Author Topic: Season 3 Event 1  (Read 248 times)

derekjones

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Season 3 Event 1
« on: March 06, 2017, 02:18:49 PM »
I am going home.

It's a weird feeling, claiming this distant land as my home. Sure, I have resettled along with my parents in New Haven. We are grateful to the people of Thistlewood for taking us in, and providing us with the opportunity to rebuild our lives in their land. However, as much as we have been welcomed by the people of Thistlewood, it is the harsh masters of Hartsbury that constantly remind us that we are a displaced people, and unwelcome outside the Terran Valley. New Haven will never be our home. 

Like many of my peers, I have been told the tales of life within the Terran Valley before the horror of the Dark Ones invaded our lands from the Outer Planes. Within months, nearly every kingdom within the valley had fallen by coercion or force to those dark monstrosities!

My family fled from our ancestral lands around the Sword Tower. The impossibly wealthy merchant lords of Vornir had just surrendered their massive city to the Dark Ones, and with very few places left within the valley to retreat, the Dwarves of Kjeldor had begun warning that they were about to close their great iron gates. This would cut off the Terran Valley from the rest of Avalon, and trap anyone still inside the valley with the evil spreading within.

I was just a boy when my family fled, I cannot really remember what life was like before New Haven. I had been a man for several years when those Dwarven gates mysteriously opened, allowing the western light to fall upon the Terran Valley soil for the first time in 22 years. Like so many other, my father feared that the Dark Ones had found a way to break the enchantments that kept the gate closed. I had no such fear, however. I was excited to see my homeland once more, even if it meant having to face the monsters of legend themselves!

I had eagerly joined the expeditionary force created by the High Council. I was lucky enough to be assigned to the scout unit lead by Dax Terlotta. I was there when we discovered the ruins of the small settlement just beyond the gates of Kjeldor. I shed blood and sweat while working alongside my fellow Terrans as we built Varos, and welcomed the first adventurers to defend it. I loved every bit of the pain, sleepless nights, and constant worry that the Dark Ones would find us and end our return.

It finally happened. Varos was discovered, and we fought. I am so proud of the women and men that I fought along side. We gave the monsters everything we had. The adventurers, even with their granted power and magical artifacts, fell one by one to the Lord of the Dark Ones. We had no chance, the great master of the Dark Ones is an immense creature of myth, a dragon of tarnished silver. Once again, we were given the choice to flee and live, or remain within the valley and die.

I chose to retreat back to New Haven, where I could plan and perhaps gain a new chance to return. This time, I would be ready.

The time has come. News from another land beyond Thistlewood has reached us, word is that the foul dragon master of the Dark Ones has been trapped on another plane, rendered impotent. The great gates of Kjeldor are opening once again!

I am going home.

Yarlis Tsung
5787 Q.E.
« Last Edit: March 07, 2017, 10:27:51 AM by derekjones »

derekjones

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Re: Season 3 Event 1
« Reply #1 on: March 27, 2017, 03:57:35 PM »
The sands of the great desert shift with the gathering wind. A great storm begins to build overhead causing the winds to whip and stir the desert sand into a harsh cloud of abrasive pain. The sky turns orange with fire, smoke erupts from the very air as it burns. Hours pass, the smoke steadily grows before eventually being pushed aside from a massive unseen force as the roots of a gigantic land mass erupt from an expanding planar gate.

The sky above the desert turns black with foul smoke and gasses, the ground below rumbles under the strain of the otherworldly land breaching into Tyrra. Curiously, the shifting sands of the desert begin to part, revealing the top of a massive stone ziggurat hidden deep within the earth. Had the land mass not caused such a violent disruption of the desert sands, the ziggurat would have remained buried.

Days, the transition of the massive land mass takes days to complete. The floating land is not left unscathed, however, a large chunk of the land breaks off and hurdles down towards Tyrra at an incredible speed, crashing into a far away land to the south. Whatever land lies in that area is surely devastated by the event. The remaining chunk of land mass begins to split on the third day of the transition. Massive boulders, trees, and bodies litter the desert from the destruction up above. These chunks of land mass do not hurdle towards Tyrra, however. The split pieces of land flow steadily into our plane and float in the air after completely transitioning.

