to mesh with the forthcoming <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/806316071/conan/description" target="_blank">Conan boardgame</a> (another thing I backed on kickstarter), so I expect great things.</span><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 2: Kickstarted Game Most Pleased You Backed</span></b></u><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj43vTOCr6czRuXsw-bBlv1ZVUf0YdNP3gpwiL0aBxtiJazQC-T373x-1SALwlsyYwF01EUnEnptDKjItporRwlmaHWDsjdv68TiUN3jvgDGy-uFiPiIsesrPELZvZKe0V5xqOLdhWPW7U/s1600/Hillfolk_Cover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj43vTOCr6czRuXsw-bBlv1ZVUf0YdNP3gpwiL0aBxtiJazQC-T373x-1SALwlsyYwF01EUnEnptDKjItporRwlmaHWDsjdv68TiUN3jvgDGy-uFiPiIsesrPELZvZKe0V5xqOLdhWPW7U/s320/Hillfolk_Cover.png" width="228" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let's have a quick browse through my meagre backer history on my KS account to discover the answer: Though I backed the <i>7th edition</i> of <b>Call of Cthulhu</b> and the updated <i>Horror on the Orient Express</i> campaign nearly three years ago, I still have yet to receive any physical rewards so they don't count; <b>Lusus Naturae</b>, though excellent, isn't a standalone game per say, so I won't count it; my <b>Numerena</b> <i>Reliquary Boxed Set</i> is a standalone game but I didn't back the original kickstarter and bought the corebook at a FLGS, so also no; the <b>Fate Core</b> line delivered quite well but the one I believe I'm most pleased for plopping down cash for is <b><i>Hillfolk: A Game of Iron Age Drama</i></b>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Although I've still yet to play this game, the chief reasons it pleases me the most are a) this book seriously made me think deeper about storytelling, scene-framing, narrative, etc. in games, b) such info has practical use in ALL incarnations of roleplaying regardless of system/genre, c) currently it is the least expensive RPG project I've backed (and didn't flop), and d) the designer/writer <a href="http://www.robin-d-laws.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank">Robin D. Laws</a> is a fellow Canadian.</span><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 3: Favourite New Game Of The Past 12 Months</span></u></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJeEgEGd0C6Zf9FFZI9UG4fapfjYMHYQgN2Pw2a5C4fK5IDnrm4DUwQa_1q5eU1yULRa6d76pR97bgVF1p46gF6C97lPHChog-pxdQeyRsjzxnDBHMLjFi6p4qc7SSVc_AUeJsDoEbvI/s1600/Mythender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJeEgEGd0C6Zf9FFZI9UG4fapfjYMHYQgN2Pw2a5C4fK5IDnrm4DUwQa_1q5eU1yULRa6d76pR97bgVF1p46gF6C97lPHChog-pxdQeyRsjzxnDBHMLjFi6p4qc7SSVc_AUeJsDoEbvI/s320/Mythender.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is a tricky one, as I haven't really had the chance to play/acquire anything new as of the last RPGaDay series a year ago; I haven't even gotten around to picking up the books for the new <i>5th edition</i> of <b>Dungeons & Dragons</b>. Browsing my bookshelf and looking through my past archives it seems the only new game I've played/bought since was <b><i>Mythender</i></b> by <a href="http://ryanmacklin.com/" target="_blank">Ryan Macklin</a> at GottaCon 2015 back in February/March.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The designer himself ran a session of the game at our local convention and I enjoyed it and its over-the-top mythic, god-killing theme so much I brought a print copy and had it signed. To my shame though the book has been languishing since, just waiting to be read in its entirety and like so many of my other games unleashed upon unsuspecting players. I should really bump this game to the top of my reading queue.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For those interested, the PDF of <b><i>Mythender</i></b> is <u>FREE</u>. For those interested, check out <a href="http://mythenderrpg.com/">mythenderrpg.com</a> to find out more.</span><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 4: Most Surprising Game</span></u></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A tough question to answer; is it specifically referring to which system one found the most surprising, or a particular session that went in a completely different direction? Is this a good or a bad surprise? I think I can answer all of those queries with two answers:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As far as an entire game being surprising, thinking back, I'd have to go with <b><i>Mouse Guard</i></b>: One has to admit the initial premise of playing as tiny little mice sounds a bit absurd (yet, at least for me, quite intriguing) but once I read the mechanics, saw the gorgeous art, played and experienced a truly unique RPG, I was pleasantly surprised just how brilliant it all of it worked together almost seamlessly. It got me both invested in the writer and artist, <a href="http://davidpetersen.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank">David Petersen</a>, and the game designer, <a href="https://www.burningwheel.com/" target="_blank"><i>Burning Wheel HQ</i></a>.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGI2Zfuq457SGloU_7EGYDQlUNWxJ3PC5cCtwYODv4kZfj7n_T_zJD805GyU7sv9kcy8igyxv_v2PhiXwtznW_tReSjRoX8kfvjr2xBz52VFd5XzYRVjfM0JL9BJRYwz7wj7KDdEao0Y/s1600/Mouse+Guard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGI2Zfuq457SGloU_7EGYDQlUNWxJ3PC5cCtwYODv4kZfj7n_T_zJD805GyU7sv9kcy8igyxv_v2PhiXwtznW_tReSjRoX8kfvjr2xBz52VFd5XzYRVjfM0JL9BJRYwz7wj7KDdEao0Y/s1600/Mouse+Guard.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On an aside, at the beginning of this year it was announced that the <b><i>Mouse Guard</i></b> RPG was to be getting a <i>2nd revised edition</i>, most likely containing rule changes similar to those used in <b>Torchbearer</b> (a game whose system is based off of <b><i>Mouse Guard's</i></b>) and some lore updates to match the current graphic novels. Initially it was said to be released in April, but that's yet to happen, though some believe its bound to be out soon; <i>Paizo</i> has it up on their site for preorder. I'd love to get my hands on a shiny new <i>2nd Ed</i> boxed set.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpqWzksEtltozFcELSDcLd3PUyFXb08YVvkOGSVjv2QHdcbnN8k7QNlVvUFkc5oaxtX9IDKo3pWA_aTCaHSO2sPmtQMtsOGiGtCt2hGUStfJq8hYyvdtzLd9tlukN74a2ieDkhDeR0vcE/s1600/GURPS+4e+basic+set.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpqWzksEtltozFcELSDcLd3PUyFXb08YVvkOGSVjv2QHdcbnN8k7QNlVvUFkc5oaxtX9IDKo3pWA_aTCaHSO2sPmtQMtsOGiGtCt2hGUStfJq8hYyvdtzLd9tlukN74a2ieDkhDeR0vcE/s200/GURPS+4e+basic+set.jpg" width="150" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, onto the most unsought surprising game session: Many years ago, when I was first meeting and gaming with a few of my friends here in Victoria, we played a <b><i>GURPS</i></b> fantasy campaign that to be honest had very little interesting occur during it. Our band spent the vast majority of their time figuring out logistics at a small border outpost we were stationed at. Eventually the neighbouring kingdom declared war upon the kingdom we were apart of and marched its forces through the mountain pass our keep guarded. One of our players (the fighty knight guy) rode out with our force with the intent to meet the invaders in battle, but in a surprising twist (that had no foreshadowing as far as we were concerned) his force joined with the attackers and wiped the garrison and most of the other PCs completely out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Needless to say, several of us where quite butthurt at the switcheroo the player and GM pulled upon us with no hint or implication of treachery. I think pulling off that deception would've been far better had there been more player agency, even if it might've suffered a bit from metagame knowledge. In media, the audience is always given some hint when characters are being misled to build tension in the story and to make the final reveal more dramatic because the audience is privy to the details the characters where blind to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also it was plainly apparent the traitors' player just wanted to be the winner of what is basically a cooperative game. The campaign ended after that session.</span><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 5: Most Recent RPG Purchase</span></b></u><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is probably the easiest question to answer on this list because of how literal it is: For me that'd be <b><i>Weird Discoveries: Ten Instant Adventures for Numenera</i></b>. When I was browsing the shelves of my FLGS, I figured if I get the chance in the near future to run that <b>Numerena</b> <i>Boxed Set</i> I now have on short notice, having a book filled with low-prep adventures could be quite handy.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz56syzefxv-KxVTARtRkH0JeJwzBie8McyQCrzXrUo1weSsKUsJnxYgtz-y1kz6RHA1K4JkLymPikkB4hD0sxCt5XSzJ5f04FwMa-t8_ppws_2All_FQ8F-ZUh02v9MvNFCzxTQAoG-g/s1600/Weird+Discoveries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz56syzefxv-KxVTARtRkH0JeJwzBie8McyQCrzXrUo1weSsKUsJnxYgtz-y1kz6RHA1K4JkLymPikkB4hD0sxCt5XSzJ5f04FwMa-t8_ppws_2All_FQ8F-ZUh02v9MvNFCzxTQAoG-g/s1600/Weird+Discoveries.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whilst I was browsing, I very nearly bought the last copy of <b>Force & Destiny</b> instead, it being the third and final corebook of <i>FFG's</i> <b>Star Wars RPG</b> line, but decided it was out of my budget for the time being. But gosh, it was rather compelling with its gorgeous artwork and Force-relative mechanics.</span><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 6: Most Recent RPG Played</span></u></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The most recent RPG I played was the Sunday before last: It was a <b><i>3.x Dungeons & Dragons Forgotten Realms</i></b> adventure, <i>The Twilight Tomb</i>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I thought I sworn off the <i>d20 system</i>, but it keeps dragging me back in!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the session was rather... memorable to say the least.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORMIRf-Vd4EXPORo58XaPWgVz9XwDglYQTBtcxR0wY4cRXdWpo0k666KsLDU8Tza9wh4qALj7YIf12ROJPn2e7gfEge_-zctbXuppnw0nh2eODnZIsZdlZbdhbtOUYHdn7zN68QuavOU/s1600/The_Twilight_Tomb_%2528D%2526D_module%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORMIRf-Vd4EXPORo58XaPWgVz9XwDglYQTBtcxR0wY4cRXdWpo0k666KsLDU8Tza9wh4qALj7YIf12ROJPn2e7gfEge_-zctbXuppnw0nh2eODnZIsZdlZbdhbtOUYHdn7zN68QuavOU/s1600/The_Twilight_Tomb_%2528D%2526D_module%2529.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our all-human adventuring party (a bunch of bigoted xenophobes) consisted of a Paladin, Druid, Wizard, and myself playing a Barbarian (Dronk was both his name and what he was all the time). We began in town and took a couple jobs to find a stolen artefact and a missing nobleman's daughter respectively in this mysterious woods.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So after some preparation, we headed off to the forest but happened upon a random encounter before we arrived: Poking its head out from some shrub, was a (young, juvenile?) green dragon. Initially our party opted to flee rather than face this threat, but it somehow dominated our druid with a hypnotic gaze unexpected for one of its youth and commanded him to convince the rest of the party to ally with the dragon, which would then aid them on their quests for a "modest" share of the profit. The other members of the party weren't having it until the wizard also fell under its surprisingly powerful influence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After soaring through the air, circling us, the dragon finally landed nearby and unleashed a generous torrent of corrosive gas upon Dronk which sent him into a frothing rage and charging headlong at the wyrm, scoring a critical blow upon its scaly muzzle. Doing the lion's share of work, Dronk bloodied the dragon before it managed to gulp him down. As Dronk was slipping beyond the veil, the dragon realized it had bitten off more than it could chew and was now choking on the remains of the late barbarian.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can't recall if I had ever been in a campaign where my PC had been killed in the first session, but with Dronk having done most the heavy lifting his allies managed to slay the gagging beast and reap the benefits of the glory and its nearby hoard.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This session became even more memorable from the fact that the remaining trio stumbled into another random encounter with a nymph who ended up blinding the druid and wizard with her good looks, and went then out of her way to stalk the paladin who was purposely averting her gaze and was attempting to lead the two sightless fools to help when the nymph finally did away with the paladin with a sight her unearthly beauty.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two PCs dead. Two permanently blinded.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And it wasn't even a <b>Lamentations of the Flame Princess</b> or <b>Dungeon Crawl Classics</b> game.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yessiree. Memorable.</span><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 7: Favourite Free RPG</span></u></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENr6K72ov0B8TZYxMzIYdKkG46nEZQtjSm75VJLL8fYRhFGqlkCfkv9_4_PzVT_HJOqPLJK_vCQlDO1BvAMN6ELV3fYCmvQzesYYD2pxv0_vILcUxIXZJ5a0WjJ0qK5sHYdapCDjnO3g/s1600/44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is an uncountable number of Free RPGs available on the internet, some of which are legal, art-less or basic versions of the more well-known systems, such as <b>D&D 5e</b>, <b>Fate Core/Accelerated</b>, <b>Eclipse Phase</b>, <b>Labyrinth Lord</b>, <b>Laminations of the Flame Princess</b>, <b>Mythender</b>, etc. to name a few.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm going to confess, I don't recall ever having the chance to play an RPG that was free in all its forms, but I've certainly read many, one of which is <b><i><a href="http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/79290/44-A-Game-of-Automatic-Fear" target="_blank">44: A Game Of Automatic Fear</a></i></b>.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RS-53QEmZp10SCF-o2khCLh1htGTptSPNiNoyfzgzVCY9nPCy3ivJHHJcnhRXLnsf_sBC5AJ3d1zhLmV6tH0smen0pqn38UNjSr2izekmcX6njzxgSgYHVSZ-skEbSj-hX1dYNqUbsI/s1600/44.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RS-53QEmZp10SCF-o2khCLh1htGTptSPNiNoyfzgzVCY9nPCy3ivJHHJcnhRXLnsf_sBC5AJ3d1zhLmV6tH0smen0pqn38UNjSr2izekmcX6njzxgSgYHVSZ-skEbSj-hX1dYNqUbsI/s400/44.png" width="361" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The basic premise of </span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">44</b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> is its the 1950's and each character knows someone close to them who has been replaced by a robotic replica. Together the characters fight agents that seek to convert them and survive the overall conspiracy as the turns countdown to zero hour. Think along the lines of the original </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Invasion of the Body Snatchers</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Aside from being a great little free game that only clocks in at 36 pages, it's unique in that when a character falls to the robotic menace, he joins the conspiracy with the GM in opposition against the remaining players. I can imagine things can get pretty tense near the end.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still have a personal printed copy and I'd like to give it a shot sometime when I get the chance.</span><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 8: Favourite Appearance of RPGs in the Media</span></u></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The future was then.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chrome. Synth. Cyberspace. Neon. Hairspray.</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's not exactly pop culture or widely-spread media, damn but this promo video for <b>Shadowrun</b> called <i>'A Night's Work'</i> always cracks me up. It's just so awesomely <u><b>BAD</b></u>:</span><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 9: Favourite Media You Wish Was An RPG</span></u></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A tough choice, for the vast majority of RPGs have been at one point or another based upon an existing IP, so its quite difficult to look at a work in which I'm a fan of and easily state "one should make an RPG of that" without knowing, or at least presuming, its already happened.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are several existing ones I'd like to see new editions of with updated setting fluff or a wholly modernized system (<i>Discworld</i>, <i>Hellboy</i>), but many generic systems do exist so enterprising GM's could port such material if they desire.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But in this busy world, what GM has time any more to convert a whole setting and figure out any well-themed mechanics anyway?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFWCG7Sw1NJ8_dRJ_-plyeMUpHtZ5vdHJDKg7jZnlKSK9T1EtadOviEULA-YQlGvx2szP4zLIuFYjZADMEivSzi1TP2EPeYArrrO4s8gYZysQ2D2JqdEdL-oVGok8IkNBKYABs_jjho6Y/s1600/fallout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFWCG7Sw1NJ8_dRJ_-plyeMUpHtZ5vdHJDKg7jZnlKSK9T1EtadOviEULA-YQlGvx2szP4zLIuFYjZADMEivSzi1TP2EPeYArrrO4s8gYZysQ2D2JqdEdL-oVGok8IkNBKYABs_jjho6Y/s400/fallout.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That said, here's two series I quite enjoy that have yet to get an official tabletop RPG: The first is the <b><i>Fallout</i></b> series, and the second is the <b><i>BioShock</i></b> series. Both video games have already established rich and detailed settings, along with unique concepts that just beg to be supported by interesting mechanics, making them both prime for book-n-dice versions.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6dMatnaQArHeqBlZUBDVvyYTN8rLaq4xRr0sfE2AMlwpo8Ewsq-zg4FqG34AIONxTvKLle5an892fLTu3Y84CXv0dh22ibcnFUOhyphenhyphenHv2AHOImnYqJikbOWv2S5K_SJ3cEhV0wugd49Jo/s1600/bioshock_poster_by_slaizen-d3bifor.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6dMatnaQArHeqBlZUBDVvyYTN8rLaq4xRr0sfE2AMlwpo8Ewsq-zg4FqG34AIONxTvKLle5an892fLTu3Y84CXv0dh22ibcnFUOhyphenhyphenHv2AHOImnYqJikbOWv2S5K_SJ3cEhV0wugd49Jo/s640/bioshock_poster_by_slaizen-d3bifor.png" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm sure that both franchise owners would like to keep them in the realm of electronic games where the money supposedly is, but I think playing in either that particular post-apocalyptic or dystopian world with a band of players around a table would be a hoot and much more social than sitting in front of a screen.</span><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 10: Favourite RPG Publisher</span></u></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Y-qid_XFTaFpAI8MRp_GckofBLXS_gOvZ418WajgZJcnJ_L8SvMfLsUIm6rUmXps8Uje-LMjgEZeIBYhyyAQ9iXOSxZZYQSBSQk1brS0JDWRBkzU2lDP8QypMmJqAjArXAIjPNS4uO0/s1600/black_goat_games_logo_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Y-qid_XFTaFpAI8MRp_GckofBLXS_gOvZ418WajgZJcnJ_L8SvMfLsUIm6rUmXps8Uje-LMjgEZeIBYhyyAQ9iXOSxZZYQSBSQk1brS0JDWRBkzU2lDP8QypMmJqAjArXAIjPNS4uO0/s320/black_goat_games_logo_1.jpg" width="242" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can play the favouritism game when it comes to RPG products themselves, but not so much to the companies that create them; just because publisher X made a favourite of mine shouldn't automatically make them my choice, at least in my opinion.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Publishers are a creative collective of individuals and they all have their perks and quirks, but unlike the majority of their products, we can't fully know them by just viewing them. Me judging publishers solely upon their product seems a bit unfair, not being privy to all that insider baseball.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So instead of being fair and impartial I'm going to shamelessly plug local indie-publisher <b><i><a href="http://blackgoatgames.com/" target="_blank">Black Goat Games</a></i></b> instead; partially because it's the only publisher in which I own a wicked company shirt and also in hope the owner will get off his laurels give up some fresh grimdark goodness!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe a couple more patrons would motivate the slumbering goat-lord into spawning new horrors.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>Day 11: Favourite RPG Writer</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rich Burlew. Not for any of his actual RPG writing credits, but his RPG-related webcomic <b><i><a href="http://www.giantitp.com/Comics.html" target="_blank">Order of the Stick</a></i></b>. This absolutely brilliant series has been going as long as I've been out of high-school, which is nearly a decade (September 29th for the comic).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Long live <i><b>Order of the Stick</b></i>!</span><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 12: Favourite RPG Illustration</span></u></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh wow, what an impossible question for me to answer. As the owner of quite a large extensive RPG library, many of those books are brimming with gorgeous art. Selecting a single work out of all that, combined with the existing art I've seen for games I don't own, seems inconceivable. There's too many amazing things to choose from.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZIMHyuV0ZqiuoMqWqtZKTFDM1dkz4qB1QMmDu8RZeY1bbaAN2Ysow_DyEI3VCqEdBNcMYDoqphWtf1itp2yHUNoJ2PvGrzi7r9K1gNKEgnCzjVtFxpGvxPt2CL40nABtuNvNKf4zqHAw/s1600/2015-08-12+15.00.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZIMHyuV0ZqiuoMqWqtZKTFDM1dkz4qB1QMmDu8RZeY1bbaAN2Ysow_DyEI3VCqEdBNcMYDoqphWtf1itp2yHUNoJ2PvGrzi7r9K1gNKEgnCzjVtFxpGvxPt2CL40nABtuNvNKf4zqHAw/s640/2015-08-12+15.00.11.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I'm going to go with this piece by <a href="http://kieranyanner.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">Kieran Yanner</a> I received in the <b>Numenera</b> <i>Boxed Set</i> as it's limited print signed by <i><a href="http://www.montecook.com/" target="_blank">Monte Cook</a></i> and <i><a href="http://www.shannagermain.com/" target="_blank">Shanna Germain</a></i>, and thus the only piece of RPG art to soon be framed and hung on my wall.</span><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 13: Favourite RPG Podcast</span></u></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My top RPG-related podcasts would be <i><a href="http://www.kenandrobintalkaboutstuff.com/" target="_blank">Ken and Robin Talk About Stuff</a></i>, <i><a href="http://www.earwolf.com/show/nerd-poker/" target="_blank">Nerd Poker</a></i>, <i><a href="http://numenerathesignal.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank">Numenera: The Signal</a></i>, <i><a href="http://saveordie.info/" target="_blank">The Save or Die Podcast</a></i>, and <i><a href="http://thetabletopsuperhighway.com/" target="_blank">The Tabletop Superhighway</a></i>. I have countless others sitting on my feed, but I haven't taken the time to listen to them yet. That's the tricky thing about podcasts, I only listen to them when I have the free time and my attention isn't focused elsewhere.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, my favourite would have to be the <b><i><a href="http://start.d20radio.com/home/the-order-66-podcast" target="_blank">Order 66 Podcast</a></i></b>: Originally a show about content and advice for the <b>Star Wars: Saga Edition RPG</b> back in 2008, it's focus has switched over to the recent <i>FFG</i> edition. This was first podcast I ever listened to and what originally got me into podcasts.</span><br />
