100plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigAppeared or occurred in:
: A Disappointing Conclusion (The game fell apart at this point, so this story line has come to an end. Read on for Ziedon's adventure!)
Teulen, Ker and Daluar spent the next couple hours scouting the halls for sh'kurdaru. What they found was promising in some ways, at least. Adult sh'kurdaru came through this area only rarely, perhaps once in half an hour at most. The downside was that they weren't part of a regular patrol, so their comings and goings would be unpredictable. If they moved quickly and quietly, they could get from the low baraderres' area to the shaft leading up to the high baraderres in about fifteen minutes. Doi…,101plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigReferenced in:
: A Mission from Rakbaven
This first part was originally posted as Turn 37z, on 8/31/98
Ziedon, days before, had made sure to memorize useful parts of Ardith's map. When he was sufficiently distant from his party, he placed his own two unremarkable maps on the ground, and placed an “
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Autott on direct link: Preceptor Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren
Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
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Autott on ns link: Zioth Campaignplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigZioth Campaign
* Introduction * The Story So Far * Rules and Player Options * Game World * People * Religions * Creatures * Joining the Game
Autolink+autott: Hello there Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren
Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …, said the <poem>House</poem> of Morenthplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth
Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics.
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* Autott on absolute link: Formatting Syntax * Autott on direct link: Preceptor Halaren * Autott on back-link: Welcome to Zioth Incorporated Limited Industries and Affiliates™ ® * Autott on ns link: Zioth Campaign * Autolink+autott: Hello there Halaren, said the House of Morenth. * Direct tt on link: * Direct tt with desc: Renamed Syntax Page
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Poem: Jarramplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe Cult of Jarram
This mercantile religion is centered in Duerstadt, capitol of Rang, but Jarramites can be found in many major cities, where they focus their efforts on money-lending and trade. This is not just where opportunity has landed them; Jarram is known as the Merchant God
This turn was rewritten as Chapter 1 and part of Chapter 2. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
Originally, there were three “introduction” type turns and turn 1. I've since merged them all together.
This turn was rewritten as part of Chapter 2. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
Brinn climbed out cursing. “Damn that roads! Som...” He stopped in mid-sentence surprised to see that they weren't alone. Brinn looked at the men surrounding the wagon and clutched his warhammer.
This turn was rewritten as part of Chapter 2 and Chapter 3. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
The battle over, Ardith and Ziedon hurried to the burgher to see what could be done. The man was in bad shape. His left leg was sprained, two of his fingers broken, and he had a large gash in his back.
This turn was rewritten as part of Chapter 3. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
“Perhaps,” said Sahlman, “the time is now to find out what it is that goes on in Grenzig, neh? This burgher, he is apparently opposed by the leaders of the town, if it is that these road bandits can become the guards.
Turn 5: A Lone Scoutplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 5: A Lone Scout
This turn was rewritten as part of Chapter 3 and Chapter 4. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
The night before, Ardith spoke to the party in the campsite. The camp had been chosen for its proximity to a large tree that grew up close to the town's unguarded wall, and had a few sturdy boughs that overhung it. She kept her friends awake with trivial talk, signing inconspicuously to the others to st…
This turn was rewritten as part of Chapter 4 and Chapter 5. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
Ardith listened intently to Brinn's report.
“I'm so sorry to hear about your misadventure with the thief, my friend. I'm glad you recovered your possessions.
This turn was rewritten as part of Chapter 4 and Chapter 5. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
Ziedon looked at the two guards and noted which of them seemed to have the higher rank. As he opened his mouth to speak, he began an effective, although falsified, coughing fit. While bent over coughing, he mumbled the complex language of a magic spell, attempting to charm the superior guard. Finishing …
Turn 8: Conquering a Townplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 8: Conquering a Town
This turn was rewritten as part of Chapter 4, Chapter 5 and Chapter 6. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
Ziedon calmly allowed himself to be taken into custody. While being marched to his place of incarceration,
This turn was rewritten as part of Chapter 6. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
After a joyous day, replete with good food, good company, and the opportunity to teach the folk of Grenzig a new dance or two,
Turn 10: A New Taskplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 10: A New Task
This turn was rewritten as part of Chapter 6. The rewrite includes a lot of liberties taken by the DM, so if you want to see original dialogue by the players, read this turn first.
After Balban and his cadre had left, Kay looked at Ardith with disgust. “Why didn't you ask him about those taxes? Why didn't you press him about the King? You are a Cleric of
: In the Forestplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: In the Forest
Feeling better than he had in some time, Sahlman el'Musafir gave his borrowed steed its head. These horses, he thought to himself, are faster and far more comfortable to ride than the camels of my homeland. Following that was another thought. He now felt more concern, more passion, for this place than he did for the place of his birth. That idea rolled back and forth for a bit inside of Sahl's head. In a moment or two, he decided that, while perhaps that fact should bother him, it did not. His h…
“Strange creature,” Kay whispered after the Brining scurried up the tree, “and an even stranger pet.”
Sahlman was amazed at the revelation of the Brinninig. In his desert home, one might find the occasional Dwarf, but the desert variety of Dwarf resembled nothing so much as a short, weather-beaten human. This Brinninig, though: why, there was no resemblance at all between it and a man. And the way it paid him not the slightest bit of attention, even though Sahl must have made enough racket to w…
: A Fight with Wolvesplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: A Fight with Wolves
Ardith came awake slowly, and smiled when she saw that it was Sahlman's hand on her arm. When he pointed out the wolf-pack, Ardith remembered her dream. She wondered whether she could hide the horses and the members of the party, but decided that it would probably frighten the horses too much.
This first part was originally posted as “turn 10 supplement” on 11/21/1996.
Ziedon made his way from Grenzig, following the details of the map closely. He walked for days, until he finally came to a small hill. 'How could this be Rakbaven?' Ziedon thought. He checked and rechecked the map. He had seen all the landmarks encapsulated within that sloppy double circle on the map, so this hill, barely thirty feet high, had to be Rakbaven.
Ziedon opened his eyes and tried to remember why they were shut. 'Everything is white - no, yellow. Now it's green. Yes, green, but blurry. It's becoming clearer. There; something moved. Something big. No, it's gone. It's hot; oh, so hot. Yes, I was just in a fire. But I couldn't feel anything.' He tried to move his arm. 'It hurts, but I can move it.' He felt around. 'Wet. Very wet. Is it raining? No, I'm not outside; I'm in a tunnel. Oh, my head hurts!' He felt his leg: bare skin. Part of his c…
Ziedon continued quickly through the tunnel. None of the other creatures followed him; they kept running about doing whatever they were doing before.
It was only a few minutes before he came to a fork in the tunnel. The left fork went down, and the right headed up. The two were identical in all other respects.
The man tossed the stone into the air a few times, and then spoke in a deep voice. “I am the master to whom my two servants guided you. I have been searching the world for those worthy of my guidance, and you alone have passed my tests. You are foolishly brave at times, but you know how to recognize and solve a puzzle you are given. I commend you.
Ziedon left through the door of the tower, and watched, without much surprise, as the tower collapsed into itself until it was once again a small hill. He made sure the orb his master gave him was secure in its well-padded belt pouch, and began to follow the map.
