A Necessary Evil

And so our group was assimilated into a clan of folks called Necessary Evil. Quite a fitting name.

As new recruits, we were hardly treated any better than we had been when we were living in the wild. We still slept in the mud, and instead of having free reign, we had to gather raw materials for the clan, an initiation fee. We were allowed a fire though.

Before we could be trusted as true members of Necessary Evil, we had to muster up 100 pieces of timber, and 100 iron ingots. This turned out to be a much easier job than before, as we now had large stretches of safe land to harvest from. But working to make these marauders even wealthier disturbed me. I figured it was something I'd just have to get used to though. I didn't exactly have to go with them on their killing sprees, maybe not everyone in the clan was a raider.

As we assimilated into clan life, our tight knit group of friends that had formed on the mainland soon began to unravel and go its separate ways.

Redham took to the seas, to no one's surprise, and manned cannons on voyages to hunt massive beasts called krakens. He wouldn't get much of the treasure haul from successful trips, but he said he enjoyed himself nonetheless. It sounded like good fun, and I regret not going with him.

Publius would accompany him on many of these outings, but he soon fell victim to routine. Each day I'd see him rise, spar in the city with other members of the clan, then he would be required to get on board a ship and head out to hunt the same beasts over and over again. Sometimes at the day's end he'd talk to me about the other folks he was meeting at sea, but never with much enthusiasm. It seemed to me he enjoyed his time with Necessary Evil less and less. Then one day, he was simply gone. No one knew where he went, or why, but I had my guesses.

The others soon vanished as well. Clan life didn't quite fit them here on this exotic island. Some began to miss the mainland, other's missed their freedom and independence. Some were just outright disturbed by the activities the clan was involved in.

There was one of us though, who seemed to benefit the most.

The dissenter, the one who first suggested we join with these men, took to the killing easily. He reveled in it. Before long he was training day and night. Sometimes I'd join him while he sat and listened for hours to the clan leaders. They'd ramble on about how best to kill, where to find the most vulnerable people, and the fastest way to get gold. It didn't settle well with me, and ignored most of it, but from the look on my friend's face, he was absorbing every last word. With disturbing quickness, he became a different person. Or, I wonder now, perhaps he was always that way, and he just needed to be put in the right environment.

I worried a little, that such a person could have been so closely involved in our own group, that I hadn't seen this side. How much did I really know my other allies? I tried to console myself by reminding myself that I wasn't the one who recruited all of them. But the words meant little, when faced with the reality that I had lost my allies to this clan. What's worse, as time went on, and I got a sense of the bigger picture, of the politics of clans all over Agon, the one we had rashly sided with was fairly unimportant and poor. I'd had enough.

After about a month enduring time with the barbarians, and watching my friends vanish one by one, I decided it was time to leave. Redham tried to convince me to stay, but he quickly gave up, as even he could hardly stand to be on Yssam any longer. But when it came time for me to leave, he decided to remain behind. I took the wood I had gathered for our clan leaders, and fashioned it into a raft. Gathering my best possessions, I set out back for Mercia.

MMORP.ORG

I've posted my next Travelogue over at Brando's new website for roleplayers. It's a bridge story without pictures, mostly due to my lack of internet for the past 2 months. This won't be a regular thing, but I thought, if any of my readers aren't aware of the new site yet, they should be!

There's a thread with an explanation over at the official Darkfall forums.

http://forums.darkfallonline.com/showthread.php?p=4524717#post4524717


and here is the link to the bridge story on the new website.

http://www.mmorp.org/entry.php?13-Darkfall-Travelogues-Ending-of-an-Era


And once again, I encourage you guys to give any feedback on these Travelogues. I love comments, and if you've got any things in game you want me to check out/post about, say so here!



Edit: For continuity's sake, I'll stick the "exclusive" story here.



That was how my first chapter in the land of Agon ended.

Our habits and lifestyles changed over the next month just as radically as our surroundings had. For the first few days, we kept quiet, only traveling at night, avoiding areas that looked like they might hold some dangerous creatures or men. The encounter with the raptors had left us shaken, and the other wildlife on Yssam was truly fearsome. There was an old beauty as well though. We discovered great elementals of fire and earth marching about the land, gods only knowing how many years they'd seen.

One of our more eager recruits wanted to do battle with the creatures, and refused to be talked down. I allowed him to make the attempt, but told him the rest of us wouldn't be around to help. We heard shouts of pain mere minutes later, and the recruit came running back to camp looking very battered and more than a little singed.

As we became more and more comfortable on Yssam, it became harder to maintain our low profile. Soon we had discovered actual cities, much like the ones back on the mainland, but the laws were different in each one, and they all seemed to attract the worst sorts of individuals.

We lived off the foreign land as well as we could. Many of the plants didn't appear to be edible, but the few that were tasted like they came from heaven itself, or that's how I felt anyway. Redham didn't quite care of eating "rabbit food".

However, our simple life as wandering adventurers did not last, and was soon changed forever.

One of the largest threats on Yssam was not the exotic creatures or poisonous wildlife, but the people that lived there. They were a cutthroat bunch that would rather shoot first than ask you why you were trespassing. It's a harsh world, and it's understandable that behavior like this would develop. But some went further than just defending their land. Some groups rode out in force, hunting other humans, laughing as they sliced.

I took great pains to avoid these lunatics, but the resolve of the company with me was not as strong. While the men were undoubtedly monsters, they were wealthy monsters. The land they controlled was extensive, and rich with farms and mines.

One morning, as I was laying in the mud with Redham Publius and the others, avoiding yet another raiding party, a recruit finally called it quits.

"I'm sick of being hunted like an animal, I'm sick of eating these foul smelling plants, and I'm sick of being cold all the time. You won't even allow us a fire!"

I raised my head to glance around, thanking the gods that the raiding party wasn't within earshot of the outburst. "Keep your voice down, they're hardly even over that hill! We don't have a fire because it would draw these murderers right to us!"

"You call them murderers but they're not that different from you or I" he responded coldly.

I sat up slowly, not sure how to react. "We aren't the ones riding around slaying anything that moves! And how would you know anyway? It's not like you can get one of them to talk, save when you hear their taunts as they run you through."

The recruit looked a bit unsure, but soon hooves were heard in the mud again and we all ducked back down. This seemed to steel his resolve and he angrily hissed "Yes, I did meet with one of them. He ran into me when he was on patrol. You know, we don't HAVE to fight eachother!"