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Shame I didn't have time to answer all the questions; oh well, there's always next year!<br />
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Cheers! ;{١</h4>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-11988519040627244932015-08-31T19:00:00.000-07:002016-01-17T00:01:25.362-08:00Kampi's Saga: Queen’s Day Tournament - Uberland<span style="font-family: inherit;">Another entry of </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Kampi's Saga</a>.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> A little late on this entry, the weekend prior was the <u>Queen's Day Tournament</u>, a day long event hosted by the kingdom of Uberland in honour of their Queen. I had family visiting so I didn't attend </span><b style="font-family: inherit;"><i>MC</i></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> this Saturday, but Kampi now has an amazing round shield that I </span>received<span style="font-family: inherit;"> as a gift! Pics sooner or later. </span><br />
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</span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The third D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of Wodin</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of the Harvest</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315</span></b><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Ansuz</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Wodin</i>, the All-Father</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Æsir</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Communication, Divinity, Wisdom</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Blessings, Inspiration, Insight</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Illusions, Manipulation, Misinterpretation</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following close in the wake of the Festival of Osis, the end of this past week Dagger Deep was host to yet another tournament day; this time to honour the birth of the Queen of the realm of Uberland, who was unfortunately unable to attend, but her husband, King Rife, did make an appearance.</span></div>
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Before the events of the tournament began that day, I had a long sagacious discussion with my fighter friend Higgs, who is a credit to his profession given that most lack the wisdom and insight he possesses. Whilst we conversed outside the duelling ring, his attention was drawn to the severed head I kept at my hip, and I told him the story of it and he listened intently. At the conclusion of my tale and after his first hand observations, we together made numerous profound speculations on the nature of the creature this once belonged to:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Perhaps the most simplest remark that he made now seems so obvious that I feel an utter fool for not noticing it despite all the time I'd spent with it: He noted that although the head has two eye sockets, it only had one eye, for the left eyelid had fully grown shut. We further ruminated over other marks of its form: Again, it's pronounced ears seem to speak of goblinoid lineage. It's prominent brow and cheek ridges are rather predatory in look. It's nose though is unlike a goblin or ork, being that it's rather bulbous and the arch of it flat and wide. The jawline is like that of a man and the lips; now sewn together may appear meek, but I recall them barely covering the prominent fangs before I bashed them out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We remarked upon the matter that despite coming into possession of this thing over two moons ago, aside from the noticeable reduction in odour, its hasn't rotted as any severed body part should naturally. This sign, when coupled with the ominous dream I had before the strange circumstances where I acquiring it, that the ivory capillaries on the back of the skull (which reminded Higgs of similar looking veins the Illodian mage, Vash Jar, suffered during a magical experiment of his going wrong), and the druid Nash determined that it faintly emanates some sort of magical aura, that not only the head but perhaps the creature itself was of supernatural provenance.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Upon the culmination of this new knowledge, a resounding sense of dread grew within me when it all pointed to a singular thought in my mind: Could this <i>thing</i> have been an progeny of the <i>Ruler of Asgard</i> himself?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All this evidence (the omens, the single eye, the dream, the faint enchantment), pointed toward that conclusion; though I searched desperately for a comforting doubt, somehow I knew it could be true.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">If that was the truth, it was one that raised additional questions, the paramount amongst them being 'why would the <i>All-Father</i> create such a monstrous creature, unleash it upon the unsuspecting folk of Bella, and then lead a loyal votary to that benighted settlement to meet and slay it in deadly combat?' Just as an arbitrary test of one's mettle and convictions? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One cannot claim to know the motives of the gods and of the <i>Æsir</i>, <i>Wodin,</i> is perhaps the most mysterious and unpredictable, but it</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> appalled</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> me to my very core to think that the people of Bella suffered because of a mere trial of my resoluteness. The thought was enough to make me consider renouncing my faith...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I had the chance I professed this troubling revelation to Relan as soon as possible, under the original pretence of discussing the nature of divine servants; angels and demons as they are commonly referred to here, though he was quick to admit angels are a rare thing to visit this realm compared to demons.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When he inquired to my line of questioning, I told him of the realizations I had concerning the purpose of my voyage north, the events there, and the token that returned with me, and how I was distressed by the possible ramifications.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Relan's wisdom seems boundless for he allayed my concerns with a single of phrase: He stated it was his staunch belief that although many societies may portray them as such, not all the members of races deemed ugly or savage are born malicious and evil; and thus perhaps it was the curse of undeath that drove it from a perhaps normally seclusive nature to one violence and destruction.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I quickly grasped the meaning of his statements; if this were true, perhaps it was my fate by </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">the will of </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">All-Father</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> to end this beings torment and prevent it from bringing further calamity</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One cannot imagine the relief this interpretation gave me; my faith had been restored. I was further honoured and humbled to be the apprentice to such a wise teacher.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhatmaj6fglVD88FHiEx9qxqSzhg0UugA_eqEyXUOQF4Si_P0x65-OTJPBFpODUeYzC-HOEIio7ckqfYMDXn6hIRrYBjUe_utJFJg_6Rdp9_Dk7aahXyN6MoV_mn00ZLZvd35ZtXDZrA04/s1600/Mordog_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhatmaj6fglVD88FHiEx9qxqSzhg0UugA_eqEyXUOQF4Si_P0x65-OTJPBFpODUeYzC-HOEIio7ckqfYMDXn6hIRrYBjUe_utJFJg_6Rdp9_Dk7aahXyN6MoV_mn00ZLZvd35ZtXDZrA04/s400/Mordog_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A humorous aside: The <i>jötunn</i>, Mordag, believed himself a hound after sampling one of his <br />
experimental herbal concoctions. Many began referring to him jokingly as 'Mor-dog'.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Another occurrence of note, was the recurrence of the former Black Rose member Dimitri, who spoke his undoubtedly honeyed poison to any willing to treat with that traitorous blackguard. If it were not for the respect of the laws of society (the decree of outlawery, written by the late Hand of King Wilumarius, Marcus, has since disappeared), I might have been moved to action against him. Instead I watched him closely from a distance whenever possible, attempting to discern the true motives beneath his pleas for forgiveness on his past misdeeds.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwaShWySvLTANyQHHKDyFtSOFJdWEGKbvBxBhx_Q-UWigxNcP5WZSnA-aW7iKG1M8oFix4Nk2Ectu6gkOoQ3V3eI5HGASGWaNjKV-FKRJX_TdeADjCiVi8mOFnlQEzZHMenoiLm3nrVfA/s1600/Dimitri_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwaShWySvLTANyQHHKDyFtSOFJdWEGKbvBxBhx_Q-UWigxNcP5WZSnA-aW7iKG1M8oFix4Nk2Ectu6gkOoQ3V3eI5HGASGWaNjKV-FKRJX_TdeADjCiVi8mOFnlQEzZHMenoiLm3nrVfA/s640/Dimitri_drawn.jpg" width="473" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dimitri, 'reformed' ex-member of the Black Rose</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Many I spoke with trust Dimitri as much as I do, which is little to none. Even Relan, who preaches of redemption, is quick to agree that the time for that scoundrel's absolution has most likely passed, particularly when I noted that he still bore the hand taken from Rosalia a fortnight past; a physical link to his former master, Sakacuron. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For this and more, he reminds me of the <i>Sly One</i> in too many ways, and for that I watch him all the more closely above the rest.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Onto the event itself:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The tournament was more casual than Osis Day and the format was different, though there were some similarities: Separate fighting rings for those wielding swords and shields, polearms, and a ring for magic casters which later became anything-goes; some fighting each other armed also with their abilities as well as weapons, some wrestled, etc. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWK7hkqYnzdc2GxqBqfaZmb_CPaSWGEQDJitXJtMcKDS7RbJjkLHZLNy4oWeJfgbeKw977qAkErQ63u9yyCTIE6XDWfLhX3IeyigIhxR3CEbmNlOhyphenhyphenclWPFvNDqK58KPreu-XqZkPMi0w/s1600/Claudia_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWK7hkqYnzdc2GxqBqfaZmb_CPaSWGEQDJitXJtMcKDS7RbJjkLHZLNy4oWeJfgbeKw977qAkErQ63u9yyCTIE6XDWfLhX3IeyigIhxR3CEbmNlOhyphenhyphenclWPFvNDqK58KPreu-XqZkPMi0w/s640/Claudia_drawn.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An old 'friend', Claudia, wielding a glave-like polearm.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What made many of the martial events differ from the previous tournament that marks were awarded to those who drew first blood in each weapon duel, complete defeat in the case of the magic/anything-goes ring, or forcing one's opponent out of the ring by wrestling. There was also a quest to locate and gather hidden gems of varying sizes, which were then traded to the event hosts for points: uncut pebbles were worth a single point; small cut gems, three points; large cut gems, five points; and the lone massive cut gem a score of points.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMB8Y7P7GgpsLTXtXY9s1Kk4Grms4PHHhEwE9Z7PubCi1OW7hLgMgt4QvNogrRdZajRIPcWWxQVD_TOmK8s-C8C6jOwUbj-udrAJeuiYJw7lx440C8qoY5D1qJ9qZkzCRlZKu-Hw9f88/s1600/Ivar+Ironsinger_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMB8Y7P7GgpsLTXtXY9s1Kk4Grms4PHHhEwE9Z7PubCi1OW7hLgMgt4QvNogrRdZajRIPcWWxQVD_TOmK8s-C8C6jOwUbj-udrAJeuiYJw7lx440C8qoY5D1qJ9qZkzCRlZKu-Hw9f88/s400/Ivar+Ironsinger_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ivar Ironsinger was a surprisingly good archer, for a dwarf.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Another archery contest also made an appearance, and though I journeyed to town this time equipped with my own bow and arrows, I didn't have the opportunity to participate meaningfully in the archery contest during the event, for I spent much of my time talking with several folks and participating the field sport where the two teams attempted to capture the flag belonging to the opposing force. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHD3XRTjzAlLe_7qekvVnOOcmE1LBLofrhV2m_fRZeNV9knbiDQJs42asIyVDvxtNVGxCiqs6Cow_Bhoo-5yjST8qi_vbnpwqKUtG2vv9bAnvWVol-qpO1pPTJtzaU3yS_dNpyZCo9daY/s1600/Kampi+Bow+Shot_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHD3XRTjzAlLe_7qekvVnOOcmE1LBLofrhV2m_fRZeNV9knbiDQJs42asIyVDvxtNVGxCiqs6Cow_Bhoo-5yjST8qi_vbnpwqKUtG2vv9bAnvWVol-qpO1pPTJtzaU3yS_dNpyZCo9daY/s400/Kampi+Bow+Shot_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I did spent some time once the contest was concluded practising</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> my skills with a bow: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdEi5TCCY-qWo4o1UCC4-y1tYeLE0kr7EyMRznoRdQ8spnBCBBYWgtO1-uaRDJoNjJ6AMWNFwRZ3YIx6juoxBXcDj0-qhNHUu8JwPp4_gNBpQWtoK-5qDS5JIvoTdP9hmODf9r5rIn9o/s1600/Ajax+Cocking_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdEi5TCCY-qWo4o1UCC4-y1tYeLE0kr7EyMRznoRdQ8spnBCBBYWgtO1-uaRDJoNjJ6AMWNFwRZ3YIx6juoxBXcDj0-qhNHUu8JwPp4_gNBpQWtoK-5qDS5JIvoTdP9hmODf9r5rIn9o/s400/Ajax+Cocking_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The cocksure-and-carefree warrior Ajax allowed several of us to try out his dwarven crossbow; I found it relatively easy to use; but I had wary feelings about such a potentially powerful weapon of war required so little training or mastery to easily end lives.</span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JmY4r0pHX3XnKrzls5XHccTcUGgyuOLO2_EzxK8TNUKI5KM8iou50Ew92nqTqf6WSrrlu7MQfZwErWCZ-2jpE1Dp7KDOgXP4ScYl-0rTzMSlraFf0xgeklu73zmH_ySIYphDvDPJ0jY/s1600/Erin_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JmY4r0pHX3XnKrzls5XHccTcUGgyuOLO2_EzxK8TNUKI5KM8iou50Ew92nqTqf6WSrrlu7MQfZwErWCZ-2jpE1Dp7KDOgXP4ScYl-0rTzMSlraFf0xgeklu73zmH_ySIYphDvDPJ0jY/s400/Erin_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ajax's apprentice, Erin, from a place called Averland, taking aim.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0tktUSx3jiLUl5mNBCMmPP_6pSmLryaTJUfEvy42rPplm6TLNK-isBq-J8nRESf04iDaudWpmNbRe78cT2zhAOl-VQ8Vqr4V8K42yscsNNQ_yPupZDFy2n2IquW5OkrOFFQpaWAI1rpE/s1600/Duggan+Aiming_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0tktUSx3jiLUl5mNBCMmPP_6pSmLryaTJUfEvy42rPplm6TLNK-isBq-J8nRESf04iDaudWpmNbRe78cT2zhAOl-VQ8Vqr4V8K42yscsNNQ_yPupZDFy2n2IquW5OkrOFFQpaWAI1rpE/s400/Duggan+Aiming_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Uberlandian barbarian Duggan lining up a shot.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All contests awarded points: the rings awarded five points to each victor, a single to each loser; archery scored points from the distance of the target: one for close, three for middling, and five for the farthest; the winning team in capturing the flag per round was awarded twenty to each surviving participant, half that number to the victorious</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> dead, and three to each member of the losing team.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After the eighth hour, all of these contests were concluded, the total accrued points for each participant were counted and the top three victors were announced: Kendrid the ardent warrior (also one of the tolerated vampires of the Deep), and Persius the gladiator (and this year's champion of the Festival of Osis), and </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Boz, master of the flaming spheres</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A series of pitched mock battles were then announced to take place in Ork's Field. Alternating, Boz and Kendrid assembled their teams; I, along with my friend Higgs and Ajax's apprentice, Erin, where selected for Kendrid's force.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCS9AfX1FZbjySNmgpDW1AVRM8Ef7X0ICBPMYeg3c2dOk7_j7ITpo77GVt35BC772bR1ffLlo3ub3OTYOaHpZZq59caHEEKL_Yu_1teYJem8dPlS0WFolG3AemQMeTmoQRLynpSSpSOA/s1600/Kendrid+vs+Ivar_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCS9AfX1FZbjySNmgpDW1AVRM8Ef7X0ICBPMYeg3c2dOk7_j7ITpo77GVt35BC772bR1ffLlo3ub3OTYOaHpZZq59caHEEKL_Yu_1teYJem8dPlS0WFolG3AemQMeTmoQRLynpSSpSOA/s400/Kendrid+vs+Ivar_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kendrid against Ivar.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though I am wary of Kendrid's vampirism (I suffered more than once from his maddened blood-thirst) he is an distinguished tactician, for he led our side to victory twice over our designated foe by effectively deploying us on the field of battle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6RSuGnDmge9UjnGs4zTm3T32Mh2vxwKKE3cEun5rq7lGoVaFzoMIojjR3TKMehajYg4wYxm9TyOFdfoibOlt5sY1dCEZzyJ3X-XwiATrL-vpw6Y6NdsIq7iQq4dmDiQPQyUVdrSGHwhY/s1600/Ajax+Aiming_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6RSuGnDmge9UjnGs4zTm3T32Mh2vxwKKE3cEun5rq7lGoVaFzoMIojjR3TKMehajYg4wYxm9TyOFdfoibOlt5sY1dCEZzyJ3X-XwiATrL-vpw6Y6NdsIq7iQq4dmDiQPQyUVdrSGHwhY/s400/Ajax+Aiming_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ajax, as to be expected, was deadly accurate with his crossbow.<br />
He felled several opponents (myself included) during the pitched battles.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following the pitched battles, a final event remained; a 'gauntlet': the top three were to be put through the trial of making their way from the hillock by wood henge to the cryer's post where the first to retrieve the pennon there would be crowned champion of Queen's Day. Between them and their goal, were armed participants of whose goal was to prevent them from achieving theirs. Each time one of the three fell to wounds, they were renewed at their starting place by magics.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">During several crafty attempts by Boz and many bold ones by Persius, Kendrid prowled around the outskirts of the whole town, altered his attire to deceptively approach under the cover of dusk, and make a final dash for the banner and grabbed it before he could be stopped; thus he was titled champion of Queen's Day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-M-_HD0_AYY4FlnbEl6ien-ev47sjors-7NHmAL49W4U8ppgyLVgI1l0369s9E6W7DeGG0j3kXS4C4gOf-mKvt8WivxRPsWyAVXfQXjwe40rFmL_iW1ZGLvv9wWNPihWGZjvmEbPJDo/s1600/Inebrius_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-M-_HD0_AYY4FlnbEl6ien-ev47sjors-7NHmAL49W4U8ppgyLVgI1l0369s9E6W7DeGG0j3kXS4C4gOf-mKvt8WivxRPsWyAVXfQXjwe40rFmL_iW1ZGLvv9wWNPihWGZjvmEbPJDo/s640/Inebrius_drawn.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gladiator, Inebrius, enjoying one of many of his drinks that day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following the tournament:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHu1o5Dg8BDBUlXuR7Of10kiQtzL_c7Ip1wqgOx4e0V_0OA815YOKMDRsug4sRt6sosIQc67qBvsXg9jMGSOiEsUi4sJbiEXIjJqi5t55ay1yMStwAE4hu6JeKDtZOLajANJRR10oWF_w/s1600/Brynn_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHu1o5Dg8BDBUlXuR7Of10kiQtzL_c7Ip1wqgOx4e0V_0OA815YOKMDRsug4sRt6sosIQc67qBvsXg9jMGSOiEsUi4sJbiEXIjJqi5t55ay1yMStwAE4hu6JeKDtZOLajANJRR10oWF_w/s200/Brynn_drawn.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A stern Brynn</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After twilight had fallen, as I sat down in the tavern, preparing to sup upon the repast I had brought, Relan mentioned to me during his visit his intent to assist his fellow clergy member Sprig and her compatriots in the Wild Ones band on a potentially dangerous otherworldly ritual to summon forth the being known as the 'Soul-Eater' that had of recently slain the warrior Sir Kalliades Draco. Ferdinand was to preform the complex blood ritual inside wood henge; priestess Sprig, gladiator Persius, shield-maiden Brynn, and another fighter were to slay the creature and recover Kalliades' soul. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The group wanted to risk no more than the five of them inside the magical barrier with the summoned being; though there was high chance that if they were defeated/Ferdinand was slain, the barrier which kept them inside but also kept others out would drop and the Soul-Eater would then be unleashed upon Dagger Deep. An endeavour fraught with peril, for not only did they risk their own souls should they fail, they gambled the lives of the Deep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Relan, I, and several others were then mostly present for moral support, guarding the ritual from outside interference, and on the off chance assaulting and killing the being if the Wild Ones' own attempt did fail. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once Ferdinand preformed the ritual, not one, but two beings were brought forth into the circle. The four combatants engaged them and those of us able to illuminated their foes with rays of light. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Qx79xiIoJwIGovn8JwLnuzKRwK-DoMP7wfdOESwxxaLhFGPt6xrkFXr-0gnJ_I9rImnF7peWc-aeK07VA5XnR0DpoU2ZQsUO3ZxJfAbHyNcn6JfE79gKcUPHP02KoTo9lBQZOgc0A2E/s1600/Sprig%2527s+sketch_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Qx79xiIoJwIGovn8JwLnuzKRwK-DoMP7wfdOESwxxaLhFGPt6xrkFXr-0gnJ_I9rImnF7peWc-aeK07VA5XnR0DpoU2ZQsUO3ZxJfAbHyNcn6JfE79gKcUPHP02KoTo9lBQZOgc0A2E/s400/Sprig%2527s+sketch_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">A sketch Sprig drew of the ritual</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following a tense battle in which our heroes nearly succumbed</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, they succeeded in bringing down both creatures and retrieving the soul of their comrade and leader Kallides. All present no longer had to wait with baited breathes, and once the barrier was down this brave group was met with praise, respect, and relief from their peers and companions. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Relan must be very proud of his pupil and I have even more respect and admiration for Sprig, whose selfless sacrifice is beyond anything I have witnessed. I am blessed to know them both and have them as close friends.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As my master and I made to leave the town, I began to think that the ordeal that Relan had to watch his former apprentice go through, coupled with the recent passing of his former master Marcus and all the other recent hardship, are beginning to take their toll on the bishop of <i>Ithus</i>; signs of physical and mental exhaustion are becoming apparent, from his weary actions, repeated remarks, and his refusal to pause from his research, stating that he will not be late again with priority knowledge. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I related my concerns to him and pleaded that he get much needed rest and respite.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This land doesn't need to lose another one of its few shining beacons to darkness.</span><br />