The tale of Ziedon's adventures held Sahlman's full attention. The desert dweller listened in awe to the recounting, his craggy face fully expressing his astonishment at many of the story's details. His mind fairly boggled at the idea of spending so much time under the ground, closed in, surrounded and trapped. 'Agh, this
Ziedon looked at the group and their sad state of appearance and made a suggestion. “Perhaps we should find lodgings and cleanse ourselves. Ulan can wait until we are presentable.” Leaning heavily on his staff, he looked around for someone he could ask a question of. The appearance of the group prevented most people from coming near them, but eventually,
Before going to sleep, Ardith invited Kay to join her in prayer to Andritha. The two women prayed together in their room for a few minutes, and then made up their cots with blankets and went to sleep.
In the morning, they came down to the common room and had some bread, cheese, and a hot, sweet drink the bartender offered them that smelled faintly of alcohol.Jackol Worsen
: The Minstrel's Songplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Minstrel's Song
Kay listened, enraptured, to the man's singing and playing. It reminded her of the songs of her homeland. She found the man attractive, and wished she could get his attention. Kay's heart went to her throat as the minstrel sat next to her. His presence, even his clean, male odor went to her head.
: The Lost Scrollplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Lost Scroll
Sahlman was furious to the point of distraction over losing the fight, over his soiled garments, and over allowing his weapons to be lost, even temporarily. If that had happened in the desert, he would have been dead. He could not quite comprehend why he was still alive, nor why his plans failed so dreadfully. He was unable to sit and listen to
: Ziedon, the Necromancerplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Ziedon, the Necromancer
Sahlman was bone weary, winded, beaten and filthy. His attitude was eroded to a dangerous level by the events of the evening. When the strange, shadowy man with his feathers and beads materialized to bring down the fleeing thief, the traveller was nearly unable to remain standing. He wished for nothing so much as to be able to fall to the cobblestones and lie there forever. By main force of will, the desert man did not do so. As he would have done while defending his oasis against marauding raid…
: Kreemon the Rangerplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Kreemon the Ranger
Ardith smiled and turned to the newcomer. “Hail and well met, stranger. I am Ardith, Priestess of Andritha. Thank you for your assistance. How may we thank you?”
The man nodded his head at Ardith, and pulled at his goatee distractedly. “Good morrow to you, priestess. I go by Kreemon Fangly. As for thanks, I would much appreciate word of where I might find employment.
: Korisca the Thiefplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Korisca the Thief
Sahlman slept the sleep of the dead, and awoke in midst of some vague nightmare hours before dawn. Unable to return to his slumber, he forced himself out of bed, and headed for the bath houses. A good scrubbing of himself and his clothing was just what the he needed. Some time later, a clean
Korisca stood up and looked at Kreemon. “I suppose I should go take this ... bath, and get new clothes, but I don't know where such places are.”
“Well, I know where the bath house is and can escort you there if you wish. As for clothes ... the market place probably would the best bet. You might even find someone with a cart of second hand clothing you could sort through to see if anything would fit you. I've found a few good bargains doing that. You do have to be careful though. They, the cloth…
: The Messageplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Message
Kreemon left Korisca at the bathhouse and took a short walk back to the marketplace. The market was not crowded, but it was not empty either. There were many people about, entering and leaving shops, examining the few booths that lined the main road, or just standing and talking to friends. A group of children was playing a game Kreemon did not recognize. Every time a horseman, those few that there were, came by, the children grabbed a few dozen trinkets from the road and ran to the side.
Sahlman stood staring at the townhouse. His mind raced from one to another of the topics currently facing himself and the other members of the small band. Balban's trustworthiness, or lack thereof, was one concern. The day to day matters of survival were another.
Ziedon spoke up again, eagerly changing the conversation. “We need to leave immediately.”
“I agree, Sir Mage,” Ardith said. “I do not like the feel of this town, nor of the townsman we have met. Let us provision ourselves from the innkeeper, and be on our way.
Ziedon was woken by Sahlman a few hours before dawn. As Sahl arranged himself comfortably on his blanket to sleep through the last watch, Ziedon quietly claimed a corner of the room and sat down.
Ziedon watched over everyone in silence, his eyes frequently returning to the still form of the thief. 'How easy it would be,' he thought, but each time he lowered his hands to boost himself off the floor, he shook his head. 'No, it is too soon.'
: Another Approachplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Another Approach
'Not good. No, not good at all,' thought Sahlman as he scrambled for readiness. For a split second, visions flashed before Sahl's eyes: cloaked raiders materializing out of the frigid darkness to tear through a peaceful bedouin camp, black blood bubbling pink and frothy in the wake of his scimitar, screams and wails of despair from the friends and relatives, from the wives and children, of those not strong enough to hold on to that most precious of treasures
: The Townsman's Dilemmaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Townsman's Dilemma
The only emotion Sahlman could solidly identify at that moment was confusion. Perhaps if he had been paying more attention to Ulan, instead of checking all around for Forgolon Deepthroat, he might have been able to better assay what was going on. As it was, nothing was as it seemed, or nothing seemed as it was, one of the two. Either way, Sahl was left shaking his head. He had to look around at the groveling Ulan, just to make doubly certain that it was he, indeed, who was doing the begging. It …
: A Partial Resolutionplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: A Partial Resolution
'Good,' Ardith thought as Ulan signalled his men. She had no desire for an armed conflict, or any other type for that matter.
Ardith's plan was to use Ulan's plight to gain information -- information she desperately wished to have -- about Balban and his motives, how Ulan became Balban's agent in
: New Arrivalsplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: New Arrivals
Thrilled as he was by the feel of the magnificent mount beneath him, Sahl's lingering apprehension was instantly reborn as full-blown paranoia. Five more soldiers, plus one on either flank. The warrior transferred the reins to his left hand, then backed his mount a couple of shuffling steps. His eyes kept constant track of the seven men around him. The horse must have sensed his tension, because it was fidgeting and trembling just a bit.
: Ziedon's Dayplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Ziedon's Day
Listening to the rest of the conversation, Kay giggled at the talkative soldier, then stepped forward as though to speak.
Ardith touched her arm and whispered, “Let's stay out of this for the moment. Ziedon is doing quite well without help. He's getting more information than we have gotten for days. And remember, men in these parts find it strange enough for women to be armed, never mind that they take part in _their_ conversation.
turning his attention to Waylad he says, “However, you should still take the precautions I mentioned. Find other soldiers who you know are loyal to Maelbourg and explain the situation to them; get their support before you confront
Korisca appeared from behind a large tree, but remained as unnoticeable as possible. She had trouble comprehending the recent events. A few days before, she was an unrecognized lowlife in Maelbourg, and this day she had dealt with a townsman. Then, her primary enemy, who could deal out the ancient powers like a deck full of aces, left with little explanation. She had no idea what was going on, but with
“Tolls for bridges, tolls to enter the town, what'll be next, a toll to use the facilities?” Kreemon muttered.
“Animals are permitted on the main roads only. We try to keep the town clean,” the guard said as they passed the gateway.
Each lantern in the town shone as a streaked globe through the fog, barely providing enough light to walk by. The first hazy building they saw gave itself away as an inn by its height and shape, and the amount of light emanating from a particular room.
: An Eventful Departureplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: An Eventful Departure
Unusual for her, as Ardith was one of those who woke up ready for anything, she sleepily went through her morning ablutions, woke up Kay, said her morning prayers, then, checking to see if Kay was actually up, thought about their mission and getting on with it. They'd been in this town long enough, she thought.