Face pressed to the mud I glared, "You call THIS fighting?"

Getting more and more determined the recruit nearly shouted, "He offered for us to join them! We could live in houses, share the wealth from their raids, eat cooked meat again!"

I had no words to respond, the proposal was mad, I was aghast, but the others weren't quite so taken aback, and soon they appeared interested in hearing more from the recruit. We had a full blown discussion right there in the muck. It was clear within the first five minutes what the outcome would be. I fought as long as I could, but even Redham was against me. I implored them all to think about it throughout the day and then sleep on it, and the matter was put aside for a bit longer.

Before the night was even a quarter through, a thunderstorm kicked up, and our company, soaked and cold decided enough was enough. I reluctantly agreed, and that very night we gathered all our belongings and marched towards the lands of the marauders. The days that followed were every bit as bad as I feared they would be.

Run Through the Jungle

My foot was hooked by a wine vine and with a great crash I fell face down in the sucking mud. I tried pushing myself back onto my feet, but my arms just slipped out from under me and I collapsed again. I gave up the struggle and just lay still. I was too exhausted and scared to move. The only sound was my labored breathing into the grime and the loud plinking of rain hammering into the back of my armor.

I had been running for what felt like hours. I had little clue as to where I was. The coast was somewhere behind me. I was drenched in rain sweat and mud. I had lost the others almost immediately after reaching the shore. Once again, our shoddy planning had gotten us into a mess.

After we had secured the raft we started off at a quiet run through the dense jungle. The plant life was unlike anything I'd seen before. Great red fungi stood around the base of massive trees. Everything was brimming with life and I had a great desire to examine such foreign beauty, but we weren't in safe lands and Piratejim reminded us we needed to continue moving.





We ran unopposed for the first 5 minutes or so, but soon out of the darkness came the whistle of arrows. If the foliage hadn't been so thick, I think that would have been the end right there, but our attackers were only tracking us by sound. Even so within seconds I had several arrows sticking out of various bits of my armor. None bit deeply, but not everyone was as well armored as I. Llemon cursed and reached for a potion as one arrow punched into his ribs and Redham suffered one to his shoulder.

We all ducked into the brush and tried to stay as still as possible. Publius told us all to stay down while he took a quick look around. Every instinct in my body was screaming for me to run. The danger wasn't greater than any of the other challenges I'd faced, yet the terror was entirely different. It wasn't the deep brooding darkness like I had felt from the Guardian, it was the simple animalistic terror of not being able to see your attacker, not knowing where and when the final blow may come from.

Soon the arrows stopped, and Publius returned informing the rest of us that our attackers had gone off to the east.

"Anyone too hurt to run?" Redham asked. Not waiting for a reply he continued, "whoever controls this place now knows that we're here. Our best chance is to stick together, and we do not stop running, got it? Let's go!" We rose and began a dead spring northward, where we knew a bindstone would be waiting for us.

We hardly made it another minute before we hit our next snag, a very hungry and angry snag.

All our heads swiveled to stare at the creature that had thundered through the brush ahead of us. It was a living raptor, something I thought I'd never see. It was just like the pictures I remember, from the sharp teeth to the hooked toe claws, and the far too intelligent reptilian eyes. It screeched to the sky and from the jungle all around us came answering cries, maybe half a dozen of them. That was too much for me and I gave into instinct and tore off blindly by myself.

That should have sealed my fate, separating myself from the group with a pack of hungry predators around me, but by some miracle our old attackers had returned and fired upon us again. It was a perfect storm of chaos. Tails and teeth flashed as the raptors tore off in different directions. Some went after the bowmen, some after my friends, who were now all running in different directions. I bolted north, praying to come across the bindstone before a raptor decided to follow me.




As I ran a heavy rain started, and it became difficult to carry on, my heavy armor causing my feet to sink deep into the mud. If anyone had decided to come after me I wouldn't have had a chance. Hopefully the others were having similar good fortune.

I didn't stop running, not even when I saw a lone rider on a horse. Under normal circumstances I would have considered sneaking up on this man to get a closer look, maybe even try to steal his horse, but my fight of flight responses were continually screaming flight. Between my heavy armor and heavy breathing, the rider had no trouble hearing me, and soon it gave chase, calling something out to me. Wish blood pounding in my ears, and the rain pouring down on me, I could hear nothing. Drawing on my last reserves of endurance I changed course and ran straight into the dense jungle hoping the horseman wouldn't be able to follow.

Perhaps it wasn't luck. Whoever was ruling my fate just wanted to see me struggle a little bit longer before I was inevitably hunted down. It was here that I collapsed into the mud, with no strength to rise. I sat in terrified silence, listening to the occasional thunder rumble through the sky. I silently prayed that I wouldn't be found on the ground, covered in mud amidst the flora. Soon though, it became clear that my wishes were not going to be granted. Through the rain I heard the snort of the horse and the sound of its shod feet plodding through the mud. The squelches got closer as the horseman walked his mount up to my body. I tightened the grip on my sword, preparing to strike when the man got too close. It was about all I could hope to do, I was already utterly spent.



"I never took you for a coward, Signus. Are you going to get up or am I going to have to tie you to the horse?" I rolled onto my back and when I wiped the muck from my helm I could see Publius sitting atop a horse, shaking his head at me. "Come on and get up, there's another horse at the edge of the wood you can use... What?" I had begun laughing at him. Slowly at first, but soon I had fully lost control of myself and was laughing so hard that I was choking for air. The ridiculousness of the situation just had me entirely bewildered. I could not even begin to imagine a situation where Publius would have ended up here with me, with two horses, sitting there calm as can be. "Stop laughing like an idiot and get over here, it isn't exactly safe in case you hadn't noticed."

Still laughing I followed Publius to the other horse and we took off at a gallop northwards. Before long we saw the tell tale sign of a bindstone, a bright ray of white light shooting into the sky. We made it the rest of the way without incident and bound ourselves to Yssam. The rest of the crew was there well ahead of me, and said they were about to send someone out looking for me and Publius. With relief I removed my armor and placed it inside small camp's vault and quickly fell asleep right there in the dirt.