<br />
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>-Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-79491410568813806562015-08-19T17:30:00.000-07:002015-12-10T21:36:55.819-08:00Kampi's Saga: Information Gathering<span style="font-family: inherit;">Compared to last week's entry, this entry of </span><a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank"><b>Kampi's Saga</b></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, is somewhat shorter since I was NPCing most of this mission and Kampi was only present pre- and post- mission, though he does </span>relate<span style="font-family: inherit;"> several </span>unfortunate<span style="font-family: inherit;"> turns of events. </span><br />
<br />
<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The third D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of Wodin </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of the Harvest </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315 </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2ViXphzM8L7h7x69SPyTJwabdRheik4tjJLQ_UQz3B4ayhyphenhyphenF9G2B3mSqIwdqCsqCSaaFAF02eZOdD7Jtl_JQtZU7xIhrOS5TkMR8QehjgMGa7EdWNVy6DSREXRe8qy90LcVMwqpDBb4/s1600/Thurisaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimqoxLvESj17rpwnmeUaR9d260aMrsnlxVs_bT8nxQ9ehJboZ3hDLWmMvN9DF4Q2cIrNvry39naYb3dsx-G8cMKUfCwBWq8TbWztdrJLwcIE6TUtPesnYD9VC7jkyjRsGPj955TxU7niA/s1600/Ansuz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimqoxLvESj17rpwnmeUaR9d260aMrsnlxVs_bT8nxQ9ehJboZ3hDLWmMvN9DF4Q2cIrNvry39naYb3dsx-G8cMKUfCwBWq8TbWztdrJLwcIE6TUtPesnYD9VC7jkyjRsGPj955TxU7niA/s1600/Ansuz_Rune.gif" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Ansuz</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Wodin</i>, the All-Father</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> a god</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Communication, Divinity, Wisdom</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Blessings, Inspiration, Insight</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Illusions, Manipulation, Misinterpretation</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Four days past, the legendary holy warrior, <i><b>Marcus Quintus Titus</b>,</i> departed from this mortal realm.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTNxVYi0LjHplrIFsXDwYHT-M5dwjMrKnKlzF19Syx-aZ_U9yXXB9afMrz0RF4t_r6WcpI6gvEMQmRlR3vhXfzyo6-xz2kcFfKhLueDQLn3TDhypUGnMAYUdEFRLzTLUOgpA-9ZbaMRI/s1600/Death+of+Marcus2_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTNxVYi0LjHplrIFsXDwYHT-M5dwjMrKnKlzF19Syx-aZ_U9yXXB9afMrz0RF4t_r6WcpI6gvEMQmRlR3vhXfzyo6-xz2kcFfKhLueDQLn3TDhypUGnMAYUdEFRLzTLUOgpA-9ZbaMRI/s640/Death+of+Marcus2_drawn.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dentellai "Ravensfuri" Imladrim, Princess of Ter'Solma, cradling the head of the late Marcus.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I have been told by many, Marcus was noble soldier in the service of his god and his liege, whose reputation far preceded himself. I deeply regret missing my chance ever meeting this man face to face; I was given a opportunity that very day when both the paladin of Cheeba, Seremen, and the Mare of the town both approached me on separate occasions with the inquiry of myself being employed in the town guard (which saw very few of since my return; their numbers before then were dwindling).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though I <strike>was</strike> am quite honoured to have been singled out for the duty of keeping order in that somewhat benighted town, I had already failed myself as a reliable individual by putting off my intended meeting with the Hand of King Wilumarius until after I had returned from what was to be a brief journey to Uberland with my friend Seppo.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I finally returned later than expected, I soon heard the terrible news of his untimely passing from my best friend Tobias. I had missed my chance to meet with a legend by my foolish decision to briefly postpone that meeting. A harsh lesson to learn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unsurprisingly, many around me are aggrieved from the news of his passing, and all that I am able to do is give feeble support; I cannot even begin to fathom the sorrow of those closest to him, having never met him myself. I am unsure if it is by my own actions or just fated that I may always remain an outsider in this land; a mere observer of events or hearing them second-hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My mentor, Relan, was once his apprentice; I can tell he was still somewhat in shock by the revelation. I have only witnessed him being fully emotional once since I've known him in our relatively short time together, but when he rambled to me late that evening, his steady rational tone belied hints of deep mourning. His concerns touched upon the final destination of Marcus' soul when it was driven from his vessel: hopefully to a much deserved rest with his god <i>Mitra</i>, and not being wrongly cursed to the Abyss. Relan, seeker and obtainer of knowledge, has heard rumours of either.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He also touched upon his concern of recent news of Marcus' lost son; once believed to be dead, he still may live. Though Marcus denied this Gaius of being his real son, Relan states he feels compelled to find him if the rumour of his survival proves true, and take him as his ward in belief that there was a small part of Marcus who still held hope that it was his son.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The pair of us, during our late night rumination, met with the final apprentice of the late paladin, Ariha, who was deep in morning, listlessly bearing the steel helm of her master. My offer of deepest condolences sounded hollow and meaningless when it left my lips. She, as the prophet of her faith and the now lone Mitrite, relayed to Relan that she felt Marcus' soul <u>had</u> gone to <i>Mitra</i>, but she expressed her dismay at the prospect of that Gaius may still live, for it would dishearten Marcus not to see both his wife and their son in Elysium (the afterlife Mitrites believe in).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">How did this whole tragedy occur? I should start with the beginning of the days events...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I arrived to Dagger Deep with my friend Seppo in tow, who had been from these lands nearly as long I had. He was still quite reticent journeying here after the savage attacks he suffered last time by were-creatures, but I promised I would do my best to safeguard him whilst he discovered what had happened to the shop he shared with his business partner Claudia.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I strode into the Deep, I was greeted by a </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">young elven girl I had not seen since I had left over two months ago. It warmed my heart to see the shining face and receive the lovingly embrace Sprig after all that time apart. After a few pleasantries were exchanged, I briefly departed to attend to Seppo's errand.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Speaking with the seamstress Azreal (whose business now dwelt in the shop), she sheepishly claimed that Claudia was 'gone'. Easily knowing that she wasn't telling the whole truth, I pressed her further and she told the answers I bore would be answered by the new barkeep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I later encountered this alewife, I quickly discovered she was again my old acquaintance Talon in another guise, this time as 'Takumura'; a name which she claimed was a family title. Whether this claim is actually getting closer to the truth of her heritage or yet another façade, I have yet to tell. Regardless, I left Seppo, who was kind enough to repair my right vambrace with a crude tools he had available (a testament to his skill as a craftsman) to sort the business details out with his (former?) partner whilst I met and talked again with Sprig; we were soon joined by Relan.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The discussion between us soon turned to one of concern over the nature of 'Infernal' and 'Abyssal' mana, which Relan had confused during our previous talks but now explained in full: This Infernal mana, as it is now known, is a parasitic threat to divine casters, as it relentlessly consumes the energy granted by the deities to their agents, neither side being able to sever the link. Abyssal mana was what certain beings hailing from the Abyss used to fuel their spells, concentrated within crystalline shards.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As our conversation came to an end, I saw a familiar face: It was that of Elfranco, young adherent to the god <i>Thor</i> (not the bloodthirsty deity known as <i>Korne</i>, but the true <i>Guardian of Midgard</i>). Since my time away, I was delighted to hear he had begun tutelage under a new teacher, though I was somewhat disconcerted he still seemed rather meek in his convictions and admitted he knew very little about the faith of his new master, whom he only knew as a woman named 'Scout', a name I did not recognize.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a philosophic discussion where I attempted to engage Elfranco's contemplation, using the lessons I recently learned from events of the previous week, we joined in on a teaching Relan was giving in divine runes. From there we parted briefly was until we unexpected met again outside the court when Relan had inquiries with Marcus. There, below the high steps of the court, I learned that Elfranco's mentor, this 'Scout', was actually Marcus' apprentice, Ariha. Surely, <i>the Norns</i> had woven together the strands of all the fates present.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgDULltJliZJghr1idnHbaPGFpHiQ6GBaPPiojVrKBl8NucYaPh_2lvWgkm3mSxzrPtEHX92wO4OfItkw766JRN4TAw7f7Y-IOualUpv_607bDHlkN2cnrvBhyMM-OguYHCUpEzQFlVU/s1600/Ariha_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgDULltJliZJghr1idnHbaPGFpHiQ6GBaPPiojVrKBl8NucYaPh_2lvWgkm3mSxzrPtEHX92wO4OfItkw766JRN4TAw7f7Y-IOualUpv_607bDHlkN2cnrvBhyMM-OguYHCUpEzQFlVU/s640/Ariha_drawn.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ariha, the last apprentice of Marcus and the sole remaining Mitrite.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Perhaps revealing a certain reluctance at feeling unprepared for taking upon an apprentice of her own, she relayed to Elfranco he was welcome if he felt it more appropriate to study under me; overhearing this, I politely injected I was still under tutelage to Relan myself and would be unable to do so even if Elfranco wished it: Though he is a follower of one of the <i>Æsir</i>, I feel that both these somewhat insecure souls might learn from each other.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Relan and I made to depart from the town, for he desired to continue his research into the foreboding events, and I promised to escort Seppo to Uberland whilst he retrieved some of his smithing equipment. When we was taking our leave, that was when the enquiries to my possible enlistment in the town guard were made and I made my regretful decision not to follow up on them and personally meet with the legendary soul now lost to us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<hr />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM2Ygc06JHZOfqpxTjWvHDl8cHEimWKezln1Rp-8OHSrOMS713EIQPqH0uvQlminw9a3lbyg56FIaLU-eAGRMSKwuO4WZisHSNF7sOwL9MJ6hu6YB96jF7Kmxq68-tw8KEXs1y9ap5TEE/s1600/C%2526A_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM2Ygc06JHZOfqpxTjWvHDl8cHEimWKezln1Rp-8OHSrOMS713EIQPqH0uvQlminw9a3lbyg56FIaLU-eAGRMSKwuO4WZisHSNF7sOwL9MJ6hu6YB96jF7Kmxq68-tw8KEXs1y9ap5TEE/s200/C%2526A_drawn.jpg" width="148" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I returned at last with Seppo, it had already grown dark. Our late journey back from Uberland had been further delayed on the account the sole of my boot had become dislodged, impeding our progress, forcing us to halt and affect limited repairs upon it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Seppo generously offered buy me a meal and I acquired at the C&A for us; I then took a seat with Tobias and his friend Sigmund and they recanted to me the dire events I had missed during my absence:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9s-WX_Y90uE9lWFwCIiOsstMWG07wO0w3KoXpeJcopSffi7NtmfeEbaDD1tHgLPk6Qzs4-4omi9INLxcV8_OfrjXjshJSJeTrhQhC3iT6hD9lRe7RtMwxhtj7gRse56rtGwVZT6r0eQ/s1600/Town_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9s-WX_Y90uE9lWFwCIiOsstMWG07wO0w3KoXpeJcopSffi7NtmfeEbaDD1tHgLPk6Qzs4-4omi9INLxcV8_OfrjXjshJSJeTrhQhC3iT6hD9lRe7RtMwxhtj7gRse56rtGwVZT6r0eQ/s200/Town_drawn.jpg" width="148" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A host of therianthropes, led by their progenitor Silverfang, came into town with an elven female named Nym. Soon after, a group consisting of prominent members of the Black Rose (Kroth, Dimitri, Pter), along with a small escorting force, entered the surrounding lands and sent a diplomatic envoy to treat with the citizens and their visitors. They stated their intentions were peaceful to the folk of Dagger Deep but they demanded that Nym be handed over to them. To prevent escalating hostilities between the Black Rose and Silverfangs' pack, it was agreed no fighting was to take place within the gates of the town. In attempt to gain the good graces of some of the townsfolk, the Black Rose further agreed to aid in solving a recent clutch of demons that were terrorizing the realm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eventually, the Black Rose and the therianthropes moved their respective groups to Ork's Field, just outside of the entrance to Dark Wood and a long dialogue commenced between them. The Black Rose demanded Nym, whom they claimed placed the original curse upon their lord Sakacuron (then known as Zechariah) eons ago that drove him to obtain his lost true love, Lillian, and thus was the true cause of all the tragedy that ensued.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPKtKxEIqdw1NZClDmNTFROfD1Tj7gofjJg7Ia3QcryegGksl71DtGC8ZxgZ39_Ajwn1ELp_Jq3AFxWB5WmB1MDhLlLWZfbrixRfLO3hyphenhyphen20Jl_hTcwcLtjiXRJMAs6DLyYYiT1LuE80Y/s1600/Black+Rose2_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPKtKxEIqdw1NZClDmNTFROfD1Tj7gofjJg7Ia3QcryegGksl71DtGC8ZxgZ39_Ajwn1ELp_Jq3AFxWB5WmB1MDhLlLWZfbrixRfLO3hyphenhyphen20Jl_hTcwcLtjiXRJMAs6DLyYYiT1LuE80Y/s400/Black+Rose2_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pter, the executioner of Marcus, surrounded by forces of the Black Rose.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Silverfang countered that since her reappearance, Nym has done nothing but aid the unfortunate, whereas the Black Rose have been aggressively preying upon the region for the past several months and that their service to the dark lord is one of fear, not respect. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a rather drawn out exchange, the two forces finally came to blows, with many of the citizens of Dagger Deep allying with </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">therianthropes: The Black Rose was vastly outnumbered in force and after a few more desperate appeals, they were driven to rout from this land.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">During that time, two major things were said to occur: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">First, the ancient spirit </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dimitri</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> met with Nym and in a surprising turn, through strong words, clever deception, and/or powerful magic, changed his allegiance from the Black Rose to Nym, and aided in driving out his former allies. He was also heard to proclaim that together they would rebuild a noble holy order called the Blazing Sun, which was what the Black Rose was originally before it was corrupted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Such news I find difficult to believe and even if it is true, it'll be a cold day in <i>muspelheim</i> if I ever fully trust that blackguard.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The second, far more tragic event of that day concerned the nature of the death of Marcus.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was told that Pter, the one-armed declaimer of the Black Rose, returned to town during the commotion where he met with the Mitrite. The details are lost to me, for I was and have been coming to terms with very shock of the event and did not inquire, but from what little I've gathered, witnesses to the event said Marcus willingly had his soul ripped from his earthly vessel by Pter. Speculation abounds on the hereafter of his spirit, whether Pter damned him to the Abyss or granted him mercy by sending it to the Elysian Fields.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's difficult to imagine that any of high members of the Black Rose could show mercy, but I'm sure that all who loved and/or respected the man hope and pray he now rests in piece in his deserving afterlife. I know I do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Again, I wish I had a chance to meet that man. Of the threads of fate that I'm intertwined with, ours was never meant to cross.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With that, I have nothing more to write beyond this small measure which I honour him:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<h3>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sola Fide</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>-Ref ' Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
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Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-5986831061911911972015-08-13T16:00:00.001-07:002015-12-10T21:36:23.945-08:00Kampi's Saga: Unrequited Vengeance<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here's a long entry of <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank"><b>Kampi's Saga</b></a>, filled with many images of the day and some of his inner most thoughts. <i>Skal!</i></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf66-ZQBUpC0F2Vyw7YFP9hltWiezUVNFiE8bUPcWLt7IcG4oN9BAKoeORh1Bz-lu3VY7hvQaYzgJ6soRvUQiTtP6AG_YwOiYyB5cB8wvyzVcsav2B5w8BZcE4Zp36wUoW1QDz5amsE5A/s1600/Chess_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf66-ZQBUpC0F2Vyw7YFP9hltWiezUVNFiE8bUPcWLt7IcG4oN9BAKoeORh1Bz-lu3VY7hvQaYzgJ6soRvUQiTtP6AG_YwOiYyB5cB8wvyzVcsav2B5w8BZcE4Zp36wUoW1QDz5amsE5A/s400/Chess_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The second D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of Thonar</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of the Harvest </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315 </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2ViXphzM8L7h7x69SPyTJwabdRheik4tjJLQ_UQz3B4ayhyphenhyphenF9G2B3mSqIwdqCsqCSaaFAF02eZOdD7Jtl_JQtZU7xIhrOS5TkMR8QehjgMGa7EdWNVy6DSREXRe8qy90LcVMwqpDBb4/s1600/Thurisaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2ViXphzM8L7h7x69SPyTJwabdRheik4tjJLQ_UQz3B4ayhyphenhyphenF9G2B3mSqIwdqCsqCSaaFAF02eZOdD7Jtl_JQtZU7xIhrOS5TkMR8QehjgMGa7EdWNVy6DSREXRe8qy90LcVMwqpDBb4/s1600/Thurisaz_Rune.gif" /></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Thurisaz</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Thonar</i>, the Guardian of Asgard</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Giant</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Emotion, Force, Instinct</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Catharsis, Protection, Purification</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Compulsion, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Danger, Malice</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following an uneventful stay here in Helm's Deep, I once again visited that mystical place that lies to the north: Dagger Deep. Despite all the calamity that is inexorably drawn to it, I, along with many other individuals (noble intentions or otherwise), continue to fight for it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As is oft to occur, during the latter part of my journey to the township, I came across several friendly faces: my close friend Tobias, his cheerful companion Ori, along with their colleague in the mage school of Illodia and disciple of the sacred, Sunset.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We gathered around the sparring ring, where several aspirants desired to test their mettle by a trial in combat against a pair of seasoned fighters under the watchful eyes belonging to </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">arbiters of </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">their respective guilds. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We obliged many of them, taking turns in the ring. After the competitive drive a week ago during the Festival of Osis, it was refreshing to hone ones' skills with some light sparring whilst passing on advice to the newly initiated.</span></div>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After the melee, my companions departed to attend Illodian concerns and I met and talked at great length with my mentor Relan, whom I had not seen before I had departed on my wayfaring up north. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We discussed many things. He further tutored me in the divine script, which I am now convinced was composed long ago by dutiful scholars as an alternative means to cipher holy writings when runic (which I believe to be the true script of the gods, at least of the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Æsir</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">) would be more widely known. Relan politely</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> disagreed with my conjecture.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjCpwDIJWNGD9G_EKwZ7vU6IZlsEI1dmVXaZvocp-5IAvlMjm7jxWFMzkji9McuJc_TtJu9c9l3184-8lrj1lUiBAZSrX2PtZlmL3KCVVj-baDWsuNFSYJRx30WhTpv-Gk6TrU90K2pk/s1600/Kampi_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjCpwDIJWNGD9G_EKwZ7vU6IZlsEI1dmVXaZvocp-5IAvlMjm7jxWFMzkji9McuJc_TtJu9c9l3184-8lrj1lUiBAZSrX2PtZlmL3KCVVj-baDWsuNFSYJRx30WhTpv-Gk6TrU90K2pk/s320/Kampi_drawn.jpg" width="236" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhacUB372vnyiWIdZE5IWPNHoLPVewrVGHyqvChcA_cR8ameYD0NsGV7nsaGn1nawmpzqgywlLTmwydWJgMijMm1KaNwREuEqUNyWv8V-9y6KyZH-izs5Q_Gr3GdvxJACn-gzAaUZnpOD4/s1600/Relan_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhacUB372vnyiWIdZE5IWPNHoLPVewrVGHyqvChcA_cR8ameYD0NsGV7nsaGn1nawmpzqgywlLTmwydWJgMijMm1KaNwREuEqUNyWv8V-9y6KyZH-izs5Q_Gr3GdvxJACn-gzAaUZnpOD4/s320/Relan_drawn.jpg" width="236" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It seems Relan and I disagreed on much after that day; I am unsure if that is beneficial or unfavourable to our relationship as mentor and student. Though I was physically distant from him for sometime, before that and even now there is still a certain feeling of being remote from each other that might go well beyond having different faiths. This was further intensified by several discourses during the twilight hours later that day.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But I am getting ahead of myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">During our walks about the town, we encountered several odd beings, the first of which were a pair of ghostly azure lights that spoke in airy voices and flitted about interacting with locals in an occasionally mischievous fashion. They were soon joined by a silent third that appeared to be their lead. Initially they were thought to be fairy-folk until it was pointed out they were 'wisps'.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Another unfamiliar face was that of an elder dressed in a patchwork cloak who walked with the aid of a staff. He inquired about some marbles he had lost and was willing to pay for their return. There was also a man who bore a large 'pet' serpent. Such animals are rarely found where I am from and I find it difficult to reconcile that mortals would willingly consort with such creatures given their sullied connection with other scaled monsters; my mind leaps to the sagas containing the vile world-serpent, </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Jörmungand,</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> and the malicious wyrm, </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nidthogg</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">.</span><br />
