Messages

31

Roleplaying / Re: The Tale of Barrett Brine

« on: May 01, 2020, 11:30:26 PM »

Four days ago

Barrett wiped some blood off of his cutlass onto the cloak of a dead soldier. He wore the tabard of the Madinan Aegis. This was the unit Barrett's Privateers tore right through. Though thrice outnumbered the Marines put them to flight and would have routed them but for a swift counter attack by the Tempest Crusaders, that forced them to withdraw. Another pyrrhic victory for those hunting Barrett Brine.

"Anything to report Smee?" Barrett asked.

"We've heard rumors that the Tempest Crusaders have deserted. Their commander was spotted alone, or so the locals claim," he said, "The other unit has withdrawn to Bberentaur. Shall we set sail for Astrum?"

"Nonsense!" Barrett retorted, "I'll not let a single raider return in fighting shape if I can help it. We'll show Solomon and the rest of them what's what!"

32

Roleplaying / Re: The Tale of Barrett Brine

« on: April 30, 2020, 06:05:59 AM »

Then…

Solomon strolled into the hall, dismissing his retune as he did. Barrett, still chewing a mouthful of salted bread, stood up from his seat and gave a lackadaisical bow.

“As you were,” said Solomon.

Barrett was already returning to his bench before Solomon had even finished speaking. He settled in bow-legged and adjusted his codpiece.

“Pleased to be making your acquaintance Navarch,” Barrett said, “fine palace you’ve got.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replied, “may I offer you some wine?”

“Brought something of my own,” Barrett replied. He popped his foot onto his knee, rolled back the leg of his breeches and pulled a flask out of the wooden limb’s fake calf.

“The finest D’haran rum,” Barrett said.

He took a swig and offered some to the Navarch who declined, his eyes narrowing. Barrett shrugged, drank again and took another mouthful of salted bread, getting crumbs all over his tunic.

“Oh, best get this business out of the way first,” Barrett said as he heaved the coins onto the table. The heavy sacks landed with a deafening thud, and Solomon could swear he heard the table crack.

“There’s three thousand give or take,” He said.

“Excellent,” replied Solomon. He gestured to a servant who retrieved the gold and trudged away.

More servants brought in food and drink. Forgetting his earlier decline Barrett took some wine with his rum. He ate in great big mouthfuls, and apparently was not yet acquainted with forks, for he ate right off the tip of a knife or with his bare hands, licking his fingers after each bite. The Navarch’s nose curled but he restrained himself. Borish as he was this man had done great services for Tol Goldora in her hour of need. He was one of the first to reach the ramparts of Golden Farrow, and he’d just secured for them the treasure of Darfix.

In no time Barrett was yammering on about his adventures.

“So, I escaped from Malaise and got the treasure, but then things got hairy. On the one hand I had monsters coming in from Under Darfix, on the other his bandit gang holding the city. So, we took to the rooftops just on the border you see and watched just for the right time to give one the slip and engage the other. The men were tense we’d had a few deserters already but the rest were made of sterner stuff.
   It was my marines against his brigands. They were practically orcs themselves really, you’d barely see a difference, but we cut through em like paper we did! Malaise got away though, who knows where to. I’d have hunted after him but we had the monster horde bearing down on us so we sailed clear out of Darfix harbor and rode the currents home.”

“Quite an adventure,” said Solomon, and indeed the tale had been the best part of the audience so far “well Sir Barrett I have a proposition for you,”

The statement caught Barrett in the midst of guzzling wine. He held up a finger swallowed quickly and coughed.

“You know what they say about mixing your booze?” he asked.

The Navarch shook his head.

“It’s loads of fun and we should all do it!” Barrett joked.

“Indeed, now as I was-“

“Sorry your highness what was the question?” Barrett asked.

“I have a proposition for you,” He repeated, “I’m wondering if you’d like to lead a raid.”

Barrett grinned.

“Navarch you’ve just named my life’s calling; I’d consider it a privilege to carry Tol’s banner far into the north and show the rogue-landers what for”

“Excellent,” said Solomon smiling for the first time since dinner stared, “In that case you may expect a marshalship in the near future. Farewell Sir Barrett as much as I’ve enjoyed this visit, I have much to attend to. The tournament will be starting soon.”