: Korisca's Storyplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Korisca's Story
Ardith was overcome with dismay that the events in the guardhouse had led to bloodshed, but they had happened so fast that there had been nothing she could do. Not that she was unaccustomed to or abhorrent of bloodshed, but that it had seemed so unnecessary. She also wondered why both
Johannes woke early on the chilly morning of the eleventh of Farinon. He hugged his arms to his breast, trying to rid himself of a lingering chill. Something didn't feel right, so he lifted his hands and looked them over. They were dirty and scarred, but narrow and light. They were a woman's hands. He took those strange hands and felt up and down his body, but somehow was not shocked at what he found. He was
: Osander River Villageplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Osander River Village
Johannes shook his head slightly, trying to calm his mind, struggling to sort out that which he heard from the strange vision he had seen. “So this former companion of yours was performing odd experiments on sheep... the fact that he caused the bones of that sheep to bend
: The Journey to Huertenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Journey to Huerten
As soon as their escort turned back to Osander River Village, the party mounted their horses and rode on toward Huerten. The sky was clear and bright, what was visible through the trees, and well before noon, the snow melted. The air was still cold though, and smelled of a winter that was more than a month off.
Kreemon headed for the Baron's keep, making a few subtle inquiries along the way about the patrols outside the city. He asked several people, but soon realized that neither the patrols nor the group they sought were common knowledge. That pursuit at an end, he began to formulate a plan for how he would deal with the message.
The first three paragraphs were originally posted as “Turn 37 Supplement,” on 8/31/98.
“HA!” Sahlman let out with a loud cry to his restless steed, leading the other three men back toward Maelbourg. At the next possible chance, Sahl would cut back on a different road toward Grenzig. He didn't know what
In moments, Sahl's darting glance had traversed the three hundred sixty degrees of terrain that surrounded him, hoping against hope that he would catch a glimpse of the second soldier, hoping that he would not discover the man just preparing to slide a blade through the weathered brown skin of his torso. As he performed this automatic function of viewing his environment, Sahl spoke,
Half a mile from the perimeter of Maelbourg, Sahlman turned to Forgolon. “This is dangerous work. We must talk now. I tell you, what I want is for my friends to be free and not work for bad men. This is all I want. You tell me now. Who is lord of Maelbourg now? Who put my friends in jail? Why they in jail? What you want from me?
Before dawn, the pair packed up, ate a brief breakfast and were on their way. The sky was clear and the weather was warming up, and a pleasant breeze blew between the trees. Shortly after noon, Sahlman spotted the Black Lake in the distance. Hebabelt explained that its name came from its dark sands and thick under-water growth, and that it was known to catch foreigners and even the occasional local by surprise in the night. More than one person had fallen into the water before noticing it was th…
The knights didn't give Sahlman much time to sleep. They woke him well before dawn with, “there's no time to waste!” and pushed their horses hard through the morning. In the following hours, they passed three more patrols, and only a few other travelers, who avoided the knights. It seemed that every town Sahl visited lately had undergone some recent change that made it act differently towards visitors. Dmerzig and Grenzig had been conquered,
: Kreemon and Sahlmanplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Kreemon and Sahlman
Sahl reacted urgently to Kreemon's voice. Rolling to his feet, he called out, “Please let him in Brunner! I need to talk to this man.” He hastily walked to the door. “Hello Kreemon, I have been hearing bad things about you.” Kreemon had changed his appearance much as Sahl had changed his, though Kreemon no doubt had done it for more desperate reasons. His goatee was gone, and his hair now hung loose. His clothes were changed, and he wore a long hooded cloak. Without the facial hair, the prominen…
On the twenty-seventh, Sahl went out alone to train Zephyr. Mindolpha had been more trouble than usual during the night, and Johannes was sleeping late. As usual, Redbelve stopped by to give him a few pointers. In the afternoon, Sahl took a stroll around the city, working through his plans for preparing for the Zioth. Late in the afternoon, he found himself near a small cemetery which looked like it had been filled up a long time ago. There weren't a lot of people around
Sahlman, Kay and Johannes had all grown up in large cities, but the Huerten Winter Fair and Festival was no less impressive for it. The castle was the gloriously decorated centerpiece, with banners, flags, and trumpeters playing fanfare on the hour for no reason other than to impress. Knights, dressed in their clumsy formal armor, engaged in mock jousts before cheering crowds. Normally, the castle was surrounded by large open areas. These areas now served as the core of the Fair, and were anythi…
“Salangin -- is that how you pronounce it?” Jereld, captain of the Baron's Guard, stopped Daluar just as he was leaving through the path of rubble that had once been the courtyard gate. His pronunciation was wrong, but he didn't give Daluar a chance to correct him.
Teulen, Ker and Daluar spent the next couple hours scouting the halls for sh'kurdaru. What they found was promising in some ways, at least. Adult sh'kurdaru came through this area only rarely, perhaps once in half an hour at most. The downside was that they weren't part of a regular patrol, so their comings and goings would be unpredictable. If they moved quickly and quietly, they could get from the low baraderres' area to the shaft leading up to the high baraderres in about fifteen minutes. Doi…
Ziedon and Sahlman wake up separately in Dmerzig. Brinn rides in on a wagon. Kay arrives, escorting Ardith. The characters meet and introduce themselves. Ziedon suggests they all look for something to do together, because he wishes to
The burgher tells the group that his next target is Maelbourg and the smaller towns that line the roads all the way to the Louthrob swamplands. Ardith recognizes the name. From turn 9:
Location: Maelbourg, path between Maelbourg and Dunweig
An hour before dawn, Sahlman wakes Ziedon for the last watch. Ziedon thinks about killing the thief, but decides not to. He notices that his spell book is falling apart, and won't last more than a year.The Healer
: A Mission from Rakbavenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: A Mission from Rakbaven
This first part was originally posted as Turn 37z, on 8/31/98
Ziedon, days before, had made sure to memorize useful parts of Ardith's map. When he was sufficiently distant from his party, he placed his own two unremarkable maps on the ground, and placed an “
: Settling in Dunweigplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Settling in Dunweig
Gathering himself, Ziedon headed south, glad to be out of the tower and away from his impossible Master. He thought of the creatures he had met the last time he left the tower, and kept his eyes wary of them, but throughout the journey, they did not appear.
...
: The Butcher Morenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Butcher Moren
The butcher opened his eyes wide, as if realizing his own mortality for the first time, and then looked down at the ground, accepting it. “Yes, I am Moren.”
Ziedon clapped his hands in glee. “Wonderful. I bring a message for you.” He spent a long minute reciting the magical words written as with chalk in his mind. Once
“So, how'd it go with the apothecary?” Dalast put his food on Ziedon's table, and pulled up a chair. Ziedon frowned. “I never made it there. I realized that I must have looked a fright with my unkept beard and hair so I sought the services of a barber. Afterwards, I was still tired from my journey, so I returned for some lunch and a nap. I do feel quite refreshed. Mayhaps I will make it there on the morrow. I intend to enjoy myself this eve, seeing what this fine town has to offer me.