The Open Seas

When I finally saw Piratejim again, he was nearly bouncing with excitement. Clearly he had some good news for me, and before our drinks even arrived at the bar in Sanguine, he was raving about the things that had happened to him while I was gone. Amidst his adventures, he apparently found two new recruits for our group of adventurers, and better yet, secured enough materials to construct our first raft.

"So it's finally happening, you get to be a real pirate?"

"It's not much, just a raft, but it's a start. And I already am a real pirate! Maybe we can use it to board some stray merchant vessel or..." he rambled on, outlining several profitable scenarios and ways to build his own fleet. I smiled and started in on the drink that had finally arrived. I let him finish telling me of the ship and the new recruits before I got started on my visit to Sandstone.

Recalling that night, the Darkness crept into my mind again, and I decided to leave out the part about the guardian speaking to me. It was proving difficult to forget.

"Hunting these artifacts sounds like a pretty big deal, maybe something we can take on in the future, but not yet," I finished.

"Mm, I suppose you're right. Besides, there's no water near Sandstone! We need to get our new vessel out on the waves as soon as possible! And, I know just the place to take it to." Redham ordered more drinks and we talked well into the night, until finally, drowsy from too much ale, I staggered up the stairs to get some sleep. Redham continued to drink long into the night, chatting up the local patrons.








A few days later, the new group stood along the shore waiting for Piratejim to arrive with our hard earned raft. We took our best armor and weapons with us, and plenty of supplies, in case we ran into trouble on the water. We didn't want to lose the raft to some random band of pirates, that was supposed to be our job, as Redham continually reminded us.

Beside me stood Publius, and next to him the two new recruits, Pangalactic, a fire wizard, and Llemon, a dwarf, the first I'd seen! Very strange folks, but they fit in with the group all the better for it.


Another hour passed, and Piratejim at last came floating down the river on our very first raft.



It was small and quaint, but it was ours. We all quickly boarded and shoved off towards deeper waters and the open sea. The water frothed around the sides and as we got closer to the ocean I heard the cry of gulls. The salt from the waves collected on my burnished steel armor.

Redham couldn't be happier, and I finally believed that at some point he must have been a pirate, because he handled the craft and the sail well and with familiar hands.




When we got out to open water the rest of us got our fishing poles out and cast them deep into the ocean's waters. Soon it became a competition to see who could catch the most swordfish. It turned out to be a great way to get to know Llemon and Pangalactic, because when the waters are calm and the fish are biting your almost forced into a jovial and talkative mood. Only Piratejim stayed quiet as he guided our ship to unknown lands.






The journey was long, and after a time even fishing began to lose its appeal (that, and we were beginning to run out of room to store our catch) So with the sun setting and little else to do, we turned to sparring on the tiny vessel.


The results were about as good as anyone could have expected. The fighting was good natured, but it soon got carried away and someone ended up overboard, trying to stay afloat in their heavy armor, chasing after the raft as it sailed away. It was good for a laugh, until we saw fins poke out of the foam in the distance.

"Redham, stop the boat, Publius is overboard and there are sharks!"

"Damnit guys, I just wanted one trip without someone dying! This is why we can't have nice things!" Piratejim shouted as he dropped the sail and tried to steer the boat around. Publius was in full panic now trying to crawl up the ramp and back into the boat, slipping over the wet hardwood.


Where once there were two fins, now there were three, as other predators gathered to see what was causing the commotion. Llemon took out a shortbow and began firing into the water, but the blood just attracted more beasts and drove them into a frenzy.



They began throwing themselves at the boat, sometimes attempting to bite it, not acting like any sharks I had ever heard of. The crew was pretty terrified and we began tossing fish overboard to try to sate our pursuers.

Piratejim turned the sail and it caught a good gust, pulling us ahead of the feasting sharks. The crew cheered as we left the fins behind. No one poked so much as a toe over the side of the boat for the rest of the journey, and things went smoothly for a time.


We weren't safe yet though. Piratejim called to us when he saw land drawing close on the horizon. We were coming up on Yssam, a jungle island much further north than we'd ever traveled. It was a place full of terrible beasts and even more dangerous people. We approached the beach under cover of night, praying no one had spotted us as we ghosted to the sand.

"Once we hit the beach we're going to have to charge into the jungle in a dead sprint. There's a vault and a bindstone north through the jungle, if we get killed before you make it there, that's the end of the raft, and we'll have no way to come back." As Redham gave instructions to the recruits I marveled at how life could still be so incredibly difficult despite being unable to actually die. If I was killed and PirateJim didn't we'd be split off with an entire continent between us. Little chance of seeing one another again after that, and our small guild would die an early death.





"So as soon as the raft is secure, I want everyone to follow me through the jungle, stay as quiet as possible, but do not stop for anything."
"Quiet? Sprinting in this? How?" Publius said, knocking on his metal breastplate.


"Just don't make more noise than you have to, and don't be stupid!" There were nods all around, and Piratejim turned back to the wheel to guide is in. I took a steadying breath and got ready to charge.

The Nithron Return

The sun was shining brightly over Hildershall when I returned through its gates, triumphant and proud. In my mind, I could hear the horns of heralds welcoming me back.

Iain Deepwode was at his usual spot, working at his desk. His face lit up when I strode up to him, but I figured it wasn't due to my safe return. His eyes were transfixed upon the crown I held before me.



Taking it carefully from my hands and inspecting it, he whispered to himself "This is not exactly how the Diadem was described in the books..." It was true, the Crown didn't look as magnificent as Iain implied it would be. In fact, it looked fairly mundane, and very faded with age. "Well Signus, you did a good job. Our mages will determine if this is the real Diadem. Its power may not yet be fully awakened. Someone will be along to pay you shortly, but I imagine now you wish me to tell you what this is all about?"

Iain spun a long tale about Agon, centuries ago, and how, somewhere between the fall of the Chaldean Empire and the present day, a race of golden skinned beings called the Nithron reigned over the land.



They were tall, giants by the standards of men, and possessed powerful magical abilities, not least of which was immortality. Death was possible through combat it seemed, as all the Nithron remains found on Agon bore the marks of a violent death.

They were few in number for whatever reason, and lived more as lords rather than a race unto themselves. They ruled over the lesser beings of Agon and used them as tools of war in a game against other Nithron leaders, and forced them to construct colossal buildings and monuments. Some were still around, and as Iain described them, I realized I had seen some before just outside of Sandbrook.