Barrett stood up.

“Ah right, that. I’ll be fighting in it,” he announced.

“Then I wish you luck,”

Barrett extended his hand. Solomon hesitated a moment before clasping it firmly. The two men peered into each other’s eyes and smiled.

Now…

Barrett rolled over and groaned from the sharp pain in his ribs. He thumbed the freshly stitched wound gently. ‘Another scar for the collection’ he thought.

“Smee!” He cried, “what’s happened I need a report!”

The former scout, now a scribe scurried into his tent.

“Praise the stars you’re awake at last my lord!” Smee exclaimed.

“I can’t believe those bastards sent an assassin after me!” he complained.

“Well you did insult the entire military council and challenged the Navarch to a duel…”

“Oh hogwash, I made an open challenge to all takers, it’s not like I challenged him personally, and they deserved it the hopper-arsed, pudding-headed, milk sots! Countermanding my orders mid-campaign! Stripping me of the marshalship without notice!”

“Well actually sir, I managed to find a copy of a letter. You’d crumpled it up to line your shoe and it was covered in rum, but it did in fact come from Stratcharch Hervis and he did in fact notify you of your demotion,” Smee explained.

“Bollocks! The craven should have told me to my face, and besides he never said I’d not be commanding the raid anymore.”

“I certainly don’t mean to imply that you may have acted rashly,” Smee assured.

“Good so what else has happened,”

“Well you’re now banned from the realm,” said Smee

“Obviously anything else? Where are the raiders now, how many mutinied with me?”

“Umm none sir,” Smee replied.

“Good, clearly all cowards, the lot of them. Wouldn’t have taken them if they’d begged me. They must have attacked by now, how’d my marines fare?”

“Well it was a most peculiar happenstance. Sir, you see when you defeated Malaise and his men on your last visit the locals were rather glad of it. Apparently, they’d been ruling the city like tyrants and well…”

“Yes?”

“They made you their chief,” he explained.

“Chief?”

“Yes Sir,”

“Chief of the roguelanders I’ll be damned,” Barrett chuckled.

“They fought alongside our troops during the raid and though we had to fall back I daresay we took the wind from their sails!” Smee announced.

“Excellent, get me my calico jacket and film my leg-flask,” said Barrett, “Let’s finish them off.”

33

Dwilight / Barrett Brine Goes Rogue

« on: April 25, 2020, 09:50:42 AM »

Oh man this is one of the most epic dramas ever to play out for one of my characters. When I first conceived of the character of Barrett Brine he was intended to essentially be a pirate. It's fitting that right now his flag is officially a skull and cross bones.

For a little background:

Navarch Solomon of Tol Goldora offered Barrett the chance to lead a raid in Northern Dwilight, which he enthusiastically accepted. Briefly he was named marshal for this. Later however his marshalship was revoked, which I actually hadn't noticed due to being busy on my end (I'll roleplay that Barrett spilled rum all over the letter). Still they never officially told him he wasn't leading the raid anymore.

Struggle ensued when his ideas for how the mission ought to be conducted conflicted with the marshal's. Being true to his nature, Barrett was not about to defer to some other authority when it came to his expertise. So he insulted the marshal and essentially mutinied. He resigned from the army, declaring he'd be conducting his own raid and invited the other raiders to join him. None did sadly.

The Navarch gave him a warning and asked him to recant all his insults and insubordination. Barrett responded by challenging all takers in the military council to a duel.

Now he's in the far north with all the other raiders hunting for him. He's been banned and stabbed by an infiltrator. Here's hoping he'll recover soon.

After spending so many years with characters like Turin and Sigurd who tend to be more calculating, playing a firebrand like Barrett has been a real treat, and I look forward to him going out in a blaze of glory... or perhaps not.

34

Roleplaying / Re: The Tale of Barrett Brine

« on: April 23, 2020, 06:08:33 PM »

Gylden Raiders incedent


Letter from Barrett Brine Erickson Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp
Message sent to Stratarch's Council (7 recipients) - just in
Council,

Dear gods what is this drivel? I was told WEEKS AGO that I would be commanding this expedition. No one bothered to write to me explicitly saying "we've changed our minds, we'll be taking over from here and commanding via quill". I'm just supposed to guess that this is your intention because you've changed the hierarchy around a bit? Now you whine that I should have known that you'd all be micro-managing from afar just because I wasn't marshal? This is on you all, not me.