: Moren's Bookplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Moren's Book
Ziedon left the sheep behind him to persue the intruder. He chanted the spell again as he ran, targeting the interloper's heart, but by the time he finished his incantation, the person was too far for it to take its proper effect. She did feel something, because
The bathouses were not on the main crossroads of the town, but they were still easy to find. They were as close to the lake as they could be without too much threat from storm, and a portion of the town's wall rose up around that part of the lake to deter flood waters. The bathhouses were no more than half a mile's distance from the butcher, and an eighth from the inn
Due to her scream, Ziedon works fast, first his wound and then using his old cut robe, he cleans his boot and the evidence of his bloody footprints up. Looking at the window, Ziedon thanks the gods that it is still too early in the day for the fisherman to be coming back to shore and the relative seclusion of the house and baths. <
Ziedon moved behind the bathhouse and then, taking extreme care not to be seen, continued to the next building. Pausing there, Ziedon cut the hem of his robe and bandaged his wound. He cut more slices of cloth from the robe, soaked them in water from his waterskin, and used them to clean himself up.
Ziedon woke to sunlight on his face. He had slept a long time. Stretching and blinking his eyes, Ziedon thought, “That is what I needed. Ah..” As he swung his feet onto the floor, a sharp, reverberating pain reminded him that his wound would be a long time healing. Fortunately, it was not infected yet, and the edges were beginning to crust over, but the bandage was still damp with blood.
: The Other Galpenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Other Galpen
In the morning, Ziedon prepared his spells, then took out Moren's book, and looked at it reflectively as he thought about his dream. Ziedon was not normally one to remember his dreams, and now he'd had one two nights in a row. The previous night, someone had been questioning him. Obviously there was something deeper going on underneath the currents than was immediately visible.
Ziedon pledged the next couple of days to prepare for his assassination of Bure. He immediately took Galpen up on his offer, and followed him to the house and shop of an upper-class tailor. With Galpen by his side, Ziedon was able to acquire a suit of clothing that would make some of the lesser townsmen jealous, for under half its value. It still cost him fifteen gold attles, which ate a good bit into the money that Galpen had offered.
The next morning, Ziedon realized things would not be as easy as he'd thought. As well as any satirist could have predicted, the town guard patrolled the streets in force, now that a wealthy merchant had been murdered in his own shop. News of Weg's messenger paled in comparison, to the point where
After consulting with Galpen, Ziedon entered a jeweler's shop, where he hoped to find a ruby ring, an emerald necklace and a special gold- headed sword-cane he would have to commission. The shop itself did not contain much jewelry in clear sight. There were a great many silver and gold chains hanging on the walls, a few silver rings on hooks, some of which were set with inexpensive stones, and an open wooden box containing flawed gems. The rest, acc…
His horse was untouched and had been treated well, and the new saddle was still leaning against the wall. Ziedon mounted, and rode until he just out of sight of the west gate, then dismounted. Wearing his old robes and equipped with his staff, Ziedon led his horse towards the gate.
: Dragged into Maelbourgplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Dragged into Maelbourg
Ziedon made his journey a casual one. He did not want to arrive in Maelbourg saddle sore, tired and dirty, or with a crippled horse. Soon after setting out, he found a moving stream and unloaded his bloody clothing. There was no need to risk being caught with that.
“So Ziedon, I see you caused Townsman Ulfendol quite a bit of trouble.” When Ziedon opened his eyes, he saw Galgewe, standing tall, hands clasped behind his back. It was a bit hard to make out his features. When Ziedon opened his eyes wider and shook out the blur of sleep, he saw the reason. He was in a jail cell, securely locked, with metal bars reaching to the ceiling, and attached at their base to a half-wall of stone.
: Working for a Townsmanplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Working for a Townsman
Ziedon was escorted out of the jail, to be taken to the nearby Purple Raven. His damaged clothes were brought elsewhere to be mended. Two of the three men who walked with Ziedon were common thugs, hired for strength rather than agility. They wore standard uniforms, consisting of leather armor, longsword, light crossbow and dagger, along with narrow-rimmed hats and a short black ribbon. The third man, doubtless the leader, was lighter than the others, but certainly looked like he could hold his o…
: The State of Maelbourgplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The State of Maelbourg
An hour or so after the tailor left, a messenger arrived with an unsigned letter from Galgewe: I will not be able to visit you myself tonight due to prior engagements, so I will answer some of your questions here. Please destroy this message when you have comitted it to memory. If you forget, its ink is designed to fade within a day or two.
You asked for descriptions of the major players in town, so here they are. The number following each name is an indication of power and influence. There a…
Ziedon slept deeply, and did not wake until fairly late in the morning. The rest of the materials for the summoning spell and the priming of the paper were on the desk, though some of the summoning materials were not _quite_ right. The spell would probably work anyway.
Ferenz's tavern had nothing like the lush accomodations of the Purple Raven. Leaving his escort outside, Ziedon entered a dusty, low- ceilinged room much wider than it was deep. While the poorest laborers of Maelbourg couldn't afford tavern food, the men assembled for lunch today were not much better off.
Tilluri and Gelefer brought Ziedon across town to a far wealthier neighborhood. They arrived in front of a small building that Ziedon's map described as the Guild Tradehouse. Guilds used the building to arrange major trade agreements with each other and with neighboring towns, and some of the more important guild masters had private offices inside. The place was built like a fortress, with thick stone walls, heavy iron-bound doors and windows built small enough and high enough that even a practi…
As they walked to the tavern, Ziedon felt an inexplicable tinge of nervousness, as if he was being followed. He looked back frequently, but could see nothing out of the ordinary. Then, just outside the tavern, a wave of fear washed over him. He stopped, unsure whether to hide or run, and then it passed.
: A Rap on the Shuttersplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: A Rap on the Shutters
Late in the night, Ziedon was woken by a rap on his shutters. Thinking it was the wind, he dozed off, but the fourth time it happened, he got up and separated them. The bird stumbled a bit and landed on the outside window sill, peering in. A moment later, there was a knock on his door.
: Hewlard and Duddanplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Hewlard and Duddan
“You called me.”
Ziedon rolled over in his bed, ignoring the dream.
“You called me. Why?”
He was tired. How much sleep could he have gotten? Three hours? Four?
“You called me. Why?”
Ziedon opened his eyes a crack. The sun had risen only recently, and it was cold. The bird was perched on the highest shelf above the desk, staring at him with interest. It was also squawking annoyingly.
: G is Catching Onplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: G is Catching On
Once the guards left his room, Ziedon bolted the door and sat in thought. Making a decision, he sent out a summons to his familiar, calling it back to him with all haste. While he waited, he took one of his pouches and padded the inside with extra cloth. He then removed the skulls from the two mouse skeletons and put them in the pouch, with more cloth between them. He hefted the pouch in its hand, tied it to his belt and walked around normally for a bit to make sure that the padding was sufficie…
: The Public Guildhouseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Public Guildhouse
He'd planned to capture Galgewe, tie him up, take that pesky amulet away and enchant him so many times he'd forget his own name if Ziedon had asked him to. It would have been nothing to take Galgewe's power from him and send him away. He might have even had a little “
: Commanding the Guardsplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Commanding the Guards
Townsman Silnquost didn't show up the next day, and the only news Ziedon got of the outside world was from a conversation he overheard when his guard was changed.
“So what's going on outside?”
“It's nuts out there. The priests are out.”
“What?”