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Back to the topic of losing ones marbles, we came across a most disturbing man, black hooded and spear-wielding, who raved about 'the ten marbles of mankind' and what the 'All-Father' compelled him to do; one witness to his frenetic jabbering later relayed to us he had mutilated his own face by the will of his god, which I am without a doubt certain is <u>not</u> the true <i>All-Father, Wodin</i>. I must keep in mind that if he appears again the future and continues to besmirch one of the well-known name of the <i>Chief of the </i><i>Æsir</i>, I may be bound to reconcile his disbelief, perhaps forcibly.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The light rain that did on occasion fall from the sky this day, along with the crow (a lesser bird of black plumage, similar looking to the more worthy raven, but smaller in size and low in bearing) that was seen circling periodically, and the appearance of these 'wisp' creatures, had my mentor Relan grimly proclaim them heralds of a certain god-like entity that had appeared the past year, known as the <i>Morrigan</i>.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A crowd had gathered at the tavern to witness the silent wisp manipulate the board of a </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">tafl</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> game known as chess, distributing certain pieces to select patrons, retrieving, and arraigning them upon the board in a select pattern. Relan and I departed the tavern briefly to attend to personal business whilst discussing the possible distracting omens of game-pieces and marbles, when suddenly the collective in the bar was beset by a legion of armed assailants bearing a cobalt-hued twice-barred cross as their unifying emblem. </span></div>
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Relan and I quickly joined the fray and after a heated battle, our gathering managed to drive off the aggressors, but only after we were aided by a small group of female newcomers (their dress was similar to those of the Celtfolk I knew in my youth). It was quickly established the four women were followers of the <i>Morrigan</i>; their high priestess was named Deidra, and the three sisters were Anu, Badb, and Macha. They were also accompanied by a shimmering insubstantial form, that Deidra claimed to be a divine servant granted by the <i>Morrigan</i> that she could beckon to full form at will.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Suspicion</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> was thick in the air, for many of our group unfavourably looked upon t</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">he followers of the <i>Morrigan</i> from past events that occurred a year ago. Deidra beseeched us to aid her, for a powerful being known only as 'the <i>Paragon</i>' had become host in the body of the kender Rosalia and now strove with its force to perform rituals at the elemental portals of this land to create a weapon capable of slaying deities.</span></div>
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Despite past misgivings, we allied with the high priestess. In preparation, the blessing of <i>Ithus</i> was placed upon several of our weapons, mine own included. Deidra also offered many of us a magical boon from the <i>Morrigan</i>; I initially rebuffed her offer, stating that I preferred to keep to my own faith (despite just accepting a boon from <i>Ithus;</i> outside of the <i>Æsir,</i> I place my trust in Relan's god); she seemed to understand my motive and accepted it with grace. After a brief supplication by Relan, we collectively marched with haste to the first location the <i>Paragon </i>was believed to begin its rituals: the water portal near the river Galadriel.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiMkb7LscBR37tEbqxXl8h-NJEy6pJSixOk3LraMAow1-rEixer2yCDSptcLawKy75KYdKHtrmBBhlsUnKvEINHHp4OLJcK1fGAChuX85jRQXWVX376ilUkE3d1Lt6E5GD64uaSKIxcWk/s1600/The+Paragon_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiMkb7LscBR37tEbqxXl8h-NJEy6pJSixOk3LraMAow1-rEixer2yCDSptcLawKy75KYdKHtrmBBhlsUnKvEINHHp4OLJcK1fGAChuX85jRQXWVX376ilUkE3d1Lt6E5GD64uaSKIxcWk/s200/The+Paragon_drawn.jpg" width="148" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unfortunately we arrived at the river just as the unhallowed ritual was reaching its completion. Though the sisters of the <i>Morrigan</i> were able to dispel the protective barrier the servants of the <i>Paragon </i>had erected around those performing their vile rites and we met their force in combat, we were unable to break their lines before the ceremony was completed. The ground quaked, throwing all prone as the elemental link collapsed and its power was drawn into the large two-handed greatsword wielded</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> by the <i>Paragon</i>.</span><br />
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Our foe quickly withdrew by magical means whilst we contended with the remaining forces. During the battle, my mentor Relan had been dealt a grievous wound: his right eye had been dislodged by the thrust of a blade, partially blinding him. Whilst I safeguarded his vulnerable state from threats, he, through admirable discipline, returned the displaced orb to his head and recovered the injury through the grace of <i>Ithus</i>.</span><br />
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The High Priestess related to our group that the <i>Paragon </i>and <strike>her</strike> its forces must be moving to the next portal in the supposed cycle: the earth portal. We gathered our forces and redoubled our efforts to the thistle-filled plain known as Andi's Land. Again we arrived just as the ritual was under way and again the earth shook despite our valiant efforts. I slew many a foe and I fell repeatedly to the weapons they wielded, the crushing embrace of half-bred offsprings of orc and troll, and to the arrows of their keen-eyed archer.</span><br />
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A few of our group focused repeated efforts on capturing the <i>Paragon's </i>hosted form to prevent the future rituals, but it proved too difficult with the powers that it and its allies brought to bear against those who attempted to seize the form of Rosalia.</span><br />
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Though soundly beaten again, we were still determined to prevent the <i>Paragon's </i>plan to further infuse the sword with god-slaying power; once we regathered our band we pressed off to prevent the twice-successful ritual from being further performed. We had also learned that the <i>Paragon </i>was using the blood of particular individuals they had captured to fuel these rites, and those who were believed to be sought by the enemy took to hiding or disguising themselves; two of such were Lord Caius, Protector of the Deep, and Sir Odez of Uberland, respectively.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our plan partially succeeded, for while we were mistaken in our knowledge that the air portal was to be the next target and travelled there to secure it, it delayed the <i>Paragon </i>from being able to complete their ritual at the portal of fire. When news of their location reached us, the bulk of our force sought them out to engage whilst at my suggestion a small group remanded to defend the air portal should our foe succeed in gaining the elemental potential of flame.</span><br />
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The wise and kindly <i>jötunn</i> Mordag was able to direct us to what he believed to be the precise location of the air portal and we arrayed ourselves around it to repulse any force encountered with our lives. A pair of clever females worked on supplementing our position with an array of hidden traps, whilst the rest of us steeled our nerves and replenished our faith in our gods or connection to nature.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Time pressed on, the sounds of battle few and distant. Tobias was able to pass on his recently mastered knowledge of the uses of several plants to me. Eventually a shieldmaiden dressed in the garb of an Uberlandian came upon our group by her lonesome, persistently inquiring about the presence Lord Caius. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We were correct to be wary, for she was strange in her demands and heedless to the appeals to halt her advance; she strode through several snares yet she seemed unmindful to the wounds they inflicted upon her. It wasn't until the strength of the giant knocked her flat upon her back her progress was halted, after which she withdrew indignant by her lack of answers. She must have been undoubtedly under the control of the <i>Paragon</i>, seeking to use her relationship with Caius to draw him out of hiding.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
Hereafter we heard the full force of our foe in the nearby hinterland and drew alert and silent; we believed they were searching for the air portal and would soon come upon our ambush. We prepared for the inevitable.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
Soon we heard friendly shouts approach from the opposite direction and they sought to engage with our enemy, who responded with cries of their own. Suddenly, a great rumbling quake told all that they somehow had managed to complete their ceremony as it was later learned with the blood of Odez, whose attempt to disguise himself was unsuccessful. Our small band was incensed that the <i>Paragon </i>must have managed to tap into the air gateway via a nearby ley juncture.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
The final prospect was obvious to all now: a single portal remained between success and failure. Tobias, myself, and several of our well-rested comrades proceeded hence with all haste to the last portal. There we again prepared for a final stand. In readiness for the inevitable onslaught, I chose to accept the again offered boon from Deidra, the high priestess of the <i>Morrigan</i>: She laid her hand upon my arm and after a brief lull I felt empowered beyond what I have ever felt before. It was as if the <i>Æsir</i> imbued my weak mortal frame with their combined potency: the might of <i>Thonar</i>, the courage of <i>Tyraz</i>, the very will of <i>Wodin</i>. I was ready for anything that may come.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
Yet, gradually over the course of time, Deidra then revealed to us glad tidings: she had received divine presage that the <i>Paragon </i>had failed in its task to harness the control of all four gateways to create its weapon and all that remained for us was to meet them at a particular location and banish them once and for all!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
Feeling that the end was within our grasp we proceeded as a group to the place that was to allegedly be the final battle, but we to soon discovered their force outside of the town and quickly learned we were deceived by a falsehood worthy of <i>the Trickster </i>himself: Whilst we departed the fire portal a small band of their warriors secured it for an imminent last ditch attempt at completion of the ritual.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
With my last motes of energy I flew back to the portal with all the swiftness and determination I had, alone spearheading a vanguard to the spot. I arrived just as the warriors of the <i>Paragon </i>arrayed themselves out to safeguard their holding. Knowing that time was critical, I did not wait for the remainder of my allies to arrive; I felt that alone I might cause a distraction and weaken their defences, however slight.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I approached their line and a tall man wearing plate, maille, and a feathered cap, carrying a two-handed blade over his shoulder, called out to me as a northman in the surprisingly familiar accent belonging to the lowlands south of my homeland, challenging me to a duel with him. Driven by the pride of an honourable fight, the confidence granted to me by the gods, and the belief that I stood a better chance fighting one on one, I engaged my challenger.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> To the best of my ability I parried his great blows and managed to score a few of my own upon him, and we seemed evenly matched until an honourless archer drove his arrow shaft deep into my chest. I knew then I would not last long and prepared to meet the greyness of death, when a blur tacked my foeman; it was Tobias and the remainder of our force crashed against their own. I eventually fell but an ally soon had me back on my feet and we proceeded to drive the <i>Paragon's </i>allies from these lands and banish the being from the exhausted kender. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
At last, we were successful in preventing the god-slaying weapon from coming into being!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Exhausted over the events of the day, I voraciously supped alone back at the tavern whilst many celebrated. Afterwards I joined again with Relan and we resumed our earlier conversations; I told of the power I felt from the boon granted by the high priestess of the <i>Morrigan</i>, and he advised me to cleanse myself to remove any possible 'stain' left from the blessing belonging to a not entirely affiliated god. He seemed to perhaps wisely continue to harbour mild suspicion against the <i>Morrigan</i> and her followers despite their beneficial actions of that day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We also continued our discussion about the followers of the Black Rose and how they've been able to taint those of divine grace with a form of 'Abyssal mana' that consumes what is granted to the pious by the gods, gradually replacing their faith with a corrupted mockery. A dangerous threat to all followers of the holy ways.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our late night conversations were soon disturbed by the arrival of a infamous figure: the outlaw and servant of the Black Rose, Dimitri. After a tense exchange with him, Relan and I gathered a band from the tavern willing to attempt capturing him (for the greater good or the bounty). Laughing mockingly, he slew several valiant fighters by ripping their hearts from their chest or by setting some aflame, one of which was Relan, whom I managed to pat out before the flames wholly consumed him. We then lost his form in the thick underbrush near Fort Rowanoak, and our attempts to locate or cajole him out proved fruitless.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The two of us soon met with Rosalia and that broody <i>hestkuk</i> of a mage Philip. Rosalia was acting somewhat delirious; I though she was merely completely exhausted being host to that <i>Paragon </i>being all day, but turns out the reason was more dire than that: Through events I don't entirely understand, the little kender's shrivelled right hand was not her own and her mind constantly bickered with the spirit contained therein. Supposedly both belonged to the long lost wife of the mortal who became the dark lord of this realm, Sakacuron, whose desire for her was so great it drove him to acts of unforgivable evil.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her wanderings brought us to the darkness near the river Galadriel, where we were soon joined by Dimitri. Since Relan did not make against him, I stayed my hand out of respect for my mentor and his perhaps wise course of action, though I constantly struggled with the urge to throw myself at that arrogant villain, even if the death he granted would save me from what I saw and heard that evening.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After some discussion, it was decided that Dimitri would remove the hand and see it back to his master; the process may forever haunt me. Through magic, Philip, perhaps in a misguided act of pity, made it so Rosalia's screams would not be heard, for Dimitri cut off her hand with a knife. The slow act we witnessed was almost too much to bear; I wished I had an axe to lend to hasten her suffering. I have newfound respect for the little kender for enduring such pain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once the appendage was free, Relan returned her to life; with her old hand in place of the other, she was herself again. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A tense dialogue followed where I was but an observer to an array of subjects perhaps beyond my understanding, or rather willingness to understand. The affairs of locals I told myself, though I feel that I must grow to learn such tales as I know that this land is now perhaps my new home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eventually their discussions came to a close and we parted without a violent incident occurring. My mentor and I had a fierce dialogue on the nature of morality and how ones actions were justified: Relan would seek to satiate the looming threat of Sakacuron and the Black Rose by reuniting him with his lost love, hoping that by granting what him what he desires most this world might be saved from his ravages. For Relan, it seemed that end would justify the means.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I deny this, for to me it is akin to giving a mass murderer a pardon, disrespecting all who died in his wake in this and other worlds in his pursuit of his passion, as noble as it perhaps once was. I know deep in my soul the <i>Æsir</i> would wish us to fight until the very end, just as they plan to do at <i>Ragnarök</i>, despite knowing it is to be their doom. Attempting to appease the threat is to accept defeat and dominance by it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My teacher said wearily that there were many paladins and acolytes in the land who'd agree with me; though I am sure it was not meant to be one, but I somehow took that observation as slight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We ended back at the tavern, which was empty from the late hour, where we relieved our exhausted and sullen souls by partaking in heavy drink with the kender and the mage before we all retired for the night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">-Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</span></i></div>
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Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-40841660024653084852015-08-05T13:51:00.001-07:002015-12-10T21:41:46.817-08:00Kampi's Saga: The Festival of Osis<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last weekend, </span><a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Kampi</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> returned to Dagger Deep in time for the </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Festival of Osis</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">, a three-day long celebration hosted by the faction of Hrogn, where there was various competitions and feasts. Huge kudos to all who aided in that </span>memorable<span style="font-family: inherit;"> event!</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Being fairly successful at the ranged competition makes me consider switching classes!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The first D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of the Moon</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of the Harvest </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315 </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2ViXphzM8L7h7x69SPyTJwabdRheik4tjJLQ_UQz3B4ayhyphenhyphenF9G2B3mSqIwdqCsqCSaaFAF02eZOdD7Jtl_JQtZU7xIhrOS5TkMR8QehjgMGa7EdWNVy6DSREXRe8qy90LcVMwqpDBb4/s1600/Thurisaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2ViXphzM8L7h7x69SPyTJwabdRheik4tjJLQ_UQz3B4ayhyphenhyphenF9G2B3mSqIwdqCsqCSaaFAF02eZOdD7Jtl_JQtZU7xIhrOS5TkMR8QehjgMGa7EdWNVy6DSREXRe8qy90LcVMwqpDBb4/s1600/Thurisaz_Rune.gif" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcMRW2WcL_OFfgjTfsOE9ug5KCkzUpTA4r2ClNhnr4TIjRT-aUbYQxpRpbuIDaQvJbhI0w_iyjgMyMAwW3zAcl3EitCtPWqZry211B4y5kUoQ7KNr_7mvQPU3uA4tvbbpsg3uPF8jtFZs/s1600/Othila_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Thurisaz</span><br />
<u style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Divine Association:</u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thonar</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, the Guardian of Asgard</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Giant</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Emotion, Force, Instinct</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Catharsis, Protection, Purification</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Compulsion, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Danger, Malice</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
I cannot express my relief and mirth upon returning to Arrakis after an uneventful voyage from Bella and at last arriving to the lands of Dagger Deep. I had only been away for almost two full cycles of the moon but it felt like an eternity. Soon after making landfall, I had learned from a colourful travelling band of nomads outside of Helm's Deep (whom refer to their collective as Vistani), of a festival that was to take place in Dagger Deep by the faction of Hrogn, to honour their patron, Osis. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