I'll be gods damned if I'm to take orders from a bunch of base-court pudding-brained promise-breakers! Consider me a free-agent henceforth.

Barrett Brine Erickson
Knight of Golden Farrow

Report from Barrett Brine Erickson Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp
Message sent to Gylden Raiders (7 recipients) - just in
Raiders,

Allow me to lay out the situation.

Weeks ago, I was asked to lead this expedition. I laid out my plans and they were approved. I was told I would be the commander. Then at the eleventh hour the dottering cross-eyed milk-sots who run this operation decided to change marshals and neglected to tell me the marshal would henceforth be commanding the expedition via-pen and raven from the comfort of his soft feather bed. So imagine my surprise when I begin this expedition, reach our landing site then at the last minute am told I've been stripped of command in all but name.

Officially I am henceforth not commanding the Gylden Raiders. Instead I declare my own personal expedition and will be accepting any and all volunteers. If you seek adventure, glory, and riches under the leadership of the most prolific mariner Dwilight has ever seen, then meet me in Bberentaur. If you instead want to obey the whims of a pack of desk-jokeys who buggered up the last raid whilst I emerged victorious by all means stay with the Raiders.

Barrett Brine Erickson
Knight of Golden Farrow

Letter from Barrett Brine Erickson Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp
Message sent to Stratarch's Council (7 recipients) - just in

Navarch,

I climbed the battlements of Golden Farrow. I recovered the treasure of Darfix. I was named Gylded Champion.

I am beach-stormer and lich-slayer. Deck-rider and storm-chaser. I am undertaker to revnant’s  and trophy-maker to ice boars. I fish for sea monsters and hunt for roguelanders. I can out fight, out drink, out sail and out pillage any ten corsairs from Darfix to Springdale. Valkyria to Madina.

My wrath doesn’t fear yours.

If you or any of your subordinates want to make something of it I hope you’ll do yourselves the honor of putting your own sword behind your words rather than cowering behind the protection of the lawman, lest you be added to the long list of cravens who recoiled before the might of Barrett Brine.

 

Barrett Brine Erickson
Knight of Golden Farrow

35

Development / Pets for adventurers

« on: April 23, 2020, 08:44:10 AM »

This is an idea I've been playing around with. What if we made "pet" a special item type that provides a small bonus.

The first and most obvious one is a dog. The dog gives you a small bonus to your hunting and combat skills.

A crow gives you a bonus to your "adventurer" skill.

A cat gives you a bonus to spell-casting (since they can see in octarine)

This one might be a little much but a horse could give you a bonus to travel speed and combat.

An adventurer can have just one pet. Collecting them all and turning into a traveling petting zoo would be ridiculous. Maybe if we use the unique item code for pets they can also be named.

Now here's the tough part, your pet can die. Dogs and horses can be killed while hunting rogues. A crow can be killed by a predator while trying to find shinys for you. Finally when using a cat as a familiar for spellcasting there's a chance they'll become *ahem* part of the spell. Finally, any time a noble arrests an adventurer, they'll have the option to kill the adventurers's pet. Think of it. One day Johannes Wicker is just minding his own business then a mean noble beats him up and kills his dog. A few years and three recommendations later and he's back for revenge.

I think pets would provide a fun way to customize a little more. As long as their bonuses remain small there shouldn't be a risk of them seriously impacting gameplay.

36

General Talk / I've got a book out!

« on: April 13, 2020, 07:27:31 AM »

Hey folks,

I hope there's no rule against a bit of self promotion.

A book I co-wrote is now in pre-sales. It was a five year undertaking and I'm really excited to see it released. It's an urban fantasy inspired by the history, culture and legends of the Romani people, an ethnic group more commonly known as "Gypsies".