“
: A Demostration of Powerplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: A Demostration of Power
It was two hours before Townsman Silnquost arrived. Three guards entered with him and positioned themselves around Ziedon. These were not the same three who had pinned Ziedon before; they looked stronger, better trained, wore different uniforms and bore higher-quality arms, the type one would expect to be with a man of
Townsman Silnquost had promised information; Ziedon was hardly surprised when it didn't come. He was a prisoner here, however the townsman had sugar-coated it. But then again, waiting around for a few days couldn't hurt, especially if he really was a hunted man outside this building. He could escape when he needed to.
: Korisca's Helpplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Korisca's Help
Kreemon spent the next few days caring for his wounds and Bork's, exercising as best he could in the cramped quarters, and spending a lot of time in meditation with Bork and in prayer. He asked Rheideielle to purchase him some new clothing so he could change his appearance, as well as some rations and equipment for when he left town. He supplied the funds.
: The Shortest Pathplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Shortest Path
It was the second night since they'd left the city. Fallen trees and broken segments of road had become common sights during the past days, showing that whatever had happened was more widespread than it had seemed initially. There were even a few cracks in the ground, though nothing nearly so vast as the great rift outside of Huerten. Just half a dozen feet or so deep, most of them.
Maelbourg was well known for being a musical town, but Forgolon was a level above the rest. His mandolin never played a sour note. His fingers never missed a beat. And his voice was so flawlessly controlled, filling the crowded room so expertly, that even tonedeaf
...
: The Disappearing Trickplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Disappearing Trick
“Ziedon,” Kreemon said, “It is us. Korisca and Kreemon.” He chuckled. “We have come to rescue you.”
“Hi, Ziedon,” Korisca said. Strangely enough, she seemed perfectly calm in the presence of the man she'd feared for weeks.
Kreemon glanced at the desk before refocusing his attention on the door.
In the morning, Ziedon gave Korisca some money. “I am famished,” he said. “Would you please be a dear and go get us something warm and filling to eat? You could also see if there are any rumors about last night, or any news. In the meantime, I need to review some of my notes. Please do not disturb me.
: The Northern Gateplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Northern Gate
After Forgolon left, Ziedon called Tah'iera to him. Within moments, the strange bird landed on the window sill. “Please follow the man who just left,” Ziedon said. “Let me know where he goes.”
After Tah'iera flew off, Ziedon said, “Korisca, Kreemon. I don't know how long this transition period is going to take. I would very much like to get my necklace back from
: Desecrating the Houseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Desecrating the House
In the morning, Ziedon woke up to an icy breeze -- again -- and lashed out. “Who keeps opening that damned window? I was freezing all night long.”
Kreemon stood up and stretched. “Sorry. I like the fresh air.”
“Well bloody hell. I am not going to be much use to anyone if I catch a cold, now am I? And what about
: Digging up Galgeweplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Digging up Galgewe
Kreemon and Korisca left a quarter of an hour after Ziedon, shovels strapped to their backs. Korisca led Kreemon through back streets, taking a different route than they had the day before, to get to the old North Gate.
Four priests were standing in clear view around the Temple of
: The Hidden Armyplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Hidden Army
The invisible mist wafted through the corridors, passing priests and parishioners without their knowledge, but it moved slowly, like a light breeze with direction and purpose.
The mist passed through corridor after corridor, then through the reading rooms, and into the great entrance hall of
: The Transformationplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Transformation
Ziedon woke once again to a stiff breeze. He had fallen asleep sitting up, but now he was lying on the hard floor, his cloak wrapped tightly around him. He glared at the open window, working life back into his fingers. The sooner they could get to that boarding house, the better. Kreemon could have the room without the fireplace. Let him freeze as much as he wanted.
At first, I didn't tell Kreemon he was a dog, and I didn't tell Ziedon that Bork was Kreemon. Instead, I sat in the middle and editted emails for a while to give each player the proper perspective. The turn is from Ziedon's perspective. Here's Kreemon's side. See
: Interrogating a Spyplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Interrogating a Spy
When the man faded back into visibility next to him, Ziedon took his belt pouch and looked inside. There were only a few coins, which made sense given the man's common appearance. There was nothing to indicate who he was or where he was from.
Ziedon tied the man's hands behind his back, tied his feet together, and gagged him with a strip of cloth from his shirt. Then he searched his body thoroughly, even to the point of looking in his shoes and under his shirt. Other than a dagger that looked …
Ziedon made it to the Silver Sign unmolested. He received a few funny looks from passers-by, and a member of the town guard followed him for a short time, but he was otherwise left alone. The tavern and boarding house was easy to find. The rusty iron Sign of
Ziedon sucked in a deep breath of air. His fingers moved nimbly in the motions of a spell as he replied in a cold tone, “For your transgressions, my wrath with shake the earth and blot out the sky! My friends will defend me against your evil!”
“Your devious tongue will only enhance your suffering,
: The Song of Destructionplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Song of Destruction
Kreemon woke up hurting all over. He lifted himself slowly, only realizing he was lying on a table top when his motion unbalanced the makeshift stretcher, twisting it out of Ziedon's sore and tired hands, and sending it crashing to the ground. Kreemon rolled a couple times on the ground before colliding with the filthy wall of the alley. Weak from his many wounds, he lifted himself carefully on the palms of his hands, and saw
: Gathering Supportplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Gathering Support
The day got worse and worse for Ziedon. The volume of the chant became louder, until at times it was almost impossible to concentrate. It would then soften, but never as much as the last time. Ziedon felt he was running out of time to deal with this problem, and given how the last fight with the priests went, he would probably need help, and a good plan. He had just decided that, when the chanting reached a crescendo more powerful than any before it.
“We'll drop you off at the boarding house and then go to Silnquost's guild house.” Kreemon chuckled, remembering how he started his current trip to Maelbourg. “I think we know how to get there.”
Kreemon and Korisca escorted Ziedon back to the boarding house, and then headed to the public guild house where
: Confronting the Signplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Confronting the Sign
While Kreemon stirred up the crowds of Maelbourg, Ziedon lay in bed, tied down, repeating over and over to himself that it was all a bluff. The music in his head, the rapid slipping away of his magical knowledge, it was just a trick. The mages from Forgolon's song were driven mad by the song and its effects, and either committed suicide or attacked the priests, which was just another form of suicide.
: The Golden Priestplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Golden Priest
Ziedon looked down at his bound body and then up at the others. “I just had a very unique dream; I am not sure if I made things better or worse. Could you please let me up?”
While Korisca untied him, Ziedon said, “Tah'iera, I need some additional mice, or other small creatures, to replenish my supply of skulls. Could you please go find me some? If you could also please do a quick turn over the woods outside of the town walls, I'd like to get an idea of what is going on with the army that is out…
: The Dream Worldplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Dream World
At the safe house, Ziedon unloaded his gear and then went through some stretching exercises to relieve his sore muscles. “Where is Kreemon?” he asked Korisca.
“He's out finding a place on the other side of town, in case we have to split. Ziedon, what was all that out there? I've never seen anything like it. That priest
It was late morning when Ziedon came out of the dream. The sun was showing through the clouds, and the muddy streets were slowly becoming navigable again, despite the occasional drizzle. Kreemon and Korisca knew that the next day at midnight, the earth would open up outside of Huerten
: Ziedon's Planplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Ziedon's Plan
It was finally the day of the earthquake. Kreemon, Korisca and Ziedon woke to a chill draft and flurries of snow outside, but they knew it would get hot later in the day. Their new boarding house wasn't nearly so well situated as the last one, being far from the walls and
: The Earthquake, Againplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Earthquake, Again
“Ziedon's been gone a long time,” Korisca said, looking out the window into the ever-thickening fog. The earthquake was less than an hour away. At that moment, Tah'iera, Ziedon's demonic-looking bird, landed on the window sill. The bird looked into Korisca's eyes, then flew the couple feet and tugged on her shirt sleeve.
