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Post by TerraDave on Mar 28, 2006 9:56:29 GMT -5
Galen Dreams:
[shadow=red,left,300]A city of splendor, a city of glory, a city of fire, a city of evil….
…and a great maelstrom of lava…this is what you seek…[/shadow]
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Post by TerraDave on Mar 28, 2006 11:35:08 GMT -5
Galen: At the end of 715 AI you make the long journey back to your home land. The Peace and Hold Warders of your brotherhood know of your triumphs in the east from Sven, who had visited on his return. They are proud to see that you have fulfilled one prophecy, and weakened the evil wolf-kin that had been a plague for so long.
But they remain concerned about the ancient evil that is the Axe, and the plotting surrounding the gate and the key. The believe that not only is it crucial to destroy the Axe, but that a much greater danger remains until these evil schemes are put to rest.
What shall be done by the Brotherhood of War? Giants, dark elves and dark dwarves menace the Nordic lands, and there are few to spare. No, it is Galen’s destiny still. But what shall Galen do? His premonitions are considered, and the runes cast. It is clear, weal and woe if Galen returns to the Carpathians, woe alone if he remains.
Jobe: The Lord of Barovia. The last year has been a relatively peaceful for the Lord, his son Jergen, and for Transylvania. The peace negotiated with the King has held and the forces of darkness have been dealt more blows: allowing the Black Friars in to try the ‘Wolves has truly turned into a “Deal with the Devil” for Zolton the Shadow Lord and his allies. With Father Martin in the lead, coven members, vampires and other foul ones were driven from the earth by the Friars and the Knights Protector working with them.
Still, Transylvania remains Transylvania. The werewolves have become a menace again—if not as great as before—hunting around the edges of Barovia, perhaps looking for revenge. And peace is not without its tensions. The Magyars and Saxons feel the Rumani have too much influence in the Diet, the Rumani resent their still lowly status, and the gypsies remain despised (and patronized) by all. Ismark the Liberator (no longer the Lesser) remains a fire brand. Barovia is no stranger to these conflicts.
But when Jobe gets up in the morning, before he puts on his Cloak, he doesn’t worry about these things. Instead he looks across the mountains and thinks: I wonder what happened to Caldor? Boson and Elena, both went to live with nomads, in yurts. Who would have thought, yurts? And Galen, he is back with his own dwarves, with the Axe, wonder what their going to do with it? Castinus had the Axe, and smashed up the Key, but that was ages ago. Valinore, haven’t seen him in a while, he never visits.
But where’s Caldor?
Then Mircea knocks on the door, and it is back to being Lord of Barovia.
Caldor: You regret the death of so many of your companions, you hardly knew them, but they seemed so enthused, and many died so horribly. Yet, you sometimes feel that here, with Palifax, in this place of wonders, is where you should be, where you were meant to be…
Maybe it isn’t…
Viator: The mad emir wants you dead. Fortunately he is mad, and famously diverted. But it is not a good position to be in. Especially not in his palace (or is it his wing of the Sultan’s palace?). You have also begun to realize the nature of his madness is a true threat to your home-world of Terra Viejo. Perhaps to the whole Cosmos.
One other is said to have traveled here from Terra, challenged the emir, and lived. Or at least he lived, if not his companions. And it is rumored that he knows of a unique gate, one not affected by the strange rules of this place, that could return you to Terra.
Like you, he is also a “prisoner” in the emir’s palace. If only he was not so closely associated with the deranged elven quasi-deity Palifax. But your options are limited. His name is said to be Caldor.
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Post by Bingo on Mar 30, 2006 9:28:44 GMT -5
I wander the halls of the palace, careful to watch out for any that might try to make good on the Mad Emir's desire. I am, however, somewhat lost in my own thoughts. Years of study, countless tomes read, discovery of knowledge that would make most men quake in their boots and what is my reward? Instead of finding the great magicks of ancient Terra, I'm the unappreciated guest of a madman in a realm I am unable to escape from. Maybe this Caldor can be of some help, though convincing an elf to step out of his ivory tower may be a bit of a challenge. I make my way into the city maybe I'll find some useful trinket among the merchants of this fantastic city.
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Post by Andric on Mar 30, 2006 18:44:39 GMT -5
Approaching the nearest window, hands clasped behind him, brow furrowed to a point, Caldor reminisces.
"Emil, Milos, I remember your elvish faces as if it were yesterday, when we gleefully entered the fire plane to reunite with my mentor Pallifax, a figure still brobdingnagian in my memory. Naively, I had hoped to introduce you two to him in person on the other side of the portal, perhaps to meet with one of his cousins; however to my frightful dismay we were seized upon by a host of horrible creatures, who scattered us buckshot, then you were lost to the environment and to your underdeveloped wits..."
Caldor weeps openly and loudly for his fallen comrades. It is time for a walk.