As we were to travel to the same locale, I compensated the Vistani handsomely for their portage with the turnout I was allotted by the generous Merchant-Captain Lorens from our somewhat perilous yet profitable trading voyage up North. With my gains, I also purchased plenty of food and drink to share with my compatriots, the remainder of which did not spend I stored in the local treasury of Dagger Deep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<hr />
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">First Day</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Upon our arrival sometime before the festivities began, I set camp in the temple district, within view of the honourable church of Ithus. Whilst I was in the southern lands of Arrakis, my good friend Seppo the Blacksmith aided me in construction a personal tent of similar design to those used by my kin. Imprinted upon the side panels, is the symbol of my deity: the <i>Odthrerir</i> (three interlocking drinking horns that represent the three draughts of the mead of poetry the <i>Furor-Giver Wodin</i> acquired for both mortals and gods)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">As a deterrent for thieves, I hung the head of the 'wight' above the entrance. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Given that nothing was taken from my tent, perhaps this unappealing object has its uses...</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sleeping within a tent is much more comfortable than placing ones bedroll upon the ground, where one is open to the elements and bugs, evident by several similar structures used throughout the township, mostly by members of the caravan I travelled with:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After I had set camp, familiar folk began to arrive and I was delighted beyond measure to see my friend Tobias and his companion Ori. We, along with a host of others, joined in a sport where each group located and captured the flag belonging to the opposing team. The game inspired a healthy competitive spirit and although we agreed to an honourable draw, our team was quite confident the gods had granted us victory. I am further eager to introduce the sport I learnt from the folk of Bella to those folk interested; perhaps in the coming weeks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
As twilight grew, many journeyed to the neighbouring lands of Hrogn to take part in a communal feast whilst I, Tobias, Ori, and a few others gathered in the Cock & Ass to slake our thirst upon the apple cider of <i>Idthuna </i>I brought and catchup on recent events. In my error I mistakenly grabbed one of the baskets from my tent I had briefly placed the head of the wight inside, prompting keen inquiries by my companions how it came into and why it remains in my possession.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
Once I had consumed enough drink, I told them the odd tale of my arrival in the accursed settlement of Bella and how I was seemingly fated to slay the dark creature and am sacredly compelled to be the keeper of its head . There was much speculation of the nature of said being; none there were able to shed light upon its nameless ilk it belongs to (The following day the prophet of Cheeba claimed it perhaps belonged to a northern variety of goblin-folk, given its colouration and stocky build. Ivan Rumunski agreed with me that it does smell of the undead. Perhaps the reasoning of both is true; would this then be some sort of <i>'Ghoulblin'</i>?)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
After drinks we chose to venture to the bar in the fortress of Hrogn, as the sounds of revelry could be heard far across the fields of Calen Tor. I returned the head back to my tent and grabbed food and drink to share and enjoy. There in Bar Osis, bards, poets, and minstrels of all walks were performing their art in the start of a competition of skaldsmansip that was to last until the grand winner was to be announced from the individual who had gained the most favour tokens from spectators.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
After much merrymaking I retired to my tent for the remainder of the evening whilst those with stronger desires caroused late into the gloom. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji_VmRA8ofiZSOHFzUn0-Xn0yLmgqsxumyt28pbj_wyaZ3cvKlWr9LW0fNfOGapwG_2mJnEW1SjndiCWH3-XreS_Nij4tVWn32wY6wGOUlntKG5Ysr0TpJ3HUcxvyUyWfUNud_0QXSKlc/s1600/Blood+Moon_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji_VmRA8ofiZSOHFzUn0-Xn0yLmgqsxumyt28pbj_wyaZ3cvKlWr9LW0fNfOGapwG_2mJnEW1SjndiCWH3-XreS_Nij4tVWn32wY6wGOUlntKG5Ysr0TpJ3HUcxvyUyWfUNud_0QXSKlc/s400/Blood+Moon_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">I was fortunate not to be beset by vicious were-creatures as I slept, for that was the night of the fullest moon.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span> <br />
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</div>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Second Day</span></h4>
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</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I awoke to a bright, new morrow. Being the washing day of my people, headed to the river of Galadriel where I was joined by the Vistani trader Sal Guod, whom had recently improved of his affliction and was taking the opportunity to wash the scab-laden sores </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">formed by the pox </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">from his body. Nearby, across the mainstream, the pair of us discovered a tiny stream that ran ice-cold despite the heat of the season and we are sure that such waters were blessed by the gods, for being immersed in them seemed rejuvenate our body and purify our souls. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFNwZY9O1NwE3b8cMZruivtXRihCNCsac7G4Hy8f3zem6IkqmYlpZzDr7PwNjepsRWcE1OwdOn-WBJ57Gy1UXZjbDMfMLJoOGeHfMg4EMOYZ-mPsughdj_rVOvJ3uWZkVyCcWQjLDCANQ/s1600/Ivan2_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFNwZY9O1NwE3b8cMZruivtXRihCNCsac7G4Hy8f3zem6IkqmYlpZzDr7PwNjepsRWcE1OwdOn-WBJ57Gy1UXZjbDMfMLJoOGeHfMg4EMOYZ-mPsughdj_rVOvJ3uWZkVyCcWQjLDCANQ/s320/Ivan2_drawn.jpg" width="238" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Ivan Rumunski of Hrogn</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ready to face the day before us, we then broke our fast at the tavern, afterwhich I</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> briefly met with my old compatriot of Hrogn, Ivan Rumunski. We discussed the past discontentment I harboured against him for his seemingly indifferent actions and words against my </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">deep concern over were-creatures preying upon innocent folk, something that Hrogn was supposedly handling. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My time away cooled my enmity against Ivan, and by proxy his faction. I had resolved </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">during my ruminations </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">the day prior to be forgiving and gracious to the hosts of this festival, for many of its members treated it as a set of holy days. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once preparations were complete, an announcement was made by the Rex (leader) of Hrogn, Lucius</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, and the tournament of Osis began in earnest. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The structure of the tournament consisted of an assortment duelling</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> rings, each focusing upon a particular fighting technique: one for fighting knives only, one with a weapon in each hand, one for sword and shield use, one specifically for polearms and staves, one for large, two-handed weapons, and a special ring that encouraged the use of any known proficiencies, abilities, or magical techniques. The rings were split into two tiers, each lasting a few hours; also during this time there was an ongoing ranged weapon competition that lasted the entire duration of the tournament.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDZ336sk1gb_7gYsm5ZwMlVXBcpUilVqAdscDC_fVxItXAHzzveXp5edTgrsoG9DAUiSCSNx_Gw05DUCmvcv1sM2nnCkyue9N1NAXPm61ZxsZoIkjIPpCgTuIgXv7OglfHWDLVdM9_M1I/s1600/Tents_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDZ336sk1gb_7gYsm5ZwMlVXBcpUilVqAdscDC_fVxItXAHzzveXp5edTgrsoG9DAUiSCSNx_Gw05DUCmvcv1sM2nnCkyue9N1NAXPm61ZxsZoIkjIPpCgTuIgXv7OglfHWDLVdM9_M1I/s400/Tents_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When one entered any of the competition grounds, it was claimed that the patron of Hrogn, Osis, granted basic familiarity with the appropriate weapon(s) to anyone who otherwise lacked training, granting all the chance to participate; the blessing of the rings also prevented injuries from being mortal or persisting beyond the scope of the arena. Having witnessed these marvels first hand, such claims surely were not unfounded. Participants were open to compete in any ring as often as they desired.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Z7CljOGJNuUiVpjl204_JGWjBG8-FweV9G885A8oqv7CRli5EICVAtoVe4KuYtuDTYQ8nK7p-wjYcU7_WqZKlw_hBlMV6KRoOW4zwfSpQtYzcDLKKyhcEKsXtslx_KwIvwVwbRdlGUo/s1600/Dice+vs+Forge_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Z7CljOGJNuUiVpjl204_JGWjBG8-FweV9G885A8oqv7CRli5EICVAtoVe4KuYtuDTYQ8nK7p-wjYcU7_WqZKlw_hBlMV6KRoOW4zwfSpQtYzcDLKKyhcEKsXtslx_KwIvwVwbRdlGUo/s400/Dice+vs+Forge_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Dice, follower of Cheeba, against the warrior Forge, whilst the Sloth judges.</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Additionally, in the fighting rings, ones combat expertise was not judged so much by their ability to weather blows, but their speed and prowess at striking true. Blows upon an opponent's limbs would render them useless, and a repeated blow upon an already wounded arm or a strike to the chest or torso would be counted as fatal. Limb injuries continue to persist on fighters between matches until they left the fighting ring. Stepping or being forced out of the ring counted as a loss.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNN97q4EzJ0s0536PmNH56vP1eacRuKVxEc_6VdFo43AMpR8sinCL_qzuZOemj2eZZGlAyi76fmlGDrHTwmD5_YfpUE-nXSTjsXcbB4OmaZjpS4JiMy839shpbkhCHQdiPmghJhaQPjqI/s1600/Magnamus_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNN97q4EzJ0s0536PmNH56vP1eacRuKVxEc_6VdFo43AMpR8sinCL_qzuZOemj2eZZGlAyi76fmlGDrHTwmD5_YfpUE-nXSTjsXcbB4OmaZjpS4JiMy839shpbkhCHQdiPmghJhaQPjqI/s400/Magnamus_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">A special guest, one of the founders of Hrogn, Jarl Magnamus Dwarfkin.</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Each win would grant the victor 3 points, whilst a loss would count as none. If one self-wounded themselves to match the injury an opponent had, they gained gain 1 point for the honourable act. The fighter with the most accrued</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> points in one ring would be considered the master of that competition. The one to be named tournament champion would be the one to acquire the most points in all the competitions, including the ranged competition.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_z4JjBECPemcx8DTaJGSVgV1bAnQofTbHBhnqGbFmXmt5weSw_VeQ6uWDjJvKtOL927HYPQdpDPBMCNfCgeW6_tzKGeD5XG-y9EqcGAJ8IN91Cx6t6sPlZ6xg5H4630Ss33G51TuWmc/s1600/Ivan_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_z4JjBECPemcx8DTaJGSVgV1bAnQofTbHBhnqGbFmXmt5weSw_VeQ6uWDjJvKtOL927HYPQdpDPBMCNfCgeW6_tzKGeD5XG-y9EqcGAJ8IN91Cx6t6sPlZ6xg5H4630Ss33G51TuWmc/s400/Ivan_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">A relative newcomer duelling with Ivan.</span></td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The ranged competition consisted of a series of three targets upon a field; the closest was worth a single point, the middle two, and the farthest three. Contestants were allotted</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> three shots with the ranged weapon/spell of their choice: crossbow, bow, fireball, javelin, rock, or other throwing weapons.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSF2WVVlj1DDZEpR4_IVRQKBhNXZJJdozYaUJ7zI6Cmm6XLkGT5HVYx_x8tyF-E6qmjM6AD1rb-NK-8pEd4sOzciDZzvrP6oXwjyejhoyFqG_VgkxLsYu6NYXy0sAaay7RRzs9W9Qlr_M/s1600/Persius+vs+Tobias_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSF2WVVlj1DDZEpR4_IVRQKBhNXZJJdozYaUJ7zI6Cmm6XLkGT5HVYx_x8tyF-E6qmjM6AD1rb-NK-8pEd4sOzciDZzvrP6oXwjyejhoyFqG_VgkxLsYu6NYXy0sAaay7RRzs9W9Qlr_M/s400/Persius+vs+Tobias_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Perseus against Tobias, both with several injuries.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though I was initially undecided whether or not to compete, I felt that I must honour the <i>Father of Victory</i> by doing so. I spent sometime fighting in the dagger ring and I amassed a small amount of points by sheer luck more than skill, before I tried the other rings. I felt that the range of what I was armed with (my sword <i>Sváfnir</i> and my sæx <i>Hrafnefr</i>) was too short against opponents who favoured longer weapons for the duel weapon ring, and soon was too exhausted to try the sword and shield ring more than once.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">During this whole time, a non-martial art competition was taking place in the tavern until the evening feast; laid out for all to see were crafted objects of all types and spectators could cast their vote on pieces as many times as they had favour tokens.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyGUfpkptpcSiDZ_p514nXTTq5TS71LoiUxSMYPPgbLIZCmrQlOmSk2sspr7fIqjgVQeFgoYMvqsSWVCd2SMd0YUWv9Pi3BswEI13PEXPLVUQOpNOSe1F2PX3IPbeQwskCOTsRozOfNes/s1600/Runes_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyGUfpkptpcSiDZ_p514nXTTq5TS71LoiUxSMYPPgbLIZCmrQlOmSk2sspr7fIqjgVQeFgoYMvqsSWVCd2SMd0YUWv9Pi3BswEI13PEXPLVUQOpNOSe1F2PX3IPbeQwskCOTsRozOfNes/s400/Runes_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">All pieces were of fine make but one such object that caught my attention was a large set of rune tiles. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Unfortunately, I missed my opportunity to submit my vote.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In what was intended to be a casual trial at the ranged competition, I soon discovered I was surprisingly competent with a bow, as I quickly accrued points to put me in the top three competitors, at times taking the lead. I had occasionally hunted with a bow when I was young, but I long believed that that skill had faded away. Evidently I was wrong, and the drive of friendly competition and honour spurred me on. Unfortunately, our competition was to last the entire tournament and devolved to the top three competing against each other by a briefly taking a thin lead for a time, for we were all equally skilled.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwY8h7ErxxHTREVPyU8DuglUQVfT75qE5puAm1IlrGm7kLYFTHpe11_AnhDM4rYGcae7BAz_xn_VVhqyhXOL6L9yzr3jrAlQQU_qR4k56xa13vbnVYr6WYPwy8O1YPRr8gN4WEHqFVQCM/s1600/Kampi_archery_drawn1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwY8h7ErxxHTREVPyU8DuglUQVfT75qE5puAm1IlrGm7kLYFTHpe11_AnhDM4rYGcae7BAz_xn_VVhqyhXOL6L9yzr3jrAlQQU_qR4k56xa13vbnVYr6WYPwy8O1YPRr8gN4WEHqFVQCM/s400/Kampi_archery_drawn1.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Myself, drawing and aiming.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">During the time I was not shooting, my thoughts could not but help to drift to the myths of the divine archer <i>Ull</i>: Though commonly invoked by archers, hunters, and trappers of my homeland, <i>Ull</i> is/was a somewhat unpopular deity amongst common folk given his is association with winter, a season of hardship, as well as his mysterious, sorcerous nature.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Many did debate whether or not <i>Ull</i> could be considered a member of the <i>Æsir</i>, for his origins were as obscure as his motives;</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> some place him as a deity belonging to another faith or member of the <i>Vanir</i> that was granted admission to the <i>Æsir</i> like <i>Njordth</i> and his two children, <i>Freyng</i> and <i>Valfreyja</i>; others place him with distant relation to <i>Thonar</i>.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Us4m6QvtTJK3UNV4mEyF8sfVjl77x7Uj6lvqP8bLP95zkiMaf_7aFW0AF60euQm05swYePGzyq8WH7x54A8gyGA9LKxbOfL_t7utiCwfVAd7lL7ZKoOEEJrEKVtsmf2yiw-jthzn7jM/s1600/boz_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Us4m6QvtTJK3UNV4mEyF8sfVjl77x7Uj6lvqP8bLP95zkiMaf_7aFW0AF60euQm05swYePGzyq8WH7x54A8gyGA9LKxbOfL_t7utiCwfVAd7lL7ZKoOEEJrEKVtsmf2yiw-jthzn7jM/s400/boz_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">My competitor, Boz, mage of skill and evoking master of the fireball.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Some rumours circulate that at times </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ull </i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ruled over the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Vanir</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> and/or the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Æsir</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> when </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wodin</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> was absent, and that as a powerful magician he owns a magic bone marked with runes that allows him to traverse the seas undaunted; such tales are occasionally used as evidence that </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ull </i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">is/was an aspect of the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">All-Father</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> himself? </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wodin</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> is sometimes referred to as the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">God of the Wild Hunt</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Whether this is holds to be true or not, I do believe I felt divine influence whenever I knocked and drew back an arrow, that's the only explanation I can come up with why an unskilled archer like me was able to be so successful with an inferior bow (It was known the lent bow was of poor quality for the draw arc was too short and constantly struck the back of ones hand when fired, and when Ferdinand graciously let me borrow his own bow, my shooting far improved; so much so my competitors voiced</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> they did not want me to continually borrow it!).</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERsGkgVb8Q5iRRl2t3Dnx4SFtnfI2Us2iVamydX9Mj6TxUxdzMPRyX35ssMqpoce-IQpG1tOKf0ElTmm-S6DzydKBw6S1FRnKDntGk2jLfCnOhP7zqdKICy7syiSIKaSb0cnkzCwWjf8/s1600/Ferdinand_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERsGkgVb8Q5iRRl2t3Dnx4SFtnfI2Us2iVamydX9Mj6TxUxdzMPRyX35ssMqpoce-IQpG1tOKf0ElTmm-S6DzydKBw6S1FRnKDntGk2jLfCnOhP7zqdKICy7syiSIKaSb0cnkzCwWjf8/s400/Ferdinand_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My other competitor, Ferdinand Wayfarer, Elven caster and member of the Wild Ones.</span> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For the remainder of that day (and even at times now) I could not help but question the feeling that perhaps the path I am taking is not as correct as I believe it to be. There are other paths I could take, but I am unsure of the best.</span><br />
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was called away to aid Sal Guod and his fellow Vistani </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">on a favour</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> an hour before the ranged competition was to end. Given the current standings at the time, I genially accepted that my honourable opponents Boz and Ferdinand would surpass me in score and I would be ranked third in our tournament. I later heard that Ferdinand was titled the overall victor of the ranged tournament.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_quu8Z8PLkdwv5tzU67JACzNNnFqy6wInmZvSf5qLGWMtChE9GKY7vGTfREWVA__fHFEpw9NLp4aQr3VKGTTchPQD6YYdknM8e3_agbzIAS5UcyHVqmCOrPij1a1Ra6ZFwju-Jy18oD4/s1600/Bar+Osis_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_quu8Z8PLkdwv5tzU67JACzNNnFqy6wInmZvSf5qLGWMtChE9GKY7vGTfREWVA__fHFEpw9NLp4aQr3VKGTTchPQD6YYdknM8e3_agbzIAS5UcyHVqmCOrPij1a1Ra6ZFwju-Jy18oD4/s400/Bar+Osis_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Revelry at Bar Osis</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unfortunately my business kept me away and from attending the grand feast at Hrogn that evening, where the noble warrior Perseus was crowned the overall champion of Osis, but the news and dining wasn't all that I missed...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<hr />
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Third Day</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The following day was quiet in comparison to the last two; I suspected the majority of folk were exhausted from participating in the tournament the day earlier and some from carousing the previous night. Several of the events planned, such as a scavenger hunt, were cancelled for unknown reasons. Perhaps lack of interest, but more so it might have had to so with a significant proclamation given at the feast: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Word spread and it came to my knowledge that Hrogn, by announcement of the Rex, was to lose its lands; effectively, as I understand, turning the vassals of that kingdom into a landless faction.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
I truly knew not what to make of such news, aside from the collective sympathy many bare towards Hrogn. I heard there was great amount of unrest amongst members of Hrogn, particularly the elder Magnamus, whom supposedly stormed off in a fury upon hearing the edict (several say his actions were unbecoming as the legendary figure of Hrogn).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Regardless of reason, the general mood throughout the lands had changed; and I, like many others, decided to take my leave for the time being.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I shall endeavour to show my support when I next see Ivan, Kail, Lucius, and other members of Hrogn, for what is without a doubt, a difficult time to be endured. But I am confident, that the kin of the wolf's head shall endure and grow stronger from such adversity. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Accolades should be heaped upon our gracious hosts for their planning and executing such a successful event despite the foreboding knowledge some where privy too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<h4>