But just as suddenly as they appeared, they died off, taking their magic and secrets with them.




"But now Signus, the dungeons and caches and burial chambers which stored their wealth have begun to fill with terrible monsters again. Guardians. Sealed off from the outside world and gathering dust for centuries, these tombs are now alive, and the artifacts within glow with power. Something is returning, and our organization, the Sons of Riada, seek to use this power. Will you help us track down more artifacts?"


Throughout the story I'd sat in wonder. Until now, it seemed all the great events and deeds of the world were long in the past, buried in history books. Now Agon had become a place of perpetual war without meaning, with not even death as an escape. The Usurper Gods that once drove the conflict have long since fallen silent. How could I not jump at a chance to be a part of real history?

But, I still felt something was wrong. A light was burning in Iain's eyes, a lust not for scholarly mysteries, but for power. Was I right to help this man? Well, maybe this magic would finally give the Humans an edge over our enemies and free us from this purgatory. It would be worth it then, certainly?







A day later I stood outside the ruins of Sandstone, a city that Iain said was once ruled over by a great Nithron King. When he died his central treasure, the Dragontorc, vanished with him. The Sons of Riada were hoping that it had returned to the mortal plane, as the Diadem of Dawn had. It was my job to look for it.



The city was dark and decayed, the stagnant air was filled with grit and sand. Most of the stone buildings had long since collapsed, but a few impressive temples remained. Along the edges of some of the buildings were stone pits. It was not difficult to imagine prisoners getting tossed inside them to fight for sport in a time long passed. Between the buildings, where there was once ground, now existed only shallow sea of mud, as if the entire city were sinking, or perhaps, rising again.



I searched the temples first and it wasn't long before I found the treasure chest I was looking for. Upon opening the chest however, I discovered only some commonplace loot that would hardly be fit for a new recruit.


Baffled, I continued my search. These ruins had no life to them, no creatures or defenders, no magic. I was beginning to think that the Nithron hadn't returned to this particular city. As night fell however, my mind was changed. After hours of silent searching, I felt a wave of energy pass through air and my hair stood on end. I stopped moving to try to hear around me. Silent, save for the occasional gurgle of the mud. I was about to continue my search when I felt a second pulse immediately followed by hissing all around me. Still, I saw nothing, but an overwhelming sense of dread settled over me.

From out of the darkness crept a large number of skeletons, and one cyclopean monster. The sword it held in its skeletal hands was almost twice the length of my entire body. And then, It spoke to me.



"Trespasser." It whispered. The voice felt slimy and rotten, and oozed out over my mind. It was almost enough to make me wretch. My vision darkened and my breathing slowed, and I was transfixed. It took step towards me, arcane energy swirling around its body. "You walk on sacred ground. Here rest the gods you shall not disturb. I keep the land pure for their return. Thou must be purified."

And then, It leveled a blast of energy at my body. I flew backwards into the wall, my instantly feeling weak. Smaller skeletons swarmed towards me, while their dark master simply walked away. I pushed myself to my feet, quaffed a potion. Feeling strengthened I pushed by the minions and charged straight at the retreating monster.



A bubbling hissing noise came from Its mouth as it turned to engage me. It was laughing, and as I drew closer, I didn't blame It. I may as well have been running headlong into a fortified keep. It towered over me, blocking the moon and stars. "The land must be pure, the Dragon must return."

I thrust my sword forward, and hit an invisible force, slowing my swing. Again I struck, this time pushing through the barrier and lodging the sword into the leg of the monster. Hissing laughter again came from it's mouth, and my sword was stuck. It's bones creaked as it raised it's great weapon above its head. I took cover behind my shield, but Its swing easily split the flimsy defense in half, and the blade bit deep into my bones. Screaming, blood pouring from my body, I fell backwards as the sword came down again. Hissing bubbling laughter, and then all was black.



My second "death". It felt worse than the last, much worse. I rose again at the Hildershall bind stone, sick and weak. When I had recovered somewhat, I returned to Iain Deepwode and told him I had decided to abandon the search for the Dragontorc. He was not pleased, but as I told him my story, he understood why. Instead of looking disturbed though, the hunger for power returned to his eyes. He dismissed me, but instructed me to return again some day, with help.

The encounter left me deeply unsettled. I could still hear the voice in my head, making me feel sick and disturbed. I was not yet ready to deal with immortals and Demi gods. Not even mentally. My best option was simply to return to Sanguine and see what Redham would have to say. My time in Hildershall was at an end for now, but from that day a shadow stayed on my mind. Agon had suddenly become something much darker.

The Mystery of the Nithron

With Publius in our ranks, our fortunes continued to increase. We built a name for ourselves in Sandbrook and more and more citizens began requesting tasks from us. We escorted merchants, recovered valuable items, scouted out and brought back word from other cities, and even took out a rather powerful goblin encampment. One of the poor goblins had gotten it into his head that he was a noble, and called himself the Duke of Stabby. Truth be told he was quite a challenge, but he fell like the rest.

Soon, the larger threats of Sandbrook had been dealt with, and we felt it was time to move on to a town that needed us more. Our task was still to drive back the evil creeping across Mercia. We thought this would be best accomplished by splitting up and exploring. So with an agreement to meet at the pub in Sanguine in a week, the three of us set out on our own.


It was good to be traveling my own path again. I didn't stray very far from Sandbrook while I was with Piratejim, and I quickly felt the wanderlust building the further from the Sandbrook I got. But even as I looked forward to the trail, fear crept back into my mind. I had grown too comfortable in the company of my friends, care would have to be taken to make sure I didn't end up on the wrong end of an Ork's greataxe or being hounded by an Alfar raiding party.

As I traveled I found ruins and cities occupied by beasts, evidence of the decay of civilization. I even found a proud Mirdain city completely infested by hivekins.



A bit further south I came to a great mountain rising up next to the river that had originally carried me into Agon. To my surprise, there was a fortified city nestled on the other side of it. Judging from the beam of light coming from it, the city also had a bind stone. The sun was fading quickly, so stopping here to rest and ask around seemed like a logical thing to do.



Apparently my name had traveled a good distance, because the folks of the town were familiar with me, and I was quickly pointed to one Iian Deepwode who had work he needed someone to take care of. After a little searching, I found the man idling by a desk at the far end of town. As I approached he stood and addressed me.