For more info we've got a facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/LastoftheMagi/

And if you're interested here's our amazon page:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086W2FPKR?ref_=pe_3052080_276849420&fbclid=IwAR1JINkddsxxgYfWMdXcRc3-BmJI3TDmkV3r8gtJDo-NCfStdt7CWEORWRU

37

Roleplaying / Re: The Tale of Barrett Brine

« on: March 10, 2020, 03:07:50 AM »

Barrett tipped his hat to the silver statue of Navarch Solomon Greybrook as he strolled towards the royal palace. He'd thrown on his best calico jacket for the occasion and had his brown-boots shined till they practically glowed. With each step of his confident strut two large pouches, slung over either shoulder jingled with the sound of coins. Around Barrett marched his famed privateers 19 survivors from his escapades in Darfix, and a handful of new recruits, holding up the rear.

At last they came to the gates of the royal palace. Two guards stepped forward.

"I have an official summons," Barrett announced holding out the Navarch's invitation letter.

"We've been informed my lord, but we cannot allow you or your men before the Navarch so armed," he explained.

"Well I'm sorry but my arms don't come off, just the foot and I don't think you'd like that," Barrett joked.

The guards remained stone-faced.

"Alright you sad sap here,"

Barrett let the two sacks slip to the ground. Then unbuckled his cutlass, handing it over and his crossbow. His men likewise surrendered their weapons to other sentries. In addition to his sword and bow, Caedfleda, the young captain of his company, handed over two daggers, followed by a bandolier of throwing knives, and at last some darts concealed in sheaths beneath his sleeves.

Satisfied, the guarded beckoned them inside. Barrett picked up the coins again and followed. Servants distributed bread and salt to the entire entourage then escorted the marines to one dining room, and Barrett to an antechamber where he waited for the Navarch.

38

Roleplaying / Re: The Tale of Barrett Brine

« on: March 03, 2020, 03:50:22 AM »

Barrett waved to the ships waiting off shore. In due course a landing craft paddled up to the docks filled with his bitter-faced men.

"Fear not comrades your captain yet lives!" he announced, the statement did not change their mood.

"We've been stranded here too long," said a tall tan-skinned bald man,

"Dear god are you men or kittens?" Barrett rebuked.

"We want mercenary pay or we're leaving," the marine retorted

"Fine! Have you lads forgotten where we are? This is Darfix, the golden city. It's treasures are ripe for the taking,"

Without a word the man lowered a plank onto the dock and one by one the troops stepped off. He then blew a whistle to call in the rest of the privateers.

Peasants scurried into the crumbling buildings as Barrett and crew strolled through the streets. They found the treasury building still intact and under the command of a bandit gang. A few of these brigands made feeble resistance but most fled.

At last Barrett stood before the vault, admiring the engraved iron door, dreaming of what lay on the other side. One of his men dragged before him a trembling little bald man.

"He says he can open the vault," said the marine.

"Yes, yes sir! That's how I've gotten on these years, whoever owns the place I'll open and close the vault for him," he rambled.

Barrett lifted the poor fellow by the shoulders, stared furiously into his eyes, and then said,

"Good to meet you my friend! What is your name?"

"Ch-Chalmers," he stammered.

"Well then Chalmers work your arts!"

The man drew a necklace out from under his shirt. On the chain were three keys. He inserted them one by one into various key holes, in a sequence Barrett couldn't quite keep track of. At last a very loud CLICK! signaled the vault was open.

Barrett took a torch and entered the cavernous room, his foot steps echoing through a space larger than some manor houses. He crept deeper and deeper, some of his troops following behind, tentatively, as if some monster could wait inside. Instead, in the very back corner, they found a pile of gold and silver. Normally such riches would have been dazzling, but they seemed minuscule in a room that must have once held ten times as much.

"That's it?" someone asked.

"It doesn't matter how much it is," Barrett announced, turning to his men with a grin on his face "This is the treasure of Darfix. Congratulations mates, we're all legends!"

39

Roleplaying / Re: The Tale of Barrett Brine

« on: February 28, 2020, 11:00:35 PM »

Barrett shook his head back and forth, trying to scratch his itching nose against the black sack over his head. His eyes adjusted to the dim light of the tunnel he was being held in. A bandit gang had converted the old storm drain system into a crude stronghold. Standing before him was the haggard face of his former soldier Malaise. He wore his grey hair long, and carried the weathered old crossbow he'd been issued in D'Hara a lifetime ago.