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Glory to Hrogn and Praise Be To The Æsir</span></b></h4>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">-Ref ' Kampi' Vandillson</span></i></div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-63368122193624470372015-08-03T11:01:00.000-07:002015-08-03T14:15:02.003-07:00BC Day Long Weekend Happy Civic Holiday my fellow Canadians, and for those of us specifically who live in British Columbia, Happy BC Day!<br />
<br />
August is off to a busy start for me, beginning with the three-day-long <i>Festival of Osis</i> at <b>Medieval Chaos</b> the past few days; various competitions, feasts, and in-character camping! I've been spending the week or so prior rushing to complete projects for it. An entry of <i>Kampi's Edda</i> shall follow soon detailing the event, but first I need post my results to the <b><a href="http://autocratik.blogspot.ca/2015/06/rpgaday2015-this-august-it-is-happening.html" target="_blank">#RPGaDAY2015</a></b> questions I've missed. Like last year I aim to provide an outline of my answers at the end of the month, but for those interested any current entries, feel free to follow me on <a href="https://plus.google.com/+RileyVandall/posts" target="_blank"><b>G+</b></a> or <a href="https://www.facebook.com/jerreth" target="_blank"><b>fB</b></a>. I'll be posting the first three days.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZ6iTxwaZd1BgNTNwPmyAnhPR1b8yj7t2fEesQ1KVIn9zCpqyGdTPrf3m5gXjazCQc1Bu0RnCwEPeOjhqBdhYcbHEj2GTHQtzlF2aZ3j3HGmKA-lfkDMdD0GR-mwhNr2bYV5WSiv9yfo/s1600/RPGaDay2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZ6iTxwaZd1BgNTNwPmyAnhPR1b8yj7t2fEesQ1KVIn9zCpqyGdTPrf3m5gXjazCQc1Bu0RnCwEPeOjhqBdhYcbHEj2GTHQtzlF2aZ3j3HGmKA-lfkDMdD0GR-mwhNr2bYV5WSiv9yfo/s400/RPGaDay2015.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Coming up Wednesday of this week, I'm meeting with my employer to begin working again now that I'm pretty much a 100% healed up; I'll miss the free time but I think I'm a bit more effective with utilizing it when I have structure and limitations behind it, plus having a steady paycheque again would be nice.<br />
<br />
A couple days before the weekend I was delighted as usual to receive a package by post and inside said package was the <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/montecookgames/exclusive-numenera-boxed-set-edition/" target="_blank">Exclusive <b>Numenera</b> Boxed Set</a> I backed. I opened 'er up and basked in its contents.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigutumWCCJSvlfI3sBPNNkISf3DL295Gew3FLSOMp0CIqn_HIbutFMdMV4GerChRMunvmA2eFUYb83eLRTHpAHtDKaUZq9fVHwXPyruuBbAAQRb-GXWMNRh445e6hPClDXz_amKEzd_Cg/s1600/2015-07-29+15.01.19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigutumWCCJSvlfI3sBPNNkISf3DL295Gew3FLSOMp0CIqn_HIbutFMdMV4GerChRMunvmA2eFUYb83eLRTHpAHtDKaUZq9fVHwXPyruuBbAAQRb-GXWMNRh445e6hPClDXz_amKEzd_Cg/s400/2015-07-29+15.01.19.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Gonna be honest, I squeed a little.<br />
<br />
I even made an impromptu unboxing video with my phone. Unfortunately I didn't have enough memory on my phone to record its entirety so it cuts out near the end. All that remained anyway was the <b><i>GM Book</i></b>, <b>Adventure Book</b>, and <b><i>The Art of Numenera</i></b>.<br />
<br />
Also shame on me for incorrectly identifying a bunch of things; seems I'm a bit rusty in my Ninth World Lore, but I also chalk it up to excitement.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/iaHfVOeUPMM" width="560"></iframe><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
It's difficult to express my initial feelings for this aside from <b><u>I NEED TO RUN THIS GAME AGAIN. NOW.</u></b><br />
<br />
When I <strike>have</strike> get free time, I might provide more thorough impressions of this boxed set, but it already looks pretty sweet. I hope I get the chance to run this game soon; it's been so long since I played <b style="font-style: italic;">Numenera</b>, aside from some virtual tabletop, I don't think I've had the <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/2013/11/numenera-convention-tips-cypher-deck.html" target="_blank">chance to run this game since</a> <b>ConCentric</b> back in 2013.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU1RnyyWNJlWmw2bjapXIdMmeN6p5O8VOJRkWR7linMF87vkoandAQT-a8C-nkbRYfHklniBryp4uJdj0ceLvQ7A2WdcR3XIJIoI79WsxfVA38a7LBmJeDVm7ytYBhMhMsNTrATAUdtOE/s1600/gottacon-rip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU1RnyyWNJlWmw2bjapXIdMmeN6p5O8VOJRkWR7linMF87vkoandAQT-a8C-nkbRYfHklniBryp4uJdj0ceLvQ7A2WdcR3XIJIoI79WsxfVA38a7LBmJeDVm7ytYBhMhMsNTrATAUdtOE/s200/gottacon-rip.jpg" width="200" /></a>On a related sad note, our biggest local gaming convention, <b><a href="http://www.gottacon.com/" target="_blank">GottaCon</a></b>, recently announced that 2015 was their last show. For a number of understandable reasons, the organizers Carson and Evan, decided to close its doors indefinitely. Sad sad news for the island and greater BC gaming community. I'm sure other conventions will arise in its wake, but they'll have some mighty big shoes to fill and it'll be a long while before they become as popular as <b>GottaCon</b>, if they ever do.<br />
<br />
Thank you for the memories <b>GottaCon</b>, you shall be deeply missed. :(<br />
<br />
<h4>
<b>Cheers! ;{١</b></h4>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-25951828302159578562015-07-30T22:01:00.001-07:002015-12-10T21:41:04.637-08:00Kampi's Saga: Pilgrimage of the Mariner - Part 3<span style="font-family: inherit;">During my recent recovery time in and out of the hospital, I came up with what <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank"><b>Kampi</b></a> would be doing during his absence from Dagger Deep. Here is the third and final part.</span><br />
<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The third D</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ay of Tyraz</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Month of the Pasture</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcMRW2WcL_OFfgjTfsOE9ug5KCkzUpTA4r2ClNhnr4TIjRT-aUbYQxpRpbuIDaQvJbhI0w_iyjgMyMAwW3zAcl3EitCtPWqZry211B4y5kUoQ7KNr_7mvQPU3uA4tvbbpsg3uPF8jtFZs/s1600/Othila_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Uruz</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3mVHFdDn2RY72x_OFE63pJFcWojxjAxC1IZm1XgiXZUxVS7eL0ts8gOrRC3C_BXvBgsbhulfJDv9t9CPijOoDGBTXvTj2QaptjDLV77tv6xc-RgffyS0foUlr4JOhDvpF6bZfeyUi8Y/s1600/Uruz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3mVHFdDn2RY72x_OFE63pJFcWojxjAxC1IZm1XgiXZUxVS7eL0ts8gOrRC3C_BXvBgsbhulfJDv9t9CPijOoDGBTXvTj2QaptjDLV77tv6xc-RgffyS0foUlr4JOhDvpF6bZfeyUi8Y/s1600/Uruz_Rune.gif" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Heimdalrig</i>, Watchman of Asgard</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Aurochs, a wild ox</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Courage, Sacrifice, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Strength of Will</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Perseverance, Unharnessed Potential, Vigilance</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Misdirected Force, Rashness, Violence</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />On that moonless night, of the third Thonar's Day, <u>it</u> came. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It has taken me over a fortnight to recover from the events of that nightfall, and I am only now starting to commit my memories to page. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When the crew and I returned to our ship that night, we chose to cast off our mooring to the wharf and anchor in the middle of the inlet until dawn. Secure in our belief that we were physically</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> beyond threat from the creature spoke of by the folk of Bella, we to our mistake only set our usual eventide lookout. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">May the <i>Æsir</i> have mercy upon the spirits lost that night and forgive me for my lack of acuity, for it was the hour of my watchkeeping when that creature noiselessly found its way onto </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">the deck of the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sojourner</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> and silently killed a handful of my shipmates before it came upon me. I must have been fated by the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">norns</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> to live on; I am still in shock I survived that encounter with that a horrific thing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Late into my watch</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, I was drawn to a faint noise; I stumbled upon the headless body of Arnulf, his throat had been torn out violently yet so swiftly his head was later found across the length of the deck. Before a cry could pass my lips I raised my left arm on impulse and by chance warded losing my own neck to a clawed hand that flashed forth from a dark form lurking in the shadows. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The grip on my vambrace threatened to crush my arm; my other hand groped for <i>Sváfnir</i> at my side as I vainly struck out with the heel of my boot, attempting to gain distance from my foe and the other claw that I saw dart forward from the gloom. My graspfclosed around the hilt of my sword and a single swift motion, I unsheathed the blade and batted aside the ghastly arm a mere <i>tomme </i>from my face.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The thing cursed in a torrid voice that made my skin crawl and released my left arm only to drive its steely talons swiftly into my gut. The blow winded me and I felt several links of my maille break and the claws sink into my flesh. Its other hand caught a hold of my arm as I drove at the creature. My body began to shudder as vitality began to preternaturally ebb from it, causing me to break out in a cold sweat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our strife had now drawn shouts of alarm from the crew and I could sense the creature's desire to flee before my companions came to my aid, but resolutely I grasped the offending limb and quickly closed the distance between my foe and I, driving the talons ever deeper into me. Surely, we were locked in an embrace that would only result in my death, but I prayed my allies would succeed where I would fail in destroying this terror and avenging those it had slain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The sound of feet on deck grew with the illumination being brought forth; in a move of desperation, by purchase on my chest and the grip upon right arm, the horror lifted me up and with a mighty burst of strength tossed me over the side of the Sojourner, far out into the cold, dark harbour and to my doom in the awaiting nets of <i>Ránn</i></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It would have entirely succeeded in its endeavour, had I not maintained my own steadfast grip upon its own limb as it heaved me. The sheer force propelled me through the air, but also dragged my foe with me. The whole event left it sprawling over the gunwale as I stuck the side of the hull, my boots splashing in the harbour. As it frantically reached down to dislodge my fading grip, I, with my last <i>ort</i> of strength, swung the sword that still remained in my grasp in an upward arc towards the fiend.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The gods saw the blade struck true.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0k6jHM4tvphwETiDsMBnZr_GmYmfoK75YpKPUPaAilSfR4-7Y-QWvBCRB2dajM2_syLWbPextkgKySyLLeg9DKMIYUGu_kFIEvIIxVnN55kCgqoh7NLqKYeqKvjyJfU7Wp1lt_mhxn_k/s1600/Nachzehrer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0k6jHM4tvphwETiDsMBnZr_GmYmfoK75YpKPUPaAilSfR4-7Y-QWvBCRB2dajM2_syLWbPextkgKySyLLeg9DKMIYUGu_kFIEvIIxVnN55kCgqoh7NLqKYeqKvjyJfU7Wp1lt_mhxn_k/s400/Nachzehrer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The edge dug through the back left side of it's neck and hewed the its head clean off, which tumbled past me, dashed and sunk into the bay below</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">. Its body sagged, lifeless; I was prepared to join it from weakness and exhaustion, but my fellow shipmates quickly retrieved me from my perilous position and hauled me onto the deck, where finally darkness took me away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In a land of mists and echoes, a lone, cloaked figure stood before me, baring a staff in his left hand. His face was obscured by a broad hat, but wisps of a long white beard wagged as he spoke. I do not recall the words, but I understood their intent. From the folds of his robe he produced a large sack and handed it to me. When I opened and gazed into it I awoke.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I started violently and found myself in the longhouse we had supped in the evening before, lying on a cot beside the firepit, my wounds bound and dressed. Nearby sat Lorens, the merchant-captain, and the hamlet's <i>ealdorman</i>. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Seeing that I was was awake, with gladness in their voices, they told me the creature was slain and through my bravery (fortune) I had lifted the curse upon the settlement of Bella. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">They related to me I had been in a feverish slumber for three days even after they administered several of my healing potions and local folk remedies. Though my wounds were mended, for sometime following I suffered from a langour that shortened my breath and sapped the vigor from my thews.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The bodies of our fallen crewmen were given last rites and proper burial in according to their beliefs and customs, which I presided over to the best of my ability. Despite the loss, the folk of Bella were in high spirits and offered me gifts which I politely</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> declined within reason.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the following days celebration, the folk of Bella drank and feasted on the supplies we had brought. A dozen or so of the inhabitants got together and played a sort of ball sport they referred to as '<i>choule'</i>: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Two teams of five players, each armed with wooden sticks, had to gain possession of a ball on a cord and deposit it in the opposing teams' basket to score a point. Whenever a player was struck by an opponents' stick, he must cease moving and kneel to the ground; an unarmed member of their team would rush in from the sidelines, collect their stick, and give it to a team mate waiting in an area behind their goal, who would then join play.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It deeply reminded me somewhat of some of the competitions back in my homeland, like <i>knattleikr</i></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was too ill to participate, but t</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">he </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">ealdorman</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, who presided as an arbiter over the games, further</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> explained</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> to me the rules and gifted me a parchment with a layout of the field of play.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij_vaNzY7Fi-7nKctEd6qprw9eTHoY0okjVWSoCt6Pmu_A4gC5LoeSqwGwcPLAsyLELgpsBlPM9r0ecylnJCk-RIfUijGrxGNWM3pj3pkfrKo4DkWYw5pv7EqIFH3uhnRA4pi8LrlIq0s/s1600/trollball_field.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij_vaNzY7Fi-7nKctEd6qprw9eTHoY0okjVWSoCt6Pmu_A4gC5LoeSqwGwcPLAsyLELgpsBlPM9r0ecylnJCk-RIfUijGrxGNWM3pj3pkfrKo4DkWYw5pv7EqIFH3uhnRA4pi8LrlIq0s/s1600/trollball_field.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Though I am mostly unfamiliar with the local dialect, I understand the areas mentioned.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He related it was what they used play to train warriors and such tradition shall return for practical reasons should they never be helpless to such an evil. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I know not what exactly that monster was, neither does anyone else, but it is truly dead now. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The decollated corpse of the creature, clothed only in a thin ragged shroud, my allies burnt </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">upon a pyre; the ashes of which we intend on scattering across the sea.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> They had searched the waters in vain but could not find the head of the thing. It was I that discovered it, in a rather unsettling place: when I had recovered enough from my injuries to return unaided to where I kept my belongings on the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sojourner,</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> there was the bag I recognized from my dream, resting amongst them. Inside was the head.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Given the uncanny connection I feel with the vision and the act of being 'given' the bag and the object within, I am reticent to dispose of it, though at the same time I long to be rid of the ghastly thing. It sits before me now, it's mouth sewn shut over a coin that I prayed for all the gods to bless. It's sockets cloudy and lifeless. The hue of the tight skin almost stretched over the high ridges of its countenance was that of dark cobalt and surprisingly dry, so unnaturally dessicated that one is given the impression the flesh is preserved from the ravages of time. The head seemed more like that from an ancient barrow-dweller than the agile terror it so recently belonged to.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The head is nearly bald except for a small black plait that grew almost to rod-length from the crown. There are ears pointed like those of an elf or goblin, but larger, more predator like. Before I placed the coin within its jaws and sewn them together, I saw its teeth, though worn and rotted in places, resembled those of a man. In order to close the lips fully (and perhaps as superstitious precaution) I took my hammer and bashed out all of the front teeth before I slid the coin in and took to the macabre task of stitching the lips together.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I sat alone at my task, my mind when over what sort of creature this head belonged to; was it perhaps a <i>draugr</i>? It's body was like a cold and 'deathly black' like corpse skin, but the <i>aptrganga</i>, (again-walkers<i>)</i> and <i>draugr</i> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'd witnessed on Arrakis, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">in their sluggish or </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">savage forms respectively, lack the seer might and cunning of this creature.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Perhaps a vampir then? I have briefly encountered such undead beings, but they apparently appear</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> in the form they once had when living, and are (thankfully?) prone to reason as mortals do. Additionally, vampir are said to seek blood, not wanton carnage as this accursed being did.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I began to recall childhood tales of from realms that lay south beyond the sea of my homeland; one was of an undead creature known to the folk of that land as the </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>nachzehrer</i> (which means something akin to <i>after-living-off</i>). Not a blood-drinker, it apparently devours dead bodies, a creature which some in even farther lands name a <i>ghoul</i>. Still, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I know not if my conjectures</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> are correct; until I learn otherwise, I shall refer to it as the '</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">wight</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">' which simply means 'creature or being'.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When we were alone, I presented the head to the old <i>ealdorman</i> and my captain, and told them how it came into my possession through a dream. The <i>ealdorman</i> related how he believed we had taken the necessary preventative measures to ensure the creature would not return, that my vision had divine provenance, and it would be best if I safeguarded the remains of the '<i>wight</i>'; evidently the gods have fated it. Though he seemed unhappy with the future presence of the head upon his ship, Lorens said he felt it could not be in better custody.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I know not why the <i>All-Father</i> intended for me to come to this benighted hamlet nor why he charged me with the slaying of the <i>wight</i> and the retention of its head. I was dismayed once I took time to inquire with the locals, that they know of no nearby places or names familiar to me. This disheartens me, yet I feel a sense of relief in a way; if all goes well I shall be returning to Arrakis and the township of Dagger Deep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the meantime, this sport or prowess fascinates me; if only I could find something to use as a ball...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Æsir</span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>-Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
</div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-57415011214882843762015-07-27T14:00:00.000-07:002015-12-10T21:40:37.664-08:00Kampi's Saga: Pilgrimage of the Mariner - Part 2<span style="font-family: inherit;">During my recent recovery time in and out of the hospital, I came up with what <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank"><b>Kampi</b></a> would be doing during his absence from Dagger Deep. Here's part two!</span><br />
<hr />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The first </span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thonar's Day</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Of the month of the Pasture</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcMRW2WcL_OFfgjTfsOE9ug5KCkzUpTA4r2ClNhnr4TIjRT-aUbYQxpRpbuIDaQvJbhI0w_iyjgMyMAwW3zAcl3EitCtPWqZry211B4y5kUoQ7KNr_7mvQPU3uA4tvbbpsg3uPF8jtFZs/s1600/Othila_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Fehu</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3mQdOKWPeoMSLEUnYdO4gV0Sz-jSQom0HfJBy3OOnEF-Kh5PiAmp7RRpAuGv7aX9biGTcB4YidjTQfXlW-ZVbrAZ1sUPlixHUQCALKPM_BfXGiPAOQjxwWi2cYouvY38c3OHOCOd04U/s1600/Fehu_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3mQdOKWPeoMSLEUnYdO4gV0Sz-jSQom0HfJBy3OOnEF-Kh5PiAmp7RRpAuGv7aX9biGTcB4YidjTQfXlW-ZVbrAZ1sUPlixHUQCALKPM_BfXGiPAOQjxwWi2cYouvY38c3OHOCOd04U/s1600/Fehu_Rune.gif" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> <i>Forsite</i>, the law-speaker. God of Laws, Justice, & Trade</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Cattle</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Fortune, Trust, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Wealth</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Foresight, Growth, Success</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Avarice, Dependence, Poverty</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