"Ah, so this is the fighter from Sandbrook I heard so much about? I hear that you've come to Hildershall looking for work!"

"It is true, sir," I replied, pleased my reputation had indeed carried outside of town. "Sandbrook can handle itself on it's own for now, and new recruits are coming in soon, so I sought to put my skills to the test elsewhere."

"Well then you've come to the right place, recruit." Iian said grinning. "I have a task of great import that needs to be completed. Something... troubling has resurfaced." Suddenly he stopped, and eyed my silently for a few moments. I shuffled my feet and waited. At last he shook his head and continued, "Skilled though you may be, I think I need to witness it first hand to be sure you can handle my assignment."




"There are important things stirring in the world, things rising again which have not been seen for centuries. If you want to join history in the making you must first prove yourself to me. Outside this city there's a cluster of ghost spiders and a sarlid camp. They have a symbiotic relationship; wherever one shows, the other group is quick to follow. They trouble us little behind our great walls in Hildershall, but travelers are getting torn apart. Take care of them for me, and then we'll talk again." With that he abruptly sat back down at his desk began writing, as if I were already gone.

I wasn't sure how to react. I was a bit insulted, dealing with spiders for a town that isn't even threatened by them? But my curiosity proved to be stronger than my pride. I immediately left out the city gates into the darkening wilderness, planning to tackle the problem before the sun rose again.




I found the spiders easily enough, they glowed green and winked in and out of sight like large fireflies. They were killed swiftly.

The sarlids, however, were a bit of a challenge. They had a strong pack mentality. Whenever I managed to corner one, the others would blast me with magic, weakening and slowing my body, and then they'd close in. It was all I could do to keep their vicious swords for tearing me to ribbons in my weakened state.



However, with a few potions and some ranged fighting, eventually the sarlids and spiders were both finished. Exhausted, I returned to Iian, ready to hear the rest of his tale. He was quite surprised to see me so soon. His surprise only grew when I dropped a bag full of spider legs and sarlid swords on his desk. He looked through the bag, nodded, and stood once more.

"I see you are a hard working recruit, Signus, as well as skilled. Perhaps you are right for this job, though I'm still not convinced you can handle it on your own. What of the other recruits I heard you traveled with?"

"We've gone seperate ways, for now. Whatever you have in mind for me, I'm sure I can handle on my own."

At this Iian frowned and scratched his chin, scrutinizing me. "We shall see. You are strong and bold, but perhaps stealth may be a greater ally in the task to come. This will be your final test, and if you return to me, I will reveal all I know to you." He paused to clear his throat and then continued. "I have a team of archaeologists digging somewhere out west, and they have recently discovered an important tomb. Inside was a legendary crown: the Diadem of Dawn. I had it shipped here immediately, but the caravan was ambushed by troll lords and they took it off to their hovel to the south of here. Recover the Diadem from them, and return it to me."



I wasted no more time. History is a particular weakness of mine. I had never actually heard of the Diadem of Dawn, but I was very eager to learn more. It wasn't far to the hovel, though I could smell it before I saw it. It was a great ditch in the earth, with stone huts and pools of muck inside, a typical place for trolls. With very little thought, I charged straight into the hovel, planning to slay all the beasts and claim the crown from the carnage. I had dealt with trolls before.

I had not, however, dealt with troll lords.




They are massive terrifying beasts, with axes that could easily split a man in half. It did not take longer fighting one before I realized I was completely and utterly outmatched. Like a coward I fled, and continued running, hearing growls behind me. I finally hit the ocean, and collapsed panting and bleeding into the surf. I camped nearby for the night, and in the morning, approached the situation with a much better plan.




After crunching on some very human looking bones, some trolls had drifted off to sleep, and I crept into the camp. I decided to check the small cave like structure in the heart of the hovel first.



As I sneaked into the main chamber and gazed at the skeletons hanging from the ceiling, the gravity of the situation hit me. In this small room was a sleeping troll lord. If I woke him, one shout and the others would come flooding down the tunnels, and there'd be no room to escape. My journey would come to a swift and sudden end.



Shaking slightly, I moved further into the room, and had to stifle a burst of laughter. The chest holding the Diadem of Dawn was sticking out plain as day, and it was right infront of me. They even put it up on a pedestal.






Free of worry, I opened the chest, grabbed the Diadem, and sprinted out the way I came; all idea of stealth cast aside. There was a great roar from inside the cave as my fleeing footsteps woke the troll and he and saw he'd been robbed. His friends began throwing rocks my way and grabbing their weapons, but it was too late. I was out of the pit and out across the plains laughing to myself before most of them could even wake.

And with that, I took off for Hildershall.

The Enemy of My Enemy

Redham was right, of course. I needed to get my mind off of this unsettling existential turn of events. I didn't quite believe it yet, but there was no reason for the old man to be lying to me. Grumbling, I followed Redham to the vault area and put on some fresh gear. "So, what was this you were saying about Centaurs? You don't mean that tribe to the south we were watching, do you?"

"Mm, the very same actually. Seems like there could be a bit of cash in it for us, and we've been wanting to get a closer look at those fancy lookin' centaur weapons."

I frowned at the prospect of facing those bows and swords. "Yes, but we decided we couldn't take them on by ourselves, remember?"

"Right you are. Good to see death didn't rattle your memory too badly." he said with a taunting smile. "I've met someone recently who I think might be able to join us. He's a raw recruit, like we were, but he shows promise. With him, we might be able to take these centaurs, and it gives the new guy a chance to show his mettle, eh? Besides, if we die, we just end up back here."

Sighing, I said "Yes well, even if that is true, death is not a process I'd like to go through again, the agony felt endless last time." Violently shaking my head, I said, "So, where are we to meet this mysterious recruit?" I continued to strap on some pauldrons and shin guards.

"He's going to meet me a little outside of town, and you're going to go on ahead to scout the centaur camp. We'll catch you there at midday." And with that, Redham took off jogging towards the city gate. With no other options left to me, I discarded some of my heavier armor for a stealthier set, took out a bow, and left via the south gate.