: Another Use for Galgeweplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Another Use for Galgewe
The next day dawned to clear skies and a Maelbourg only slightly worse for wear. There were a few minor injuries, and one person had gotten lost in the fog and fallen into the river and drowned, but buildings, for the most part, still stood upright. The streets were a mess, but by early afternoon, most of the fallen lamp posts, broken carts and winter boarding had been picked up.
Kreemon kept his cloak wrapped around him and quickly made his way back to his room, frequently making sure he wasn't followed. He checked in with Korisca to get news of the town. Not much had happened while Kreemon was gone. People were still camped outside
: The Preceptor's Dayplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Preceptor's Day
Preceptor Halaren arrived in Maelbourg on the first day of the one thousand first year of the Zioth. The previous priest, a timid man in his thirties whose gray hair and tired look made him seem fifty or more, spent only two days training Halaren before he left town. Now that whichever higher-up he'd offended had forgiven him, he wanted to leave as quickly as possible. This left
: How to get awayplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: How to get away
Kreemon wandered around for the rest of the day, sometimes as a wolfhound, other times as a man. The tension in Maelbourg had been rising for weeks, and it was finally breaking. Some people were bleary-eyed like they hadn't slept in weeks, and others were overly energetic, but almost everyone was happy. The music that was a constant background in
Clouds moved rapidly overhead. After some time, Cundee, pacing up and down the length of the raft, trying to keep spirits up, saw a man approaching, in a simple tunic, muffler and cowl. The man looked to be in his late twenties, and stood wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. Had he not been covered with muffler and cowl, his skin would have appeared pale and a little blubbery, tugging his facial features downward to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appea…
: The Barrierplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Barrier
Halaren lay down in bed, but couldn't sleep. He wasn't the only one; more than one resident of the temple paced back and forth through much of the night. At least the time passed quickly. It seemed like only a few hours before dawn arrived, and Halaren had to get out of bed again. He hurried through his usual morning appearances, then excused himself to sneak out of town again. He did not arrive at
Tah'iera returned to Ziedon to report where the journeyman had gone, and some of the conversation with the Messenger. Tah'iera also mentioned that there weren't many other birds about, and that those that remained were very confused about the barrier dome. It went all around the city, for about a mile in every direction.
“Journeyman Lelen,” Ziedon said. “How nice to see you again in such different garb.” Kreemon stepped around and to the side, taking up a flanking position.
The Andrithan priest shifted his weight and adjusted his clothing, an uncomfortable grin on his face, but no sign of surprise or alarm.
: A New Friendplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: A New Friend
Kreemon wasn't too gentle as he ripped out the crossbow bolts and searched the priest and the thatched pack he'd dropped at the beginning of the fight. There was a lot of worthless junk - an old bedroll, a winter blanket, a bucket with a strange symbol carved in the bottom, some candles, a fishing net and a piece of reflective metal possibly used for shaving. There were packages of herbs that
: Rousing the Deadplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Rousing the Dead
After a bit more discussion with the Preceptor, and watching him carefully apply mud from his jars to his own wounds, Ziedon heard a rhythmic tapping at the door and knew that Tah'iera was back. In a squawking language that Ziedon seemed to understand, the bird told him that there was one fresh grave in the
...
: Just a Lot of Booksplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Just a Lot of Books
Sometime later, Ziedon opened his eyes to the dark interior of the Temple of Andritha. He felt well-rested, if a little stiff and disoriented. Was it morning? There was no way to tell. He picked up his spell book and turned the stiff pages one by one, looking for spells that would be useful that day. An hour or so later, he stepped out of the study, leaving the skeletons behind, and gathered everyone to the south side of the temple.
“Excellent,” Ziedon said, looking down into the dark hole between the bookshelves. “Would one of you see where the stairs leads while the other keeps watch on the door? I will have a quick chat with those captive priests and then we will continue onward through this secret passage.
: The Old Libraryplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Old Library
Kreemon walked around the edge of the disgusting pond, looking for any signs that the priest entered it. There were none. Unless Halaren was an excellent leaper, he wouldn't have been able to avoid leaving footprints in the muck. Just to be sure, Kreemon stood still for a while, watching for any ripples in the water that would suggest something larger than a frog or snake hiding in there. Again, nothing. There were a few shallow caves and quickly tapering tunnels in the chamber, but nothing larg…
: Meeting the Preceptorplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Meeting the Preceptor
Corbyn and Ramzi arrived at the temple to find that someone had done their job for them. Broken boards swung from the sides of the door, and from the looks of it, the door had been forced open from the inside. The sound of a shovel digging through hard ground came from the garden outside the temple.
: The Rotted Oakplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Rotted Oak
It looked like a fire had torn through the forest, yet the ground was covered in jagged chunks of ice. Halaren rested against the trunk of an oak tree whose branches, stripped off by some unknown force, were scattered on the ground around him. Many of them leaned against other similar trees, making the forest floor difficult to navigate.
: A Dark Passageplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: A Dark Passage
Gil watched first in confusion, then in horror, as Voss was drawn into the tree. Finally, cursing himself for being so slow, he leaped forward, dropping his sword and grabbing the barbarian's right elbow which protruded from the wood. Bracing his feet against the outer portion of the tree, he did his best to pull the huge man free.
: The Glass Roomplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Glass Room
“'Tis a glass goat!” the priest observed as he rounded the corner. He stopped next to Gil. “Your sigil. Your former sigil. Can you open it, sir?” Without enlightenment from Gil, Halaren looked around. The mechanism was quite beyond him, but chains were simple. They were like strong rope.
: Averting the Signsplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Averting the Signs
From the looks of it, something had long since grown and died in that room. Crumbled branches lay strewn about, and powdery dust that may once have been leaves or moss coated every surface. In the middle of the room was a solid stone desk whose edge was carved in the likeness of a snake, and beyond was an empty bookshelf.
“My word!” The Preceptor cried at the sound of the glass door grinding to a halt, and grabbed his chest. He took a few breaths and looked back up, dismayed. “And I suppose we won't be able to close this door again, either. We are drawing Thand a map right to us.
: A Changed Maelbourgplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: A Changed Maelbourg
Ziedon awoke from a dreamless sleep to a painful pecking on his chest. He opened his eyes and shut them again. His head was pounding, and his eyes felt like they were glued together. The next time he opened his eyes, he saw a blur that had to be Tah'iera. Next to him, Kreemon was sitting up with his head between his knees, trying not to vomit.