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Post by galen on Mar 31, 2006 9:47:40 GMT -5
Galen has long ago learned to trust his dreams. While he is glad to be back amongst the other members of his order and other dwarves, he believes that there are no cities of evil or maelstroms of lava in his mountain homeland.
Galen will seek out the Peace Warder to tell him of his dream and seek guidance from the Order of War. He will tell members of his Order that he believes that the maelstrom of lava and city of which he dreamed may hold a clue how to destroy the axe or at least the next step in resolving this terrible evil. He will seek the Order’s guidance on where such a place might be.
Should the order not have any guidance for him, Galen is resolved to find this place on his own, if need be, and is determined to leave the mountain hold to find this city of which he has dreamed.
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Post by TerraDave on Mar 31, 2006 10:35:57 GMT -5
Galen The mystery of your dreams are yet to be solved. But events remind you that the Brotherhood of War is a lawful order. Your preparations—and the great and famous handiwork of your fellow Nordic dwarves—are complete. The powers of the Order have confirmed that whatever you do, it somehow involves the Forgotten Temple of Tharizdun and the strange gate
You are placed on a Viking trader headed south. How you hate travel by water. But you know that once you are over the sea, you can disembark and travel by pony along the banks of the Rhine until you reach Dussleberg, and then head east. Unless you seek to avoid the city altogether…
Caldor but so many…so many many more…they did lead you to Palifax…but to what purpose? Palifax remains a “special guest” in the inner court, where you are now banned. And this talk of moving him to a “minaret”, a place H’mans use to call prayer on Terra??…what purpose…
As you rouse yourself, you note the elaborate enbrassed grill on the window, on all the window’s that face the city. Then you hear a beggar at the gate, calling for alms in ignan, the rhythm of the voice echoing through the palace. You didn’t even realize you were that close to the outer gate, or the beggar’s voice has a remarkable resonance.
Viator As you set out to leave the palace for the strange and fantastic city around it you head to the outer courtyard, passing a surly efreeti and his fellow—part fire, part humanoid—guard. They throw out some curt questions without even expecting an answer, and don’t stop you. As you step outside, it somehow gets even hotter.
You stand in the outer courtyard. The gate to the city lies on the other side. It will also be guarded. And you only have a vague idea of the magic that shields this place, but there is certainly some. Maybe you can walk right out, a smallish (by local standards) humanoid that may be ignored. Or not.
You look up at the elaborate enbrassed grill the glints in the heat, covering the entire courtyard. It must be enchanted in some way, to cover the whole courtyard with so little support.
Then, very clearly, comes the sound of a beggar, calling for alms at the outer gate ahead of you. What nerve, he’ll be lucky the guards don’t incinerate him.
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Post by Andric on Apr 3, 2006 12:21:34 GMT -5
The passion of the ignan language can be heard even in the call for alms. Caldor tries to understand any details that the beggar is asking for, in specifics. Caldor then leaves his room in search of the beggar, in the hopes that he can analyze the social interaction between the beggar and the efreeti guards, from a polite yet noncommital distance. Caldor is an anthropologist -- a pyropologist?
Pallifax a 'special guest' in the inner court? He has survived on this plane a long time; he will certainly keep, until my random interests are sated.
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Post by Bingo on Apr 3, 2006 21:56:45 GMT -5
Overcome by morbid curiosity, I make my way across the outer courtyard, still contemplating my situation and this place. The magic that must shield this place must be ancient. I wonder if even the ancient elves harnessed such power back on my home and if so, what happened that could have caused the loss of such magnificent knowledge? Surely the secrets behind this magic can be found here, though am I willing to pay the price for such knowledge? Shaking myself free of the thoughts of payment I look toward the gate, the beggar and the guards. What harm can come from a small token of generosity to this beggar? Even in the most decadent, and often selfish, times of Rome the privileged would provide some small tidbit to the mob. However, this is far from Rome and I certainly don't know the customs. I watch, listening carefully to the beggar and the guards if they decide to speak before passing judgment. I try not to act too interested, I don't want to draw any more attention to myself.
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Post by TerraDave on Apr 4, 2006 11:30:16 GMT -5
Galen With your fleet footed steppe pony you are able to reach Dussleberg in a week. You have little trouble on the way, though are thankful for the Firewolf cloak, as it seems to make encounters all the easier. When you made a journey like this on foot all those years ago, you were lucky to be treated like one of the Lost. A truly contemptible position to be in.
You approach the gates, and hear the familiar sound of hammer on anvil. You remember this part of the city from before. There will be dwarves here as well. Then as you ride past the guards, something happens that stuns you. Who would think this city has more surprises?
Father Martin, the Black Friar who the Firewolves brought back from the Danube Delta, and who later encouraged you and the rest to be tried by the Holy Church, that Father Martin is standing before you, calling your name. He seems pleased to see you.