In the end, there remain five broken shards of the land mass. One shard is much larger than the other four, though all of them are of different sizes. The islands remain floating in the air, unmoving, waiting.

The great ziggurat is now half uncovered from its sandy prison, it shines like hellish beacon among the blood red desert sand. The stone appears to contain a metal that gives the structure an otherworldly reflective quality as if staring into the structure for too long would reveal sights best left unseen. From deep within the stone, a glow begins to reveal etchings that cover the entire structure. Ancient writings that have not been seen in the valley for many millennia are once again on display at the great ziggurat.

Two figures, one a black cloaked Human man, the other a tall Elf with eyes that burn like white hot coal stand upon a cliff of black obsidian that overlooks the Red Desert. Both of the men spend several minutes studying the floating islands and the ziggurat.

"What is that?" says the Elf.

"This is very bad." replies the Human.

"But, what is it?" asks the Elf again.

"Those islands are what's left of Elimar, it's come to the valley. That ziggurat is something else, something from a time best forgotten. That the island seems to have uncovered the ziggurat and that the ziggurat has responded is VERY bad." says the Human.

"Should we investigate?" asks the Elf.

"I can't, I'm being watched. You'll have to keep an eye on it for me." says the Human.

"Alright, what if there's trouble?" asks the Elf.

"Just don't let the adventurers near it, they aren't ready, and we don't know enough." replies the Human.

An echoing hum reverberates through the canyon where the Elf and Human have gathered. Slowly, and gaining speed, the islands begin to move as one across the desert sky towards the Obsidian Mountains.

"That's even worse." Says the Human before his form dissolves into nothingness.

"Of course, he always sticks me with the dangerous jobs." says the Elf before exploding into a great fiery phoenix and launching himself into the sky towards the oncoming floating islands.

derekjones

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Re: Season 3 Event 1
« Reply #2 on: March 28, 2017, 01:16:02 PM »
"Yeah, that one is dead too." Says the Human in a black cloak. He sits uncomfortably in the wooden chair; his eyes dart around the room looking for hidden threats.

The Leaky Goblet bustles with anticipation for the arrival of the adventurers. It has been quite a while since a Market Fair has been held here. Despite the preparations being made, a wide berth is given to the two men meeting at a simple wooden table.

The Elf with the white hot eyes nods. "We will have to find a replacement for that Mantle as well."

"What about Actunak? Did you find the cause of the disturbance? Is it salvageable?" Asks the Human.

"It's a problem, the Drakes there have mostly left it behind and there is just not enough power to keep it burning. Again, another Mantle that needs filled." The Elf pauses. "Are you sure that you cannot do anything about it? You have his spirit, can't you use it to rekindle the fire?"

"No, it does not work that way. The Mantle was abandoned, I would need to take it up in order to fix Actunak." The Human replies.

A few quiet moments pass. The tavern rings with the crash of plates and glasses.

The Human sighs heavily. "The champions are gone, and the Mantles lie empty. The magic here will only remain stable for so long and I fear that we have waited too long."

"Nonsense." Chides the Elf. "Plenty of creatures are after the Mantles. Even if we cannot find suitable champions to fill them, they WILL be filled. Besides, the tower is rebuilding itself even with him gone."

"Well, that's my fear! With the arrival of that island, who knows what players are in the game now! And the ziggurat... it bothers me. I know I have seen something about a ziggurat in the Red Desert before, I just cannot remember where the information went."

The Elf leans in close, to guard his next few words carefully. "My immediate concern is with Selesthiel and the Mausoleum, those adventurers were supposed to rescue them. Now they're stuck in that plane with The Corrupted. Can their mantles be claimed? Do we have to break them out? We cannot just let those places spill their contents all over the unsuspecting people that will be arriving through Kjeldor in the next few months, they'll be slaughtered!"

The Human brings his mug of mead to his lips and takes a long draw from it. "Ash, I told you this was not going to be easy."