: Finding Old Friendsplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Finding Old Friends
Ziedon set the six items from under the House in a circle. He crushed a pearl over each one, and meditated, allowing the dust to sink in and reveal the power of the items. To Kreemon and the rest of Maelbourg, a full, exhausting day passed, but Ziedon's spell measured time perfectly. Exactly six true hours passed. By the time Kreemon cleaned and hid the bodies, found that no jeweler would open his doors, and returned, the ritual was complete. Both men were tired, but
: Following the Pathsplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Following the Paths
At any other time, Kreemon would have had an extremely difficult time disguising his activities. The wheelbarrows, the one active laundry in town not accepting customers, and above all the stench, would have been too conspicuous to ignore. As it was, though, no one wanted to investigate. There were too many more important things going on. After he'd cleaned enough bodies and wheeled their bones to his hiding place near the boarding house, Kreemon returned home. He wasn't surprised that
: Disguised as Priestplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Disguised as Priest
Hours, or more likely with the altered passage of time, days later, Ziedon found Kreemon asleep in his clothes, with the open shutters letting in the chilly air. It was dark outside, some time past the middle of the night. Ziedon studied his spells by candlelight, then waited for Kreemon to wake. The moons moved across the sky. Shadows formed and slid across the floor. No more than two hours could have passed, but it was noon. It was incredibly disorienting to have the sky completely ignore
Kreemon opened the window and sat down in front of it. He could see the Paths, whether he wanted to or not. Where and when did they go? The paths were narrow, winding and endlessly intertwined. The hardest to follow led through time, but how far, and in what direction? At this point, all he could do was guess.
Corbyn leaned back down the ladder and held his finger to his lips, gesturing at the others. Once he had gotten their attention, he used a free hand to form a shape: the legs of a man. He repeated the gesture for quiet, and waved upward, then he slipped out the opening as quietly as he could and glided over to a spot out of sight of the one open chamber, hoping to make a better assessment of the situation before things came to a head.
: The Andrithan Healerplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Andrithan Healer
“Arnell, is it true?” Voss asked. “Corbyn, why would you accuse him of such a thing?
“Just being cautious, Mr. Voss. It seems Sir Arnell did something -- not necessarily malevolent, mind you -- but he realized something and I would like to hear from him that this is indeed the case.
: Where to Find a Secretplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: Where to Find a Secret
They continued to exchange information over the next hours. Arnell asked each of the others about their backgrounds, and was rewarded with stories of Tala as a wanderer from the east, Voss as a member of the savage Vhoosch tribe, Gil as a House Guard of Morenth who had felt drawn to
: The Enclave of the Madplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Enclave of the Mad
After leaving Tala, they moved deeper into the forest just to be safe. The woods were inhabited, if very sparsely, and a determined enough enforcer might check each and every hamlet that was under the influence of Yunim.
They soon approached a clearing which seemed like an excellent place for a meeting, except that a group of a half dozen people was already there, around a single long hut with a grass-thatched roof. An old man naked to the waist sat on the ground, leaning over a large book. His…
Time passed quietly, aside from the occasional muttering from one of the Mad. Voss continued to pace around the edge of the clearing, watching for any signs of trouble. The strange residents of this camp did not seem to offer any threat, but the odd children made him uneasy, children who never entered into normal reality, despite changing positions occasionally. An hour passed, then two. The arrival of the group must have spurred an unusual moment of activity, or perhaps they were unusually quie…
: The Meetingplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Meeting
With the High Mage of Brundash just a few yards away, Arnell’s guard dropped. Not only was his long time hero standing in front of him, but also a great mage who could probably blink an eye and send Arnell to the netherworld. He tried not to look awestruck. Partly to indicate to the others that this mage was not to be trifled with, but mainly from his own respect for the man,
: The Mad Mage's Curseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_big: The Mad Mage's Curse
Outside, Fovery quickly caught up to Halaren. The priest recognized the mage's stance. It was obvious that high mage hadn't always been his profession. “What troubles you?” he asked.
Halaren sobbed as he leaned against what he thought was a tree, drawing in heavy breath. Nuts rolled from the bowl as his grip weakened.
Argol is a spindly, pot-bellied man in his sixties, with dark brown hair that is rapidly fading into a dingy grey. A horse riding accident in his youth broke several of his front teeth, giving him a crooked and odd-looking smile. Because of this oddity, and his profession, he has been nicknamed
Belazan: The conflict dates back to the beginning of time, and has little to do with magic. I imagine the first men to craft arrow heads out of stone were feared and hated by their enemies, and the weapons themselves viewed with suspicion. Nothing changed when mages began to hire themselves out to princes and kings. The kingdom with more power was hated, but that hatred couldn't target an entire kingdom. To do so would be to admit inferiority. Instead, the weapons…
Before the Battle of the Magics, Brundash was the mysterious home of a world-wide organization of magi. Even then, few could claim to have seen it, and no one would say where or even what it was. Brundash was a term used both for the place, and the organization.
Cewethir is a medium sized man with a shaved head and deep blue eyes. His hair is actually very light brown, sun-bleached almost blond, and quite ample if he were to let it grow, but he has long since given up trying to keep the coal dust out of his hair and finds it easier to shear it off. His body is lean but muscular, and his position as guildmaster has not softened the strength he built in the mines.
This is a rewrite of Turn 1, and the second revision of this chapter (previous version). I have taken many more liberties with events and dialogue in these rewrites than in the turns, where I never modify dialogue except to correct typos.
It had been a long journey, and there was still a long way to go. It was a month today since
This is a rewrite of Turn 1, Turn 2 and Turn 3, and the second revision of this chapter (previous version). I have taken many more liberties with events and dialogue in these rewrites than in the turns, where I never modify dialogue except to correct typos.
Ardith, Sahlman and Brinn exchanged the names of the inns where they were staying, and they agreed to meet at the Red Eye Tavern at noon. When they got there, they sat at a table together and ordered food. Soon, Huerten City
This is a rewrite of Turn 1, Turn 2 and Turn 3. There is a newer version of this rewrite.
The group agreed that they were best off traveling together. Who knew what one might find out in the wild? They separated that morning to explore the market, but agreed to meet back at the Red Eye Tavern at noon.
Continuing was difficult at first. Ardith and Ziedon could only carry the townsman so far, and they had to stop every minute or so to rest. Brinn was not nearly tall enough to take a corner of the litter. Although Sahlman tried to help, it was obvious that his arm was causing him trouble, and after half an hour, he had to admit that he'd done all he could.
This is a rewrite of Turn 5, Turn 6, Turn 7 and Turn 8.
With Brinn strapped securely to his back, Sahlman climbed the rope. Occasionally Brinn would startle the warrior by jerking his head suddenly and mumbling, as if waking from a dream.
Sahlman heard the whistle. He looked up to the top of the large tree, and then at the townsman. Muttering, he quickly removed his kheffiya and desert robe, and stuffed them into his shoulder bag. His appearance would still be notable, but definitely not so much as it had been.
This is a rewrite of Turn 8, Turn 9 and Turn 10. I have taken many more liberties with events and dialogue in these rewrites than in the turns, where I never modify dialogue except to correct typos.
The morning offered a pitiful view of Grenzig. The doors to public buildings swung free in the wind, some hanging by a single hinge or laying on the ground. Shutters had been smashed, and scattered shards of broken glass were all that remained of once valuable
I've transferred the other group to a new mailing list I designed, which hides your real email address and saves your posts to the web site. Please reply to this email to help me test it. Let me know if there are any problems.
Sorry for the slowness, everyone. Ive been busy, and the common cold has become considerably more common this year. I have most of a response for zioth2. Ill try to get it out soon, along with responses for Ziedon and Kreemon.
I've just activated the new zioth1 alias which you helped me test. Here's what it does:
- It hides your real email address, provided you've given me the address (I'd be happy to add more - just send them over). Other players will receive email from [your character]@zioth.com.