The area around the centaur camp was beautiful, the azure lake and emerald trees giving off a feeling of bright serenity. The centaurs themselves looked at peace here; like they weren't out to hurt anyone. I knew better. The beauty was a thin veil for this particularly vicious tribe. They quite enjoyed robbing people along the roads. In this camp, there were some rangers, some armored brutes, and in the center, with an ornate sword and shield, was the chief. Doubts over whether or not we could handle these beasts once against pushed themselves to the front of my mind. They had size, speed, and numbers over us. Hopefully Redham had a plan.




"Ok, so, the three of us will sneak as close as we can, and open fire on the nearest centaur, and hopefully drop him before he gets to us." Piratejim announced to our trio as we stood under a nearby tree.

In a heated and hushed voice, the new recruit Publius exclaimed, "That's the plan? And what happens if this plan should fail?" I was already appreciating the new guy, he seemed to have more sense than Redham, at least.

Redham looked my way and said "Very simple. Our fallback plan is always the same. We run, and live to fight another day!" Leaving no room for objection, he tore off into the glade. I shared a nervous glance with Publius, and reluctantly followed Redham with my bow in hand.



It went about as well as could be expected with such a brilliant plan. After the first arrows flew, they were returned ten fold, as the beasts galloped towards our position, our clever cover unsurprisingly proved to be a poor hiding place. We did manage to split some of them up, and I got a few good hits in with my short sword, but it was quickly apparent that we had to break off or be killed. The centaurs didn't chase too far, and contented themselves with firing at our backs as we fled to the shore.

When we collapsed in a thicket catching our breath, I rounded on Redham "That went well, have any other brilliant plans?" I probably shouldn't have blamed him so much, but I wasn't in the best of moods. Redham opened his mouth to speak but paused when the sound of heavy hooves thundered nearby.



Publius looked around, "Centaurs?" I shook my head, it was too heavy for centaurs, and now that it was closer, I wasn't sure it was hooves that I heard. Poking my head out of our hiding spot, I looked around long enough to see something that made me lock up. Two alfar in full scalemail armor, riding drakes were heading quickly towards our hiding place.

"Alfar! We need to leave, now!" I hissed to the rest. A dark look fell across Publius' face, but he nodded resolutely.

"You two run," he whispered, "I have an idea. Try to get in some arrow shots when you can, but keep your distance. Meet me at the river in 10 minutes" Publius then jumped into the road, and with a savage cry the Alfar were upon him. He zig zagged through the trees with the drakes hot on his heels.

"What is that fool doing?!" I gasped with wide eyes.

Taking out his bow Redham answered, "It's a trap, this is a smart recruit, I think. Hopefully those Alfar don't kill him off too soon." I took out my bow and fired at the pursuing Alfar, landing a few hits into the flanks of the monsters they were riding.  Publius led them straight into the centaur camp, and raised hell. The Alfar halted, surprised by the sudden appearance of a dozen centaurs, but they didn't even have time to move before scores of arrows peppered their mounts and armor. They were huge targets. In the confusion, we slipped away. I got off a few more shots and killed one of the drakes before fleeing back towards the meeting place.

I don't know if the Alfar survived or not, but wounded and unhorsed, they weren't going to be bothering us.

I met with Redham quickly enough, and we waited nervously for Publius to show up. Sure enough, we soon saw him stealing through the trees towards us, and he dropped down, a bit breathless, next to us. Redham embraced him cheering, while I gave him a thump on the back, saying "welcome to our group of madmen, Publius. I think you'll fit in well.

We didn't come away with any loot, but it had been a good learning experience. We left towards Sandbrook with one last glance at the our unlikely saviors.

Making Sense of the Mystic

Red spread across my vision, my body became weightless.

Darkness took me and it felt like I was floating in limbo. Some force was trying to pull me onward, but the sound of several voices were calling me back. They grew in number and volume. Return, remain, never leave.

Each passing moment was stretched and warped, and the void around me began to feel heavy.

With a sound of rushing winds, the tempo of voices increased and I felt myself physically dragged back, and slammed back down into the earth. I had a body again, hands, face, eyes. When I opened mine, my vision was blurred, and my hearing muted. The objects around me soon slipped into focus... the crane, the water wheel, the bind stone, I was standing back in Sandbrook. And there was Piratejim standing before me. Sound returned, he was calling my name...



"Signus! Are you with us again, mate?" He was looking at me with concern, but I could tell that he himself was not feeling too steady. He was swaying, stripped to the waist and covered in blood, though I could see no wounds on him.

"What just happened? Did we get hit by some sort of teleporting spell? Wait, where's all our stuff?" For once Redham had no answers, but someone else was willing to supply one.

"You've both just experienced your first death," a voice said very matter of factly. A tall bearded old man wearing robes stepped forward from his overhang near the bind stone. "For those unfamiliar with how things work on Agon, it can be a bit shocking during the initial experience."

I was not buying the answer. "I'm sorry... but I don't think I heard you correctly. You're saying I just got killed? I don't feel dead." I whispered a joke about senile old folks to Redham.

"Uh, Signus, this is the local Councillor. He's the elder of Sandbrook. I'm surprised you haven't met him already. If he says we died, well then... somehow, we must have." Redham looked over at the Councillor and smiled apologetically.

The old man cleared his throat and continued, "Allow me to explain. Here on Agon, each warrior that swears himself in service here has his soul bound to the land at focus points, like this bind stone. When you are slain in battle, your soul returns here, and you are in a way, reborn." I raised an eyebrow, but the man continued. "It was originally a... ah... technology of sorts, developed by the Mirdain to try to hold back the Alfar. But alas, as war tends to go, it was quickly leaked to everyone else. Now we are fighting in a perpetual purgatory." He shook his head sadly. "People still age, and there are other ways to remove someone from the world for good, but it is not so simple as it once was. But there are limits. Only warriors are allowed to bind themselves here."

I gazed at the stone with suspicion. "That sounds like a very convoluted system. Why hasn't it been improved upon, or spread further?"

Piratejim raised his hand "Ah, I may be able to help with that. I can't speak for other bindstones, but this'n here looks like it was slapped together by the Chaldeans. Many of their secrets were lost when the Alfar broke their Empire. Perhaps no one else knows how to work it?" He looked over at the Councillor who gave an affirming nod.

"Yeah, I'm not buying this, at all. It was a teleport spell, wasn't it?" The old man grumbled and tugged his beard.

"Believe whatever you want, believe a flying hivekin the size of a dragon beamed you here for all I care. But you will keep coming back to this spot, so don't squander the gift." And with that the Councillor began to walk back to his little wooden shed by the road.