Caldor: you make your way towards the sound of the beggar through the labyrinth like palace. Perhaps it is your keen hearing, perhaps your skill in tracking, or maybe it is the call itself. Eventually you find a open window, covered with that gilt, through which you can see the beggar and the two great Efreeti (a kind of fire genie that seem to be prolific here) between him and the main entrance to the palace.
Viator: You cross the courtyard. The main gate lies open before you. You see the disheveled beggar, and the backs of the two Efreeti
the beggar and the guards: The beggar, a humanoid covered in old robes with worm eaten boots and a kind of turban that has seen better days, gets no alms, but somehow convinces the guards that he is an old beggar and means no harm. And he does seem convincing. Then he is on his way, his call echoing behind him.
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Post by Andric on Apr 4, 2006 13:48:00 GMT -5
If the window is large enough for me to climb through, I will suddenly climb through the window and, with an instant utterance, cast 'feather fall' to decsend downwards along the side of the building, gently floating like a feather to the ground level outside. I would like to get a closer look at the the beggar, if possible.
If the window is too small to fit me, then I will try to find the exit from the maze-like building I am in.
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Post by galen on Apr 6, 2006 15:05:24 GMT -5
Galen is not quite as pleased to see Father Martin, as Father Martin is to see Galen. Nevertheless, Galen, deciding it would be unseemly to try to ignore Martin, strides forward to meet him.
"Greetings, Father Martin. It is strange and peculiar coincidence that we should meet again, here in Dussleberg. Or pehaps a greater will is at work, guiding us both. What business brings you here?"
For his part, Galen does not entirely trust Father Martin. He will also try to *sense motive* when talking with him. Galen is also somewhat guarded and is careful not to disclose any details of his own mission, purpose in the city, or of his dreams, to Father Martin.
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Post by Bingo on Apr 6, 2006 16:53:53 GMT -5
I approach the outer gate, watching the beggar move down the street, but also paying attention to the Efreeti guards.
(Ignan)"I wish to give to that beggar, may I pass through the gates?"
I await the guards answer, not wishing to assume that I am free to come and go as I please. I focus on the details of my quarters in the palace and keep the words for teleport in mind, should I need to make a quick escape.
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Post by TerraDave on Apr 7, 2006 9:27:08 GMT -5
Galen: The friar, perhaps doing a better job at Sense Motive then you—he is a Black Friar after all—clearly recognizes your (characteristic) stand offish demeanor. He seems to have no ill-will.
“Yes, you must be shocked to see me. It is not a coincidence, I knew you were coming from my regular commune.
“Members of my sister order here of course remember you and your colleagues. They speak of you with respect. There attitude towards Lars is somewhat less generous, but they regretted to here of his passing fighting evil. They knew not what to think of Jocko being Lord of Barovia.
“I am here pursuing the remnants of the coven led by Konstanz Brandt. We have had some success, but this city is a political one, and that limits even our power to search in high places. Still, it was clearly her to which the Wurstmeister was to give the key and she ordered his subsequent death when he failed to deliver.
“Some coven members clearly had knowledge of Azoruth and his temple. And over the years some sort of new force emerged to drive this search. Not the normal diabolist or demonologist, though many were enlisted. Something to do with the four elements. We also know that her coven was not only working with the one in Transylvania but others as well. But these covens are careful with information and good at keeping there secrets. In spite of our best efforts.”
He offers some more pleasantries and prepares to leave.
Caldor The window is quite large. But the enbrassed grill you had been looking at before that covers all the windows that face the city—as you had already noted—prevents you, or even a mouse, from taking a leap. You begin wandering, but it is not easy to find your way to the outer courtyard. You find yourself by an immense hookah designed for 13 biggish creatures (with 5 current users) when the sound of the beggar can no longer be heard.
Viator You are uncharacteristicly diplomatic (roll 17), but its not enough. The two efreeti, each with a huge scimitar, move to block any exit and let you know that you are not going anywhere. The sound of the beggar fades in the distance.
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Post by Bingo on Apr 7, 2006 22:10:54 GMT -5
Somewhat disappointed, though not terribly surprised, I bow to the guards and make my way back to the palace. I guess I won't be leaving by the front gate Once back inside the palace, I resume my wandering of the halls. I listen for any tidbits of interesting conversation, particularly about the Emir or the elven associate of Palifax. Again I try my best to appear nondescript.
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Post by Andric on Apr 9, 2006 16:06:22 GMT -5
My wandering pace slows to a meander as I approach the immense hookah. Not knowing the rules of etiquette for an efreeti hookah parlor, I scan the room for a maître'd or a majordomo. I am hoping to speak with someone, who can help me indulge in some smoking. I am intrigued with the intercourse between air and fire within the hookah, and within the efreeti themselves.
I am not yet entering the parlor, only standing at the entryway in the hopes that someone will meet my glance and welcome me in.
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