Ziedon was announced, and Velirra arrived, dressed in an efficient gown whose simplicity clashed with the gaudy colors of the room. She was tall enough that, with her shoes, she saw eye to eye with Ziedon, and her shoulder-length hair enveloped a round, healthy and surprisingly young face. She could not have been older than twenty-five. That youthful face currently wore a look of disappointment.
Calen Finterher is a medium sized man with a barrel chest and short but stout limbs. He wears his light brown hair at moderate length and is quite handsome (and more than a little proud at his good features).
His voice is little more than a harsh whisper. While he was working his way up the ranks, he was kicked in the throat by an ornery cow. While he was pleased that no disfiguring scar resulted, the kick did alter his voice. This leads him to be a private man, an…
The minstrel was tall and well-built. He had a developed moustache, although not so developed as Sahlman's, and the beginnings of a beard. The man wore baggy pants, and a loose vest. There were numerous places where he could have been hiding a small dagger or knife, and
This could afford to be a little longer, for such an important NPC...
Description
A short, stocky man with a balding head of curly, fiery red hair entered the room. His dull blue robes matched his eyes, and the sheath of a short sword hung from his waist.
The Graveyardplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe Graveyard
The Morenthian graveyard is just north of the House of Morenth. A small yard separates the two, ending in three parallel stone walls with no more than a foot and a half of space between them. Beyond the the walls is a gate which opens into the graveyard. Morenthians bury their dead in mass graves. One tombstone that
This is an email thread from 2006, where Alex played out a fake scenario over email, just for fun.
4/24/06 From Ziedon (DM's post written by Ziedon):
" Hathron's body slumped to the ground with Ziedon's dagger still stuck in his back but it was already too late. Hathron had completed the summoning. The stench of sulfur permeated the room as a dark presence filled the pentagram.
Hewlard has little military power, but he is a charismatic man, and his abilities as an orator made him better known to the people during the conflict between Galgewe and Silnquost. He was quite effective in convincing
The House of Morenthplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth
As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under the House, to which access is severely restricted. Expensive glass windows d…
The Knights of Peaceplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe Knights of Peace
Description
Jerrakken describes the Knights of Peace as “a group of local self-armed guildless men who try to put down any upstart.” He directs Ziedon to the poor quarter. “Of three leaders, who work in a partnership, one can be easily found. He lives in the third house on the left along the street with two smithies at its head. You must say, 'peace in
[This map is obviously missing a lot. There aren't huge open spaces in Maelbourg.]
Maelbourg is a walled town in the Barony of Huerten, with a population of approximately six thousand. Its primary exports are textiles, wool and coal, the last of which it acquires from deposits in the nearby hills. The land on which the town sits was added to maelbourg index
Makierrei is a short man, about five two, potbellied and of medium build. His arms hang out a bit, as if he were a much heavier man than he actually is. He is balding and wears a moustache, which parallels heavy eyebrows. Almost comical when described, he is disappointingly ordinary in person.
Reden Orfort is a man of slightly above average height, with dark brown hair. While not fat, he appears soft, and tires easily. He is prone to wearing finery of an almost ridiculous style and expense, and keeps an entire team of seamstresses at his beck and call. He has not appeared in the turns.
The Dutchy of Ostmarkplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe Dutchy of Ostmark
By Ted Hessing, revised by the DM. Last updated 12/19/2012.
The Dutchy of Ostmark stretches along the coast of Rang and into the interior, and makes up the entire northeastern border of the kingdom. The capital of Ostmark, Darnien is a seaport to rival
Guildmaster Gal Silnquostplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuildmaster Gal Silnquost
Description
A man in his forties, tall, at least while seated, who had a full head of graying hair. He was of unspectacular appearance, but his voice made up for it. Townsman Silnquost was as tall as Ziedon, an unusual thing in Huerten. Like most townsmen, he was equipped with an ornate dagger that bore the insignia of his guild on its hilt. He also wore a sword, and, though it was difficult to tell through the elaborate clothing, there might have been a little extra …
Spells testplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigSpells test
This is how I used to keep track of NPCs! It's a huge list of every character who appeared through turn 91, with the turns they appeared in. Numbers in are turns where the person was named, but doesn't actually appear. Current and former player characters have their names in
He was at least seven feet tall, and, though his legs were like sticks, the girth of his chest and shoulders showed that he must have been quite imposing in his day. Even now, the fifty-year-old giant looked like he could take on two or three younger men in a fight, with or without the long sword sheathed at his waist. His eyes and mouth were wrinkled, not in the way of excessive smiling, but not so much the opposite either, and his head was bald except for a rim …
Some time after Townsman Ulan is kicked out of Maelbourg by Galgewe, Ulan's party runs into Ardith and the others. While Ulan is pleading with them for help, another group comes in pursuit. Ulan flees, and some of his soldiers stay behind. While the two groups of soldiers argue,
Worsen is tall and gaunt. He shaves his pate bald to hide his awkwardly thinning hair, and has dark grey eyes. He has a deep scar on his neck and chest due to an old accident at the forge. Generally, he keeps it covered up. Despite a somewhat unusual appearance, his sonorous voice and friendly manner have enamored him to many of the common people of
Ziedon stands a little under six feet tall and is relatively thin. He has a neatly trimmed black beard and mustache which stand out considerably against his pale skin. His hazel eyes seem to see everything around him. Ziedon's white hair is cut short in the traditional townsman's style. Ziedon's garb is of a well-to-do townsman. He normally wears a thin, off-white shirt with eleven pairs of wooden knobs and strings in the front with a brown and green band of cloth was laid across his sh…
Book 1 Chapter 1: A Chance Meeting in Dunweig (Rewrite of turn 1)Chapter 2: An Anxious Employer (Rewrite of turns 1, 2 and 3)Chapter 3: Knowing All the Facts (Rewrite of turns 3, 4 and 5)Chapter 4: Trouble in Grenzig (Rewrite of turns 5, 6, 7 and 8)Chapter 5: Taking the Town by Force (Rewrite of turns 6, 7 and 8)Chapter 6: Balban's Reward (Rewrite of turns 8, 9 and 10) Book 2 : In the Forest: Brininig: An Attempt to Continue: A Fight with Wolves: Ziedon's Adventure: Throu…
campaign_historyplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigHistory of the Zioth D&D Campaign
The Zioth campaign world came into existence some time in 1994, a few months after I first got a hold of the Second Edition Player's Handbook and Dungeon Master's Guide. It began as a mathematical exercise. I named five moons, gave them lunar cycles, and tried to figure out how often they would all be new at once. Having forgotten how to calculate the lowest common multiple, it took me a long time, but I eventually worked out that a moonless night would occur o…
I always welcome comments, suggestions and criticism of my web site and the game!
introplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe Coming of the Zioth
Welcome to a world that has nineteen years left to live. In nineteen years, on the one thousand twentieth year of the Zioth, all five moons will leave the sky for a night, and the world will be destroyed and rebuilt. But who can believe such stories in a world at its prime? Everything is normal. The strange creatures of legend are nowhere to be seen, and magic? A story to put children to sleep.
lurkersplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigBecome a Lurker
Lurkers are emailed about new game turns and major website updates.
Yes, this is simple and ugly, but it's a start!. I plan to make it prettier, and add time elements from game history. I also plan to add in specific important events from the turns.