We have arrived in the tiny trading settlement of Bella, a scant collection of dilapidated structures surrounded by stakewall that extends into the harbour some distance on either side where we docked our ship at the small wharf. I had come to learn the majority of trade goods we were carrying on the <i>Sojourner</i> were farmed foodstuffs like grains, turnips, cabbage, and so on, with good reason; the surrounding forestland would hamper field farming. I surmised that the locals of this village must subsist on a diet of mostly local fish and livestock, like my own folk of the north. I learned my assumption was correct, but not entirely true.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
Like the vessel I travelled upon, I noticed several distinctions between the make of the structures here that matched not only with my own country, but of similar neighbouring people like the Celtfolk. Still the differences where great enough to dissuade me from jumping to my desired conclusion that I was near familiar lands; I hoped a chance conversing with the locals might provide the knowledge of what I seek.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
We ported our trade goods into a longhouse whose outer walls one could not help but notice were hastily reinforced hither and yon with timber boards over damaged sections. Though largely empty the interior bore the faint odour of a large gathering of living beings. During our several trips carrying goods a scant crowd formed; several of the larger men aided our task, and it was then I was able to see them up close in the fading daylight: at first glance our assistants were undoubtedly the burlier folk of the settlement, but they were still quite haggard and thin. I soon discovered why.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
When we were at last done and gathered together in another similarly battered hall to take part in a "feast in our honour" whilst merchant-captain Lorens discussed trade with their leader, which they referred to as the '<i>ealdorman'</i>. We sat around the firepit whilst locals brought us dishes to sup upon, the fare of which was meagre; we slowly began to understand the foodstores in Bella: the bitter-tasting flatbreads were made with bark flour and the thin pottage was thickened with pieces of offal, seaweed, dandelion and nettle greens. The smoked fish provided was the most palpable dish, though very little was catered. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2BsJbMOznfE2JQk1EKmfUAp8-ADRspT4BWyJzOO3aWu0ZbN_sAz7nLpOcMsUEynrTa4M_m3webRZjddeofqMM2UApTEJhifWiVGZ7odypI9jzOmu2y34Ff-cs1q8hZlgCuMiGetEb7ds/s1600/barnacle_geese.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2BsJbMOznfE2JQk1EKmfUAp8-ADRspT4BWyJzOO3aWu0ZbN_sAz7nLpOcMsUEynrTa4M_m3webRZjddeofqMM2UApTEJhifWiVGZ7odypI9jzOmu2y34Ff-cs1q8hZlgCuMiGetEb7ds/s200/barnacle_geese.png" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Nevertheless, despite the wanting meal, I, along with the rest of the crew, politely declined to dine upon the long, rubbery neck of some type of fowl these folk called a <i>'goo duck</i>'. (Must be a less savoury relative of the barnacle goose I've heard certain holy-men dine off of during periods of religious fasting? At times I find many of the ways of other faiths peculiar.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Whilst we dined, the <i>ealdorman </i>(with surprisingly little haggling), agreed on behalf of the village to trade over half their stock of commodities (furs, scrimshaw, dried/salted fish, timber) for the goods that we had brought. Before our company had the chance to agree to this rather generous offer, the elder quietly inquired how many passengers could our vessel be filled with. Without showing our collective concern, our leader replied that loaded with the traded goods we could take but a few.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Without thinking, I asked if his query was related to the haggard state of the folk here; were they facing starvation or perhaps sickness wrought by a scarce game? Speaking directly to me with a haunted look, he said not entirely, and told us a grim tale:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For several months the folk of this place had been beset by a horror that slew their best fighters. It continually strikes on the blackest of nights, which hides its form in the shadows and darkness, but it is agreed upon it's shape is not that of a beast, but like a man but with dark colouration. Nor like a beast has it been mindless in its predations; in the early weeks it struck at Bella's granary and larder, setting them alight and burning the majority of their foodstores.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After that the creature began to prey upon the townsfolk in earnest, occasionally returning the corpses of those slain as reanimated dead monstrosities. The populace has been decimated by these attacks; the few able warriors that remain are unfit/unwilling to face the creature and all the folk have been taking refuge in the longhouse where we unloaded our goods; the elder bid we all head there now before the night grew to its darkest.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As we arose and made our way, the elder related the horror seems content to let the folk of Bella lapse into starvation, for though it sends undead to batter against the walls of their shelter, it never assaults the longhouse directly; though they know it remains nearby for they can hear it mutter threats and commands in a foul tongue and ransack the empty buildings.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once we were outside the entrance to their shelter, which was now filling up with the haggard community, the <i>ealdorman </i>had come to the conclusion why he asked about passage upon our ship: many families were willing to pay what little they had remaining to barter passage upon the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sojourner</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> and flee this benighted place. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our merchant-captain promised he would take such offers under serious consideration and his answer would be given on the morrow. Although we were implored by the locals to shelter with them in the longhouse, I advised the company should perhaps remain with the ship, for if this being was as clever as told, it would surely seek to render our vessel unseaworthy. The captain concurred; we returned to our moored ship and set watches as the ominous</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> twilight deepened. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I feel I need to gather myself before I relate what happened that eventide.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Praise Be To The Æsir</b> </span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>-Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
</div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-87204381358181126282015-07-19T12:00:00.003-07:002015-12-10T21:40:16.243-08:00Kampi's Saga: Pilgrimage of the Mariner - Part 1During my recent recovery time in and out of the hospital, I've come up with what <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Saga" target="_blank"><b>Kampi</b></a> is doing during his absence from Dagger Deep and finally got around to posting part one.<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Midsummer Solstice </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sun's Day of the month of the Sun (most fitting)</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6UVelKtcVPn733_LarwjbkDEZfNKXqqfGZV_BLfZ4riw5ehxvomHYA0R5LRJOtbonbMEPo3Dt66MQqSwwiWbG60aKsrGO8q_0oVxXPjigD-YXD_StYpGYzzY0aWNGucMQQYSqyEccxA/s1600/Dagaz_Rune.gif" /></span></a><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcMRW2WcL_OFfgjTfsOE9ug5KCkzUpTA4r2ClNhnr4TIjRT-aUbYQxpRpbuIDaQvJbhI0w_iyjgMyMAwW3zAcl3EitCtPWqZry211B4y5kUoQ7KNr_7mvQPU3uA4tvbbpsg3uPF8jtFZs/s1600/Othila_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Dagaz</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> No direct association.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Day or Dawn</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Awakening, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Balance,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Longing for Change</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Clarity, Hope, Trust</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> Distrust, Sadness, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Uncertainty</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For several days we've crossed the sea, personally hoping to discover the source of my compulsion. We have sailed on a north-westerly course along the Malkavian Sea between the isle of Arrakus on our larbord and the mainlands to our steorbord. We have just passed the northern most tip of the island and are to continue hugging the easterly coast until it brings us to a series of fjords that link to the vessel's destination: a small trading settlement that has managed to thrive in the "cold" northlands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The type of ship I've been journeying in has been referred to as a '</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Kogg</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">', as I believe it would be spelt, by my shipmates. Apparently its design is somewhat old but still serviceable. I've found many similarities with the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Knarrs</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> of my folk; it is primary powered by sail, but can be manned by oars if needed. I am very grateful the captain permitted my employ; possibly because of my knowledge of seacraft and carpentry, but I believe more so because of ability to heal. I've heard it told that it is considered ill fortune if a ship sails without a healer, a wise adage indeed. The crew name it the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sojourner</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> and it is a fine vessel.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This day marks the beginning of true summer, at least it would in the lands where I am from. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The weather has been conducive to sailing, bright and clear but with a strong breeze to alleviate the heat. My shipmates seem to be good folk, and I have spent my free time ensuring that the ship's stores have at least half-a-dozen potions of healing on-hand in case of accidental injury.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I best get some sleep before the long day of seafaring tomorrow. I feels good to once again feel the wind through my hair, the spray of the ocean upon my skin, and to the hear timber creak; though my thoughts stray back to the lost kin I sailed with during that ill-fated voyage almost a year ago, and then to those I left behind in Dagger Deep. I pray to the gods of the sea that our journey north is successful and unhindered, and that they watch over my friends whilst I am gone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Until my next entry.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Praise Be To The Æsir</b> </span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>-Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
</div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-44533905543965602012015-07-11T12:07:00.000-07:002015-07-11T12:07:03.672-07:00Lusus Naturae, Narcosa, & NSFW - ImpressionsWhilst I was recently recovering in the hospital (see <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/2015/07/happy-canada-day-post-surgery-post.html" target="_blank">previous post</a>), one day my Missus brought to me an unexpected hardback that I had received in the mail; t'was <b><a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/rafaelchandler/lusus-naturae-a-gruesome-old-school-bestiary" target="_blank">Lusus Naturae</a></b>, a gruesome old-school bestiary written by the appallingly astute <a class="g-profile" href="https://plus.google.com/117163681806482190070" target="_blank">+Rafael Chandler</a> and illustrated by the terrifyingly talented <a class="g-profile" href="https://plus.google.com/104505773542750531579" target="_blank">+Gennifer Bone</a>, which I had backed an age ago on kickstarter.<br />
<br />
Given the awful sweat-drenched, fever-induced nightmares I was having at the time, I thought it perhaps wise that I opted not to add such text to my current infirmary reading pile.<br />
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<br />
But now that I've been home all safe and comfortable with the majority of my illnesses behind me, in my air conditioned man-cave, a beer in hand, with heavy metal rumbling over my speakers, I cracked the covers of this horrible handbook.<br />
<br />
Yes. I fully stand by my decision to prolong subjecting myself to the 133 pages of horrors within without proper ambiance, else I'm sure I'd be unable to appreciate them to their fullest extent.<br />
<br />
The themes herein are most definitely geared towards dark/weird fantasy worlds and the minimalist mechanics presented work best with OSR games (particularly <i><b>Laminations of the Flame Princess</b></i> on both counts), but the content of <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/rafaelchandler/lusus-naturae-a-gruesome-old-school-bestiary" style="font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Lusus Naturae</a> can easily be adapted to a variety of RPGs; in particular I see much of the concepts in this bestiary working quite well in <i><b>Numenera</b></i>.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvJfdaz5pXrCDlXo1YvNS1GD6GqzlxZHp0lh_GVF6dJWuGyv_M-mGDgqAKgp-G8AZe-fu-xjUor012XIHjhoIBJZDnhX_7Cft_vFyI1Y3WQszRv0nttoKspCP30kPqaAEj7uetcJwSCU/s1600/2015-07-09+16.22.40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvJfdaz5pXrCDlXo1YvNS1GD6GqzlxZHp0lh_GVF6dJWuGyv_M-mGDgqAKgp-G8AZe-fu-xjUor012XIHjhoIBJZDnhX_7Cft_vFyI1Y3WQszRv0nttoKspCP30kPqaAEj7uetcJwSCU/s400/2015-07-09+16.22.40.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Gelatinous Hypercube. Friggin' Genius.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My advice for a simple mechanics conversion to the <i>Cypher System</i> is make the level of the creature equal to it's listed hit dice, as the vast majority of never go above 10 HD anyway (and the few that do are more suited to plot-tied campaigns than single encounters). The rest of the pertinent creature details and modifications can easily be discerned by reading the entry and the GM deciding the rest of the relevant info.<br />
<br />
Aside from an excellent and varied creature catalogue, the book also contains a useful appendix of anagrammed spells (like Plane Shift to a Fish Planet), a seriously decent random monster generator, a random disease creator with a bunch of historical examples, and a list of objects found in a monster's lair.<br />
<br />
All in all, well worth the money I spent ($35) and the time I waited (over a year). The PDF of this work can be found [<a href="http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/147685/Lusus-Naturae" target="_blank">here</a>] and is currently on sale for just $10.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodlnxR3YbJ-rJ1R5OpzlbclhNQvdUWJw6UCdLpFarJ5UKnykGVZayZ1Bmfmz-bSYgyJ6-LE0BWcD8tv3QCVHOnMkmBixdOnoQJ_YjR2SPISo_zSkPkxxBre7XixDbsYF6WbShXfJj1CE/s1600/Narcosa-cover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodlnxR3YbJ-rJ1R5OpzlbclhNQvdUWJw6UCdLpFarJ5UKnykGVZayZ1Bmfmz-bSYgyJ6-LE0BWcD8tv3QCVHOnMkmBixdOnoQJ_YjR2SPISo_zSkPkxxBre7XixDbsYF6WbShXfJj1CE/s200/Narcosa-cover.png" width="135" /></a>It's also worth noting that several of the entries in <b>Lusus Naturae</b> make reference to a free collaborative work by the OSR community, also edited and compiled by Chandler, known as <a href="http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/137248/Narcosa" target="_blank"><b>Narcosa</b></a>. This 100+ page PDF is <u><b>free;</b></u> fans of it may also purchase a softcover version [<a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/rafael-chandler/narcosa-softcover/paperback/product-21831347.html" target="_blank">here</a>].<br />
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I haven't had the time to read through the whole collection but I get the impression if you want even more gonzo, acid-and-mushrooms-in-wonderland material for your games, <b>Narcosa</b> is bound to contain your preferred poison.<br />
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I also realized that I never had a chance to give another one of Chandler's works (again for <b style="font-style: italic;">LotFP</b> and other retro-clones) a good read through and review; the adventure <b><a href="https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/no-salvation-for-witches-a-pay-what-you-want-book#/story" target="_blank">No Salvation For Witches</a></b> (or <b>NSFW </b>as it's appropriately known). Now that the indiegogo campaign has funded, one can purchase either a PDF and/or a hardcover print copy [<a href="http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/134386/No-Salvation-for-Witches" target="_blank">here</a>] or [<a href="http://www.lotfp.com/store/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=188" target="_blank">here</a>].<br />
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<b>No Salvation For Witches</b>, in my opinion, seems like an okay adventure. Sure, it has some superb evocative art and some clever parts (I enjoyed all the historical references), but the whole thing kinda seems like a tiny sandbox that only has one interesting thing at each location vaguely tied around a timed event.<br />
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Perhaps that's more than plenty for the PC's to do given they're limited to the in-game 24-hour time-frame and mayhap that's meant to keep them from getting too distracted from the global-altering ritual that's occurring, but it feels to me all the listed encounters and locales could do with a bit more description/flavor; the same goes with fleshing out certain NPCs' motivations/reasons why they're present. Saying rampant magic caused it kinda seems like a cop-out when it's used to explain away the majority of the weird goings-on.<br />
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That said, <b>NSFW</b> might be best suited for a convention game or a single session where time is limited anyway and one doesn't have to worry about the PC's missing the most interesting parts of the adventure because they're bogged down with something unrelated when the proverbial clock strikes zero.<br />
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I liken it to being trapped in a haunted house till sunrise and given free reign; some groups might chase/capture/fight the monster in the rubber mask, some might spend all night trying to unlock the broom-closet because they think there's something vital in there (there isn't). But this perhaps can be argued with any time-sensitive adventure.<br />
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An interesting quasi-adventure, but I have little desire to ever run it. Though the Tract of Teratology in the latter part of the book provides more random-generated material (this time summoning ritual flavoured) for use in other games, <b>No Salvation For Witches</b> left me mildly disappointed when I finished it.<br />
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I guess I was just expecting more; though it is worth noting that the indiegogo campaign for <b>NSFW</b> was "Pay What You Want", so for certain individuals might've got a really good deal for the amount they contributed. Me, I think I got my value, despite being a bit disappointed by the seemingly limited content.<br />
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I think the post-campaign hardcover price of 22€ seems a little steep for the content provided; the PDF seems a better deal. But then again you could get the larger, perhaps more useful <a href="http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/147685/Lusus-Naturae"><b>Lusus Naturae</b></a> PDF for the same price...<br /><br /><div>
Just sayin'.<br /></div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-6057333750185534412015-07-01T16:00:00.002-07:002015-08-03T14:15:13.629-07:00Happy Canada Day! (Post-Surgery Post)<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Happy Canada Day to all my fellow Canadians! </h2>
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I'm back home after my 8-day stint in the hospital following the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laparoscopic_surgery" target="_blank">laprascopic</a> <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nephrectomy#Partial_Nephrectomy" target="_blank">partial nephrectomy</a> on my left kidney! The preferred methodology of removing the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renal_cell_carcinoma" target="_blank">renal cell carcinoma</a> that was present was a success, though I developed a few complications that followed the operation that prolonged the time spent in the hospital more than anticipated. But as of yesterday afternoon, I've been back in my own home and beginning the hopefully not long process of recovery and restoring my health to the state it was in before surgery.<br />
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For posterity sake, I'll provide an overview of all the things my body went through:<br />
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The Sunday prior to surgery I was on a liquid diet (so hungry) and had to do a bunch of pre-surgery prep. During the wee hours of the 22nd, our good friend Todd dropped the Missus and I off at Victoria General Hospital for my 6am admitting. A couple hours later I was off to surgery. The goal (factor depending) was for my surgeons to perform a partial nephrectomy via laprascopic surgery.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtfud46jOiuRewsayHaLaTmoFSzGf87v1F_LMe__NY68b-XbAt-kqv8aTI9_1-wWXdqizi8sfnNOTnrYK_QNLvAmWwo7R_aAahQPkNA48kiQ8L9lVA5C2OvU_BFbbvT0ZNgJ1yUmUVTA/s1600/2015-06-22+06.50.37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtfud46jOiuRewsayHaLaTmoFSzGf87v1F_LMe__NY68b-XbAt-kqv8aTI9_1-wWXdqizi8sfnNOTnrYK_QNLvAmWwo7R_aAahQPkNA48kiQ8L9lVA5C2OvU_BFbbvT0ZNgJ1yUmUVTA/s200/2015-06-22+06.50.37.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnuKjIIsshxlo5hUeSnMxSnVD3PF0JPc50HMdrp0rYGZExRQg-uI87E_UaM7GBBFyrxG0mTerJ3-BIsEDg1ziIV16hNc2EaFuyHBMirk7qgrKCz2MPJVbzosoJXHCedzZFeVwNZwggJuM/s1600/2015-06-22+06.50.49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnuKjIIsshxlo5hUeSnMxSnVD3PF0JPc50HMdrp0rYGZExRQg-uI87E_UaM7GBBFyrxG0mTerJ3-BIsEDg1ziIV16hNc2EaFuyHBMirk7qgrKCz2MPJVbzosoJXHCedzZFeVwNZwggJuM/s200/2015-06-22+06.50.49.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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Hours later I awoke in the recovery room (partially cognitive, as I recall asking the nurse watching me my blood type: B+; I surprisingly didn't know that before then.) and mentioning that the fluid in my drain looked like tomato soup. xP</div>