Piratejim put his hand on my shoulder and started leading me off to the vault to get some replacement gear. "Come on, let's get back out there. I've got a friend who wants some seasoned fighters to help him reclaim something from a band of centaurs. Perhaps we needed that loss, we were getting pretty full of ourselves..."

I just shrugged and continued on, trying to ignore the fact that my perception of reality had just been entirely shifted. Redham seemed to be accomplishing that with ease. Maybe some centaur hunting is exactly what I needed...

Catching Up

In the time since my first adventure, I had grown considerably more experienced in combat. Redham became a constant companion. Occasionally other adventurers joined us in our outings, but few stuck around.

I got a feel for this new land of Mercia. There were many settlements, but the main gathering points for all us conscripted fighters were Sandbrook, Monkfield, and The Heart of Eanna. They were small frontier towns, hastily set up with wooden walls, with inhabitants striving to keep the nasties at bay. In the middle of them all rose the great capital Fortress of the Human race on Agon, Sanguine.





I met many strangers there, including some of the other races who were allied with the Humans. There are the lithe dexterous Mirdain. They seem to mostly prefer to live in the woods, hunting with bows and worshiping their peculiar gods. I even heard rumor that those elven gods were in some way responsible for the creation of the hated Alfar. I dare not bring it up with the elves themselves, but I never entirely trusted them after hearing it.



Then there are the dwarves. Not many of them are seen outside their lands in the far north. They labor with a constant fervor, always building, according to a writ handed down by their own deity. Some do cast aside the dwarven lifestyle and seek out adventures, and they are hardy fighters.



Redham had taken up armor smithing, and I had taken up the study of magic. We were already both accomplished fighters, and needed something to do in our down time. Our wealth was growing steadily with our conquests against the nearby beasts. We hunted goblins, rebels, fire salamanders, lizard men, trolls, and even those undead that I once feared so greatly. They proved to be weaker even than the goblins! I admit now, I was getting quite big headed, envisioning myself signing up to a professional army soon, and Piratejim was lost in fantasies of being able to buy his boat. We began to laugh at both pain and danger. Redham did so quite literally. I still don't know if he's fully sane.



In full war kit, swaggering as we went, we set out from Sandbrook to some new location. Piratejim assured me that it was a place of great wealth, and that he was able to handle it by himself. "With the two of us, we might even make enough for me to buy a raft!"

We set out North West from Monkfield and crossed a river. A small mountain stood before us, and we had to do quite a bit of climbing. Finally at the summit, I looked down upon a derelict village built over the water, with an extensive bridge system. We had arrived in Darkmoore.





We climbed higher still, but to me all the buildings seemed abandoned. I voiced my concern to Redham, but he simply put a finger to his lips and motioned onward. I had learned to trust in his instinct by now. There at last over the next rise, were men and women in dark robes. They were chanting amongst themselves, performing dark rituals. I could feel some of the power surging from the area. 'Pah' I thought, 'they aren't even wearing armor. We've dealt with mages before.'

"Be careful with these, they're nastier than goblin shamans. Don't be afraid to take cover when you need to." Redham uttered these instructions while drawing his bow. I gritted my teeth and ran in with a warcry, holding my shield before me, and a freshly crafted swordaxe over my head.

A hooded mage spun around, leveled his staff at me, and all before me was set aflame. The heat was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. The air became heavy, burning my throat, and my armor became like a sweltering prison. Another blast knocked me off my feet. I tumbled behind a box and pulled a potion from my bag, drinking it eagerly. The heat and pain ebbed, but I was locked down by heavy fire. It was my goblin mistake all over again.

The steady twang of Redham's bow suddenly stopped and was replaced by his screams. "MY EYES! EVERYTHING IS WHITE! SIGNUS?!" I looked over to see him clawing at his helm, a woman in a black cowl standing over him cackling. I set aside my swordaxe and took a staff out, sending a ray of healing at Redham. He shook himself and then thrust his sword into the woman before him.

We fought on for a while longer, and each mage we felled carried a bag of rich with magical reagents and gold. But soon more and more acolytes began to run down at us from hidden higher levels. My supply of potions was running low, and I was scorched and battered. Redham wasn't in much better shape. "Come on Sig, we can drive them off!" He shouted to me. Steeling myself for one final rush I charged up the ramp at a cluster of them. Flames consumed my vision... I saw no more.

Many Meetings

"You look like you could use some lizard on a stick, I happen to have some extra here!"

It must have been the blood loss, but this statement didn't seem in any way odd to me. The stranger sat down beside me, and we ate together. The arrow was removed from my shoulder and with the help of the roasted lizard I was offered, surprisingly, it wasn't long before I felt better.

"Thanks for the help, I got in a little over my head there. What's your name?"

"Piratejim Redham, from Monkfield," he said smiling, gnawing on his meat. He must have seen the perplexed expression on my face, because before I could say anything he went on. "At least, that's what I call myself. I know, the name seems peculiar, but I hope to have a ship of my own one day and live out at sea. It's hard going, many want the same thing, but are willing to do more..unsavory things to achieve it faster."

Was he refering to the murderers I had heard of before? Redham helped me to my feet as I thanked him. "My name is Signus, I'm a new charge in Sandbrook. Thanks for the food, but I need to get back to killing goblins. It's why I'm here after all."

"Goblins? I know something better to hunt than that, and mayhaps we'll get some good treasure too." By now I was half convinced he was crazy, living some pirate fantasy with booty and scallywags and plank walking. "You don't look like a bad fighter, Signus, just a foolish one. But you'll learn. Follow me, to Buckleburry Ferry!"

A strange strange man. But still, I followed him.





Buckleburry wasn't marked anywhere on the map, nor indeed was that it's proper name, but that's how I've came to call it ever since. We ran north a ways along the coast, crossed the river via the ferry, and came to a hidden beach.






All scattered along the shore were hordes of the reanimated dead. The sight of those decaying soldiers froze my blood. I had never seen their like before. But thankfully, Redham led me on past them. We sneaked through the wood and came upon a camp of men. There was a sign nearby reading "Beware", in what looked like blood.

"Who are these folk?" I asked my guide, as we spied on a group of rough looking humans sitting about a campfire.