"We're's the treasure?"

"I spent it. Your mother's pricy but she's worth it," Barrett chided.

Malaise kicked him in the stomach.

"Oof! Heh! What's wrong old bean can't take a joke?"

Malaise stooped down getting closer to Barrett.

"You owe me," Malaise insisted, "you left me here to die. I could spend a year torturing you and and you wouldn't suffer half what I've been through. Face it I'm being more than fair."

"You would have left me here if you'd gotten the chance," Barrett countered.

Malaise pressed his crossbow against Barrett's boot.

"Your last escape attempt had me thinking I need to hobble you properly," He threatened.

"Don't you dare," Barrett challenged, his eyes narrowing.

Malaise squeesed the trigger arm and a bolt shot straight through Barrett's foot.

"BASTARD!" Barrett yelled in what Malaise assumed was pain.

"Think on it," Malaise said as he turned and walked away.

As soon as the ex-soldier's footsteps disappeared Barrett reached with his bound hands and plucked the arrow from his foot, without so much as a cringe. Checking to make sure no one was coming he slipped the boot off to check the damage. The bolt had left a hole clean through the wooden foot but the brass fixtures were untouched and those were the important parts. What I'd do to him if he'd caused real damage... Barrett thought.

He slipped the wooden foot off, which allowed him to easily remove the ropes from his legs. Then he set to work cutting through the bindings on his wrists using the head of the bolt.



To be continued...

40

Roleplaying / Re: The Tale of Barrett Brine

« on: February 26, 2020, 07:01:20 AM »

Three days ago...

Barrett and his famed privateers sailed into Boreal's Harbor and the great raider leapt off his ship with a spring in his step (both literally and metaphorically). He found the streets deserted. Word was that a small undead horde had been terrorizing the city of late. Sure enough shriveled forms began to shamble out from the warehouses and drainage tunnels.

"Form up!" Barrett yelled to his marines, and then he whispered to himself, "this time will be different."

No sooner had he said it then a fierce gale swept in from the sea. There was something strange about the breeze, it made Barrett's neck tingle and there was some faint smell he could not name but instinctively knew was wrong.

"Damn it, he muttered"

Crossbows twanged, bolts flew. With such a fierce wind blowing their first volley felled only four revenants. Their second volley did no better.

"Come on! Send those rotters back to their graves!" Barrett bellowed.

As the ghouls closed in aiming became easier. The Marine's third volley took down over a dozen foes. The survivors clambering over their remains, closing fast.

"Reload, faster!" Barrett ordered.

Drawing back their crossbow-strings one last time the marines loosed their last volley, then slung crossbows over their backs and drew their cutlasses. Barrett drew a blade of his own and moved to the front of the line.

"Those beasts are the last thing standing between us and the treasure! CHARGE!"

Blades cleaved into skulls, and slashed through limbs. The undead fought like wild beasts, leaping on their prey, raking the faces and necks of their enemies with razor sharp claws. For all the carnage the undead were losing, badly. For every marine they brought down two of their number returned to their natural state of still death.

"Victory!" Barrett cried prematurely, turning to his men. He saw their faces turn ashen and their fierce battle scowls melt into expressions of shear terror. Barrett turned back to where the undead had been. In the midst of the field stood a towering figure clad in black armor, wielding a great-sword. The being wore no helm revealing his gaunt face. Shrunken lips peeled back over ivory teeth and blackness filled the sockets where his eyes should have been with only pinpoints of white light in the center of the void.

The undead champion turned his blade so the hilt pointed up, revealing a violet gemstone in the pommel. A pale light glimmered in the talisman and a blast of wind shot towards the group. Barrett raised his buckler instinctively. The spell drained the heat from his bones, and even the sun seemed to dim. Barrett heard his men shouting in terror, their cries getting farther and farther away.

"Get back here you cowards!" he yelled over his shoulder, "WE HAVE HIM JUST STAND YOUR GROUND!"

It was no use. Barrett turned to find the champion had closed to within striking distance.

"You think I need them to flay an ugly sod like you?" Barrett taunted.