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Soon I was transferred to my bed on the 7th floor Uruology ward and was told the post-op results of the procedure: it was as successful as intended, the tumour was removed with a minor complication; the vein above it had to be partially removed and reconstructed during the enucleation of the tumour.</div>
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I was surprised how uncomfortable this laprascopic procedure was compared to the previous one I had, though I'm sure no two laprascopic surgeries are going to be the same and this time I was left with half of an unhappy organ; my abdomen was swollen from trauma and bloated from the residual carbon dioxide they inflate your belly with during keyhole surgery.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not exactly what occurred, but a close enough representation.</td></tr>
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But it turns out my discomfort wasn't entirely unjustified: A day or so later whilst I was recovering, I had to take a chest X-ray that confirmed I had developed pneumonia in my lungs (explaining the shortness of breath); and an <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angiography#Complications" target="_blank">Angiograph</a>/<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interventional_radiology" target="_blank">Interventional Radiology</a> to locate and insert a pair of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stent" target="_blank">Stents</a> into one of the operated upon kidney's arteries that was bleeding into my ureter.</div>
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I soon ended up with a fever which made for some awful nightmares and several horribly sweaty sleeps during those nights; I broke that fever Sunday night I believe, as Monday was the first day I was back to feeling 'normal': fever gone, breath improving, pain diminished. I was ready to be discharged.<br />
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Unfortunately at the time doctors felt my blood O2 levels were still too low, and on a hunch had me scheduled for a CT Scan of my chest to see if I had developed a possible blood clot. The test didn't end up happening till late evening, well after my supper had arrived; I was finally getting my appetite back and I couldn't eat it because I had to keep a clear stomach prior to the scan! Anyway the test came back negative. No blood clots!<br />
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People who know me well, know that once I start getting uppity and vocal about staying in the hospital longer than I feel <i>I</i> need to, I must be feeling better. I have tremendous patience for all this medical stuff, but once I feel healthy enough to leave I want to go! Mind you this whole thing had already had gone from a 2-4 day stay to over a week, so I was getting quite antsy at this point.<br />
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Unplugged from everything (drain, catheter, IV drip, and eventually O2 support) the only thing prolonging my stay was my still low O2 levels and the antibiotics they were administering for my pneumonia. I expressed my frustrations to wonderful nursing student who bent the ear of a couple doctors to discharge me. After a quick phone call with my specialist I was released with a prescription for the rest of my course of antibiotics!<br />
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Yesterday afternoon my good buddy Ash picked me up from the hospital and brought me home. I can't say how good it feels to be back; I still have some time to recover fully, but being comfortable with my best girl is vital to retaining my health.<br />
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Enjoy your Canada Day everyone!</h4>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4703713163872157788.post-90463951317278880492015-06-17T12:02:00.000-07:002015-12-10T21:39:46.690-08:00Kampi's Saga: A Cruel Turn of Fate<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This is will be the last entry of <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/search/label/Kampi%27s%20Edda" target="_blank">Kampi's Saga</a> for some time that directly relates to in-game events until I again attend <b>Medieval Chaos</b> as this particular character. In less than a week's time I'm going in for an operation; taking care of that <a href="http://jerreth-esq.blogspot.ca/2015/05/life-of-riley-vhl-concerns.html" target="_blank">concern on my kidney</a>. Being a complex procedure, the success of the surgery will dictate my recovery time and ergo when I am physically fit enough to attend as a fighting PC like Kampi, much less a non-combatant.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Speaking of a non-com character, I've got one in the works; He has his debut the week prior and I'm bringing him out again this coming Saturday for my last day at <b>MC</b>. If I feel he warrants it, I mayhap start a blog series on him.</span><br />
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</span> <b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Wodin's Day, the 17th of the month of the Sun</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Local Year 5315</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcMRW2WcL_OFfgjTfsOE9ug5KCkzUpTA4r2ClNhnr4TIjRT-aUbYQxpRpbuIDaQvJbhI0w_iyjgMyMAwW3zAcl3EitCtPWqZry211B4y5kUoQ7KNr_7mvQPU3uA4tvbbpsg3uPF8jtFZs/s1600/Othila_Rune.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcMRW2WcL_OFfgjTfsOE9ug5KCkzUpTA4r2ClNhnr4TIjRT-aUbYQxpRpbuIDaQvJbhI0w_iyjgMyMAwW3zAcl3EitCtPWqZry211B4y5kUoQ7KNr_7mvQPU3uA4tvbbpsg3uPF8jtFZs/s1600/Othila_Rune.gif" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Rune:</u> Othila</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Divine Association:</u> the goddess <i>Frigg</i>, consort of <i>Wodin </i>and matron of the <i>Æsir</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Literal Meaning:</u> Inheritance</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Interpretations:</u> Estate, Heritage, Tradition</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Right-side:</u> Endowment, Familial ties, Legacy</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Inverted:</u> False Entitlement, Loss, Separation</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
Tomorrow, at dawn's light, I am to leave Arrakis. </span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There is a ship awaiting me in the harbour of Helm's Deep, bound to the far northern lands of this realm. It is there I seek perhaps a landmark or culture that may provide proof that the homelands of my kin may be reached by physical journey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I did not make such choice to leave on a whim; believe me that I deeply ruminated upon it. What I've been feeling for the past months, is a growing compulsion; a strong desire that I believe to be almost divine in nature. Though recent events and my own desires compel me to stay, I have sworn oaths and made sacrifices to the gods of the sea and travel for their favour and after seeing several portents I will not change my decision.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
I was hoping my fellow shipwreck-survivor, Volm, would have returned from his journey east before I departed, but he has yet to do so and it has been sometime since I received word from him, so I must travel alone. The desire to reconnect with any of my remaining kin, to let them know what happened to myself and my fellow mariners during that ill-fated voyage drives me to tarry no longer, despite the incidents of the past <i>laugardagr</i></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">:</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I mentioned, I saw many a divine omen that day: the first was an encounter with a follower of the <i>God of Thunder</i> whose faith in his calling had begun to waver: Elfranco, I believe is how his name would be spelt. It seemed that his former master, a member of the mercenary group known as the Butchers Bill, abandoned him mid-tutelage. His incomplete training and sparse knowledge of the god he followed combined with the recent complete schism between the false church of <i>Thor</i> (now known as <i>Khorne</i>, one of the four chaos deities collectively worshipped as <i>the Undivided</i> as they are called) and the true <i>Guardian of Asgard</i>, <i>Thonar</i> (or <i>Thor</i> as he is better known locally) has left this young pupil doubting his future.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
The unsavoury site of worship to these chaos deities occupies the previous site where the hospital was originally planned to stand, and I was to aid in its construction. I have several reasons to dislike this cult, but this furthers my mistrust: The fact that the mentor to this young disciple abandoned his charge is disgraceful; the bond between mentor and student should be sacred.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
But, if this turn of events has shifted Elfranco toward to the true path of the <i>God of Thunder</i>, or at least to a master of a noble deity much better suited to training him than his previous one, then I cannot discount the entire affair for it is the will of the gods. I would train him myself, but I do not feel as I am yet ready for such a full responsibility; though the <i>Allfather</i> is my guide, I have made it my duty to know all members of the pantheon of the <i>Æsir</i> and he seeks the path of the Cleric just as I do. I thus tried to impart some of my wisdom and knowledge to him as best as I was able to during our short time together. If I return to this land, I hope to see him in a position of stronger faith.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvACKg7HCHvSOu8-0Vn_uNP7a3L-gG3NM9eidTUyii4HkSFfScaORcEOstAyiK_Ts8wxW8dLRvTKNo8p1X19P0BkTqvwPNlStL65H3koDJIzVV47BD9Y1FVgFZBgqLFmHM4zfzWrDHsw/s1600/Vardhilf_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvACKg7HCHvSOu8-0Vn_uNP7a3L-gG3NM9eidTUyii4HkSFfScaORcEOstAyiK_Ts8wxW8dLRvTKNo8p1X19P0BkTqvwPNlStL65H3koDJIzVV47BD9Y1FVgFZBgqLFmHM4zfzWrDHsw/s320/Vardhilf_drawn.jpg" width="238" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The next omen I saw that day was a raven, which I felt must have been one of the two belonging to the <i>Lord of the Golden</i> <i>Hall</i>, either Huginn or Muninn. How do I know this? For it is under the watchful gaze of this sacred bird, there was a deepening of my belief: I felt that my reserve of faith was greater and that I could preform new acts of credence; even my mail and the small shield I had begun to carry (aptly named <i>Lillhlif</i>, which means Little-Shield in the tongue of my people), which before that point had felt ungainly, now seemed almost intuitive bulwarks that would keep me from harm. All of this I instinctively knew was but a temporary boon granted by the <i>Æsir</i> to see if I would prove myself worthy as a acolyte of their divine will.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />And set forth to prove my convictions I did when a threat arose against the town (as is often to occur); I rallied behind a fighter by the name of Oenomaus, whom I met of recent, having approached me claiming to be a friend of Kail and one of the few ex-members of the kingdom of Hrogn (a kingdom in which many of the members have caused me grief as of late, it was comforting to meet one no longer bound by their service).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Though at times we became separated and I fell often to death (mostly by powerful magic or the balls from flintlocks wielded by honourless cowards, things neither my combat-prowess nor my protective gear could avail me), I did prove my mettle by felling many a foe by my sword <i>Sváfnir</i> (Slayer), and by my sæx <i>Hrafnefr</i> (Raven-Beak), with the aid of my comrades in arms. There were a few times I was able to lay my hands upon a fallen or wounded ally and through my newly gained revelation I was able to restore their vitality in measures. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixGt70hXUgPEvToCx1kpp8nreWsWqwF6rBK-MupN1uiSixruZ-Qwov-y9hw2OYfdtFi7rzoAn8eSL8tI7mnpsISRrucF56OVssKQFq9bKV435JSURepP26sIFF7uttGfR08hiRjZZaPAk/s1600/Odthrerir_symbol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixGt70hXUgPEvToCx1kpp8nreWsWqwF6rBK-MupN1uiSixruZ-Qwov-y9hw2OYfdtFi7rzoAn8eSL8tI7mnpsISRrucF56OVssKQFq9bKV435JSURepP26sIFF7uttGfR08hiRjZZaPAk/s200/Odthrerir_symbol.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The pair of recently painted holy symbols that</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> I bore upon my the fore and aft of my tunic (three intertwined drinking horns representing the vessels containing the mythical Mead of Poetry the <i>Chief of the </i></span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Æsir</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">acquired through cunning and craft) when combined with my clerical foci further lessened the toll such acts would have dealt my reserves of will. It pleased me much to discover the addition of such revered images to my vestment provided directly beneficial that day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Alas, I became overconfident of my new-found abilities, for when I paused to pray and replenish my exhausted willpower, I requested my smith friend Seppo (who is a master artisan above all in the ways of working metal and leather), to work his talent upon the restoration of my damaged armour whilst I was making my devotions.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> That was the moment of hubris that caused the fall from the grace granted to me by the <i>Allfather</i>. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAcSQKd6KjVmy1rRhK-PSqR3Zr0XY8pROr7HSq1rvbxvxK_rrddm7Kn_5xJJ3Xu9_DEHH5XBqpRuqVgo9E0bcTH7cKEMceUYSEMdX__d1AJim4PZ3AsOVeoFg9agE77yOSX01-BJfrwM/s1600/Sprig%252C+Kampi%252C+Seppo_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAcSQKd6KjVmy1rRhK-PSqR3Zr0XY8pROr7HSq1rvbxvxK_rrddm7Kn_5xJJ3Xu9_DEHH5XBqpRuqVgo9E0bcTH7cKEMceUYSEMdX__d1AJim4PZ3AsOVeoFg9agE77yOSX01-BJfrwM/s400/Sprig%252C+Kampi%252C+Seppo_drawn.jpg" width="297" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was presumptuous to believe my connection with the <i>Æsir</i> was firm enough not to be distracted by Seppo working upon my mail. I was wrong for I see now the connection was made tenuous and even if the gods were able to hear my worship, perhaps they did not answer my prayers to teach me a harsh lesson: the true faithful shall not seek to benefit during their time in prayer from desires of a physical nature. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I now see that my overconfidence masked my diminished faith; and I can see now that when I last laid my hands upon an ally to restore them to life, I had only half the willpower needed to bring them back from beyond the veil; the remaining portion must have been given directly by the gods. Praise be to them for finishing the task this too-eager disciple had set forth but could not complete on his own.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
I then soon came to learn of the err of my ways when the boon of a greater faithful servant began to fade with the coming of twilight. I had failed their test. I was not yet considered worthy of such responsibility. I shall remain a humble apprentice until I am deemed fit to rise again to their challenge.</span><br />
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The battle was fierce but desperate that day, against grim forces consisting siege <i>jötunn</i>, vile creatures known as feastlings, dishonourable goblinoid pirates, and other, perhaps worse beings, the culminating events ended more dire: our foe collectively succeeded in a ritual to summon a being of near godlike power known as <i>Yog'So'Thoth</i>. Even the bravest warriors fled before this winged, tentacled horror that walks as men do. I did not chance to glance upon it myself, but many have described this loathsome creature to me. Below is a composite sketch:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0s9jORKKNWr-nl9WpY4QMp2HDw9IH0-Rc4BTcgCAQVc3WSQufpgaiEjz1QsxH0XW-viCW2hm9ekaGAn67oCxxe4nitdmlVaxNnIN3QzR6O-_oQvS3eppH0cvm0QQmPfrlv8hfBoCrDnU/s1600/Yog%2527So%2527Thoth_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0s9jORKKNWr-nl9WpY4QMp2HDw9IH0-Rc4BTcgCAQVc3WSQufpgaiEjz1QsxH0XW-viCW2hm9ekaGAn67oCxxe4nitdmlVaxNnIN3QzR6O-_oQvS3eppH0cvm0QQmPfrlv8hfBoCrDnU/s400/Yog%2527So%2527Thoth_drawn.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
After it and its forces suddenly disappeared to who shudders to think where, news began to spread of the horrendous deeds done in their wake: Amongst the counted dead was the warrior Oenomaus, who witnesses tell me he suffered great indignities before that vile creature: the entity tore and twisted each of his limbs, caused him a magically-induced pain, silenced his screams of agony before finally devouring his very soul.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5PTNQuDpeoKJ9DNRd6nMq7Rg0wx_9baT30o1ckVF8e58w1PDp4sDBIxH0EeQ2DuQk44Kba6Usw2N-poTdfEGST-PU2fKjmnWqF1T-DFVyPUmL7mess8qKhPcBzMGnMx62p3zV54BPBVE/s1600/Oenomaus_drawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5PTNQuDpeoKJ9DNRd6nMq7Rg0wx_9baT30o1ckVF8e58w1PDp4sDBIxH0EeQ2DuQk44Kba6Usw2N-poTdfEGST-PU2fKjmnWqF1T-DFVyPUmL7mess8qKhPcBzMGnMx62p3zV54BPBVE/s400/Oenomaus_drawn.jpg" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I shall see you in Valhalla one day, brave Oenomaus.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I cannot help but contemplate on the nature of that horrid creature; it nearly defies description, but surely it must have some root in the sagas of my people. I initially thought it was a form of the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Midgard Serpent</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> given it's visual affinity for water, but after careful consideration it must be an aspect of the </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Malice Striker</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nidthogg</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, a creature that forever gnaws upon the roots of the cosmic tree that keep it imprisoned. It's freedom is one of the heralds of </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ragnarök </i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">as the tree</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">begins to wither and die from having its roots torn.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvE4byof6Fcy6uIIUCUjGDvU_wFVNZw7kA8VcfgvXhY6aYD2l93W6-xu6WHUzkksygAmwvwwxB1a3bPrdPi-zXJSI4YMDAIgAk58hLYDXFNGBPnH3e-yH1_8VcemS9bCKHJTC2myS1WU/s1600/nidhogg_symbol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvE4byof6Fcy6uIIUCUjGDvU_wFVNZw7kA8VcfgvXhY6aYD2l93W6-xu6WHUzkksygAmwvwwxB1a3bPrdPi-zXJSI4YMDAIgAk58hLYDXFNGBPnH3e-yH1_8VcemS9bCKHJTC2myS1WU/s200/nidhogg_symbol.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I heard tell that this was not the first time the inhabitants of this land have encountered <i>Yog'So'Thoth</i>; that must mean <i>That-Which-Forever-Gnaws</i> is able to escape its imprisonment in Náströnd to wreak havoc upon the realms of mortals. This begs the question, has it fully succeeded in severing the root keeping it bound and we are but a step closer </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Ragnarök</i></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, or if it was only able to escape through ritual summoning does that mean the root remains somewhat whole but forcing it back to the realm whence it came may ensure the inevitable death of </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yggdrasil? </i><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All these dark thoughts and dire events make it even more difficult to leave. I do not want to be seen a coward fleeing from these troubles, but I have already sworn to embark upon this journey and the signs further direct me to the north.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
After all that had transpired I became deeply sullen and took to drink. I stated my intentions to leave to my closest friend Tobias and his companion Ori, and we said our farewells. Afterwards I met again with Seppo and by his suggestion we journeyed to the river to wash away the grime of battle on my skin and the tarnish upon my soul. Thrice immersing myself in those waters lifted my spirit a bit and gave me some measure of hope for the future. Soon after darkness fully came and the stars began to appear in the heavens; a line of three in the western sky caught my notice: each one progressively brighter towards the northern sky. Surely this was another omen, that of <i>Wodin's</i> mystical spear <i>Gungir</i> and the spearhead pointing my way home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">
Before I took my final leave of those lands and began the long journey here to Helm's Deep I met with the sole individual that I owe my very life to, as she perhaps above all deserved the explanation of my departure. With my account I also gave a gift to her and our master Relan; a set of rings each embedded with a stone the colour of bright honey; for the deep appreciation I feel for the kindness and aid the church of <i>Ithus</i> had given to this lost mariner during his time in this land.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
In return Sprig sung to me a song which moved me to tears. The words sung are as follows:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"May the road rise to meet you<br />
May the wind be always at your back<br />
May the sun shine warm upon your face<br />
And the rain fall soft upon your fields<br />
And until we meet again<br />
Until we meet again<br />
May you live well, in the heart of your home<br />
Until we meet again"</span></i></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
Upon reaching Helm's Deep I also received a poem written by her hand:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"To search out the home he knows no more<br />
To seek the far and shrouded shores<br />
Away for kind and friendly folk<br />
Will he return? I do not know<br />
As off to Sea, the Mariner goes"</span></i></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />I shall keep both close to my heart upon my journey.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I pray that my travels lead me to what I seek, but I perhaps hope even more to return someday to the lands of Arrakis and to the </span><strike style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">folk</strike><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> family here I care about so deeply.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Praise Be To The Æsir</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>-Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A song for those departed, both living and dead.</span></div>
Jerrethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920086551803475946noreply@blogger.com0