"Outlaws, murderers." Came a whispered reply as Redham pulled out a bow and began to knock an arrow. I had no reason to distrust this new friend, but I had no reason to trust him either; his sanity was still in question. Attacking a random group of men by surprise didn't feel right. My inhibitions disappeared when I heard a shout and great mocking laughter. The camp had found us out!

An arrow flew by me, as Redham desperately fired, trying to kill some of the outlaws before they could gather their weapons. I gripped my sword and charged out of the brush, only to be knocked back by a man in full metal armor. It was then that my greed for that bright armor overcame my cowardice. I closed in, and to my surprise the warrior fell quickly beneath my swings. The hunters and other outlaws however, proved to be more of a problem. They broke and ran in every direction, firing from hidden vantage points. We struggled on for hours, tracking them all down, and by the end of it, we both came away sore, wounded, but far wealthier than we had been.



As we rested, Redham said, "I think it's time we returned to Sandbrook, friend. This loot will make us savory targets to stronger warriors, and that is not a small number of people! We are not so high on the food chain, and not all murderers show themselves as openly as these did."

With that we took off back towards the ferry, once again crossing that dreaded beach of zombies. Only... now there weren't any zombies about. In our first passing we had seen new adventurers much like ourselves fighting them and stealing up the rusted pieces of armor. Now however we were greeted by a very different sight. The adventurers were fleeing, screaming in some cases, as a warband of men on horses and drakes tore down the beach, slicing apart anyone they could reach.

I watched in fascinated horror as the victims banded together and tried to resist the war machine that was plowing towards them. A few volleys of arrows and a short skirmish later, and they were fleeing again, but the adventurers had dropped one of their tormentors. Wounded and moaning, he clutched at the arrow in his chest while his wicked allies continued to harry the helpless adventurers.

With a fury I leaped from my hiding place and ran to the wounded murderer. I heard Redham hiss as he came up behind me. "He's an Alfar! An evil race bred beneath the earth! See you the blue color of his skin? Dispatch him quickly, before his friends return!" Agreeing, and remembering those other poor men, I stabbed my blade into his heart. His horrible scream echoed down the beach, and some of the marauders turned back to see me and Redham stripping their fallen man of his loot. Arrows and fireballs flew in our direction, as the other Alfar turned towards us, anger and vengeance shining in their eyes, and not the least, some humiliation too.

We fled.




Sprinting as much as I could laden with my treasures, we made it through the woods towards the ferry, but still our enemies pursued us. I took a fireball to the back, and Redham was ignoring an arrow that had hammered into his armor. Soon it became apparent that we'd have to get creative, or our adventures would be at an end. We turned from the ferry and dove into the river, swimming towards the bottom. Some arrows harmlessly slipped into the water around us, as we swam with the stream back towards Sandbrook. I held by breath as long as I dared, and when we surfaced again, the Alfar were gone.


Safe at last, we waded towards Sandbrook's shore and examined our riches. And though we'd seen some terrible things, we couldn't help but laugh at all that had passed.

Birth of a Warrior

All my life I had dreamed of adventure.

In my homeland I was deemed too young to wield a weapon. It was a peaceful place; fantasies of heroics and adventures were for fools. If there was fighting that needed to be done, the older men would do it. I was expected to remain sedentary do what I was told. Well, it was a good life. I loved my home, and the people around me, but I prepared for more. I trained with one of the old veterans, and he taught me enough about blades to keep me from stabbing myself. I appreciated him humoring me, and I listened to the great stories he'd tell me from his days out campaigning.

As time passed, I began to settle in and dreams of adventure were pushed aside for much more real concerns, like making sure the crops grow in properly, or settling down with someone in the village. I still trained, but not with much enthusiasm. I hadn't totally given up, but there really were just no adventures to be had. I'd looked.

But then the strangers came to town. They were seeking strong young fighters to defend Mercia, in a land called Agon. I was dimly aware of the place. It was across the sea and many people from our land had gone there ages ago to colonize it. I felt the hunger for adventure come to life inside me, as if it had never waned. Without much thought at all I agreed to travel with them. I said goodbye to my loved ones and joined the caravan of fellow adventurers. Eventually we took to the docks, and set sail for Agon.





My orders were to report to a town called Sandbrook. It was one of the many innocent towns under threat from a global goblin rebellion. Apparently the goblins were tired of being pushed around by the Orks and had seized control of their own lives. I can't say that I'm against that, but they weren't just harming Orks, but humans too. The veterans made them sound so simple and cowardly on the raft ride into Sandbrook that my nerves began to drift into the distance, like my lifelong home.

We anchored down next to an incomplete siege tower, oddly placed, and a quaint watermill. The place reminded me of my village. For a brief moment I felt homesick, but I had a job to do now, I'd finally get the adventure I craved.




With the standard issue blade I charged into the wild. Some of the men around town had told me to watch out for murderers, but I assumed at the time that they meant the goblins. I had a rough map of the area, and I knew where one of the lairs was supposed to be. I crept up quietly, not so overconfident as to forget my training. Soon, the vile critters came into sight. Fear begin to creep into my mind as I eyed their sharp blades.




I slipped inside their camp and found one of the goblins wandering off on his own, bow in one hand, scratching himself with the other. The whole camp had the musty stench of filth and decaying hide. Who had allowed them to set up like this?

I got fairly close to the lone goblin, but stopped. Did I really want to strike from the shadows like this? The stories I heard never spoke of heroes creeping through long grass, especially not for mere goblins. But before I could even stand up, the goblin spun and loosed and arrow right at me.

I jumped to my feet and charged at him, "For Mercia!" The goblin grunted, pulled out a sword and took a few steps back. My swing was weak, but on target, I cut into his chest. Immediately the goblin fled. Laughing I chased him, making swipes at his back. It was then that I felt the sharp stab of an arrow punching through my shoulder. I fell back and saw two more goblins firing at me, and a third circling around behind me, armed with a shield and dagger. I had allowed myself to be trapped. But I knew my story wouldn't end here.



I fled, feet faster than ever before. I had gone into this fight all wrong. The goblins gave chase; more arrows whistled over my head. But soon the commotion stopped. I turned back to see other new recruits charging into the camp, eager to fight. Not me, I kept running until blood loss made me weary. It was there, sitting outside the hastily erected walls of Sandbrook, that I met the mad pirate Redham.