The lich was silent. He swung his blade and Barrett ducked beneath it. He launched himself forward, rolled and cut the champion's achilles tendon. The ghoul stumbled but remained upright. He swung again. This time Barrett caught the blade with his buckler and redirected it into the ground. He landed another hit on the revenants wrist, severing the left hand. One handed he tried to fight on, but he could scarcely lift his blade above the knees. Barrett side stepped a low jab and severed the undead's other hand.

"Enough games," Barrett mocked.

The champion just stared blankly. Barrett swung his cutlass, severing the undead's head at the neck. Without warning the body burst into a cloud of dust that reeked of grave dirt.

Coughing Barrett turned to search for his men. In the haze he spotted a figure with a crossbow drawn. Barrett waved.

"It's me, hold your fire!" he ordered.

"Oh I know it is," said a bitter voice.

As the dust settled Barrett could see that the man wore a drab grey cloak over rusted mail. He carried a battered crossbow with dry cracked wood and rusted metal fixtures.

"It's been a long time my lord,"

To be continued...

41

Dwilight / Re: Dwilight Meme Inc.

« on: January 07, 2020, 07:25:24 AM »

Barrett Brine shows up to the war like:

https://gfycat.com/flatcreativeinvisiblerail

42

Roleplaying / Re: Turin's return

« on: November 14, 2019, 12:57:24 AM »

It had been a clear night, one that would have afforded a glorious view of the Blood Stars, if they had been shining that is. As the dawn came dense clouds had rolled in to smother its feeble light. Turin reclined on his cot, tent flaps still open from a night spent contemplating not the Blood Stars but their conspicuous absence. His rasping breaths wheezed in his blood caked throat each one a labor to draw in.

He glanced at his sword leaning against the tent-post. If someone came to answer his challenges now it would be too late. Part of him longed to see Severina and Illyria one last time, but he'd rather they didn't see him like this, to remember him this way. He'd even dismissed his servants and healers, they were still sleeping in their tents.

The breaths came slower and slower. Each time it took longer for him to work up the strength to inhale again and each time he thought not to bother, to just let it all stop. 

117 years of life, and of that a century, give or take, dedicated to the stars. In spite of all that he wondered if he'd done all he could.

In the silence of the grey morning he heard voices, three familiar voices speaking in unison, "rest old friend, you have earned it."

Gasping, Turin's cracking voices managed to whisper, "Rowan... Boreal... Mathurin... thank you..."

He let out the last of his breath and just lay still, letting the darkness take him.

43

Development / Re: Religion and Region relation

« on: November 09, 2019, 07:11:19 AM »

If I remember correctly, there was a talk about making people join religion upon creating a character. I think that idea was a good starting point. I think there are few ways to encourage more people to join a religion.

1) Discourage staying as pagan: At the moment, your region becomes unhappy if your ruler believes in something else other than what the majority believes in. I'd go one step farther and make peasants despise their lord if the lord stays as a pagan despite the region converting to one of the established religions. Believing in another established religion may irk the peasants a bit but staying as a pagan should be discouraged.

2) Announce holiday or festival: Should boost region's productivity and morale but if the lord's religion and region's religion don't match, it becomes less effective or even worse - something bad might happen due to random religious incidents.

3) When a pagan lord gets appointed/elected to a region, peasants will become unhappy unless the lord joins a religion.

4) Religion in general should be easier to join. I think having a page where you can just select and join one of the established religions would be nice instead of hunting down a temple to do so.

I like these ideas. The paganism thing could potentially backfire with a region lord choosing to try and keep his region religion free. I'd suggest being a pagan lord also incurs a regular prestige penalty. I think the ability to join a religion on char-gen would be a good idea along the same lines as #4. The char-gen page should also tell you the major religions of the realm you join if it doesn't already (if it does I totally missed it last time).

We can also do more with existing mechanics to try and make religion more meaningful. Realms could implement strict laws that say no pagan may be a lord. They could also be sure to mention major religions in the realm descriptions for the char-gen page.

44

Development / Lemuria Rennaisance- Old Battlemaster

« on: November 09, 2019, 07:02:19 AM »

Hey so I participated in the poll and saw one of the leading options was to bring back a pre-2010 Battlemaster. That could be cool. I'd suggest a new gameworld, but running the old rules. Make the continent relatively small say 70 regions and allow everyone a bonus character to play there much like War Island.

Getting creative with the map layout could be cool. Just one idea, have a central sea like Dwilight but oriented North to South. In the middle you have two large islands with four or five regions each. One Island has a major city with sea lanes to several other regions including to the other Island, but also a rural region with a short sea lane to another rural so the island is subject to invasion. The other island has two townslands connected to a smaller number of sea lanes and a central city so easier to defend but harder to use to conquer other lands. Then on the outer sea of this continent you have two additional smaller islands with sea lanes. These islands have a rural or maybe townsland labeled "such and such harbor" and then their other region is a city or stronghold. That could make for a very dynamic play environment.

45

Roleplaying / Re: Turin's return

« on: October 29, 2019, 08:53:50 AM »

They say a proper duel should be fought at dawn, but I could be dead by dawn, Turin thought as he gazed at the Western sky. The sun dipped beneath the horizon and at last the great zealot could see his beloved Holy Blood Stars. He breathed deep as he gazed upon them. One last look, the thought, then I will be with you. I’m coming Boreal, Rowan all you heroes and martyrs of old.

Out of the corner of Turin’s eye a glare disturbed his reflection, there could be no doubt in his mind what he saw. This was aura of a living legend. He’d seen it in years past shining across the battlefield like a beacon. This was the victor of innumerable tournaments. How many mighty knights had been slain by his hand in duels such as this? The name of this ancient warrior struck fear in the hearts of foes and admirers alike, Karibash ka Habb.

Behind the great swordsmen marched a troupe of warriors eager to see their master in action. Karibash sneered at Turin upon approach.

“Well if it isn’t the sniveling whelp Turin, seems your fear of ignominy has finally overcome your fear of death,” he mocked.

“Lord Karibash, your hatred is as constant as the light of the Blood Stars, it warms my heart,” Turin replied.

He drew his sword. He thought he’d abandoned its ways years ago when he took up the cloth, he’d even broken if off at the hilt to signify his dedication to the church, but circumstances had changed. The smiths of Astrum forged it anew and now he was ready to do battle. One last time, Turin thought. Karibash drew his sword as well.

“Well then, shall we have at it or do you need someone to drop a mace,” Karibash taunted.

“I think that’s proper,” Turin replied

“Captain bring forth a mace!” Karibash bellowed.

His man strode forward. He held the weapon aloft and let if fall. Turin’s foe seemed to be upon him the same instant he heard sound of the mace hitting the ground. Turin staggered backwards, his sword flailing wildly to deflect Karibash’s many deadly blows. In the course of the melee he lost his balance and dropped to one knee, his blade still held aloft.

“Get up weakling!” Karibash demanded.

Turin rose, he had scarcely a moment to gain his footing before Karibash was upon him again. This time he side stepped. Karibash deftly pivoted. Now Turin could see the Bloodstars over his foe’s shoulder. He breathed deep again and a great calm washed over him.

Karibash lunged again and their blades clashed, but this time both found flesh. Karibash’s sword grazed Turin’s thigh, and as it did Turin brought his own blade down on Karibash’s wrist, severing it in twain. Hand and sword clattered to the ground in a spray of blood. Without a cry, without even a wince Karibash reached for his sword with his left hand, but Turin stomped on the weapon so it could not be recovered. He hesitated a moment, the tip of his sword aimed at Karibash’s throat.

“Do it you coward!” Karibash shouted, “you are only killing a man!”

Turin clenched the hillt of his sword ever tighter until his hand shook, then with a cry of rage he plunged the blade into Karibash’s heart. The blood spatter mixed with his crimson robes. He panted unable to believe what had just happened. Turin looked to the Torens, fearing they might slay him in turn.

“No matter,” their captain said.

Turin stared back, puzzled

“do you not understand his last words?”

Turin shook his head.

“You have only slayed Karibash the man, Karibash the legend, the god, lives on,” the Captain explained.

And with that the troupe gathered up the body of their fallen leader, leaving Turin to watch, bewildered and lost.