Were am I. Am I back home. How did I get here? The last thing I remember was seeing the cleric casting a spell. The cleric's spell must have killed me. This must be the after life. I must say it is very peaceful here and beautiful. I would love to stay here but I feel something pulling me back. What am i doing I need to get back. I can not leave my comrade like this. I owe it to them to find a way back. What the hell it is getting dark and what is this weight what in Pelor's name is happening.
The light is returning, but it is haze. Am I back. Yes I see everyone. It looks like no time has passed. Is this real. It must be real. I can feel pain running though my entire body, but I can feel my strength coming back. Is that the cleric? It is. He will die.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Ragnarr: Post Miracle
It's a stupid thing to say that no one can know all of Pelor's plan. He's a god. I'm not a god. So of course he's going to have a plan that's bigger than anything I'd ever be able to fit in my brain.
The best we can get is glimpses. The smallest of fragments of the whole. A drop in the huge bloody keg of divine knowledge. And even a glimpse is enough to turn your whole damn life around, to make you see the world and your place in it like you've never seen it before. Brighter, like your whole life you've been living under a could and you suddenly see the sun shine on everything for the first time.
But, even with the hugeness of the plans of the gods, they still have the patience, the time, the mind to look down on the prayers of one small, insignificant follower. Even a bastard who cusses too much, drinks too much, and hardly makes a good bloody role model for other bastards wanting to follow in Pelor's path.
That's what paladins are for, I suppose. To be the role model. Bastards like me are just around to drag their feet back to the ground when they need it.
Or to get their soul back into their body when it's just been ripped out by some bloody necromancer.
And all Pelor asked was a little piece of my soul in return.
There's plenty of people, I think, who would tell you that they'd give up part of their soul for something they believed in, for the greater good of the world. But there are very, very few people who will ever have the chance to do it. The chance to prove that no matter how many lies you've told, no matter how many drinks you've had, or whores you've underpaid or debts you've skipped town on, that you're still, basically, a decent person.
And I suppose that's what I am. A decent person.
Through Pelor's light, I might not be half bad.
And one more Paladin gets to keep standing up, keep being that role model that maybe, just maybe, other little boys can look up to and think "Some day, I'd like to be like him. Some day, I'd like to serve Pelor."
It's all part of the plan.
And I, unworthy bastard that I am, get to be a part of it.
The best we can get is glimpses. The smallest of fragments of the whole. A drop in the huge bloody keg of divine knowledge. And even a glimpse is enough to turn your whole damn life around, to make you see the world and your place in it like you've never seen it before. Brighter, like your whole life you've been living under a could and you suddenly see the sun shine on everything for the first time.
But, even with the hugeness of the plans of the gods, they still have the patience, the time, the mind to look down on the prayers of one small, insignificant follower. Even a bastard who cusses too much, drinks too much, and hardly makes a good bloody role model for other bastards wanting to follow in Pelor's path.
That's what paladins are for, I suppose. To be the role model. Bastards like me are just around to drag their feet back to the ground when they need it.
Or to get their soul back into their body when it's just been ripped out by some bloody necromancer.
And all Pelor asked was a little piece of my soul in return.
There's plenty of people, I think, who would tell you that they'd give up part of their soul for something they believed in, for the greater good of the world. But there are very, very few people who will ever have the chance to do it. The chance to prove that no matter how many lies you've told, no matter how many drinks you've had, or whores you've underpaid or debts you've skipped town on, that you're still, basically, a decent person.
And I suppose that's what I am. A decent person.
Through Pelor's light, I might not be half bad.
And one more Paladin gets to keep standing up, keep being that role model that maybe, just maybe, other little boys can look up to and think "Some day, I'd like to be like him. Some day, I'd like to serve Pelor."
It's all part of the plan.
And I, unworthy bastard that I am, get to be a part of it.
Journal of Crunch, Day 284-288
-day 284:
After much work and justifications, a revised holy symbol was created and its sanctification completed. Arkadesh gave approval that it is suitably non-offensive. Plans were made for our journey to the next fortress of the dread aboleths.
Conclusions: One should always seek to carve your own symbology, and not to borrow directly from other symbologies.
-day 285:
We have traveled a great distance by wind, and are camping in the vine-tangled ruins of a mountain town. Some of the others have been here before, and fought a large, roving, meat-eating foliage on this site. The vines in the ruins also devour organic matter. There is a dragon living nearby as well, but it was decided not to seek its recruitment.
Conclusions: Wariness of trees in this area is recommended.
-day 286:
We have traveled a great distance by wind, and are camping in an orcish seaport. Elements of the local orc population appear to be somewhat unscrupulous; they must be regarded with guarded optimism.
Conclusions: Pending.
-day 287:
We have traveled a fair distance by wind, and are camping in Khemhet, a city of Arkadesh's homeland. Arkadesh has been kind enough to permit me to follow him about as he roamed the city. He explained the general operations of the city, including history, societial structures, and defense. The local people do not engage their emotions as previously observed in organics; perhaps this is why Arkadesh had difficulty with my belief system.
Sztuczka provided pleasant musical entertainment for our residing tavern, and so our stay was complementary. Sztuczka is very different from other gnomes encountered; primarily, she has not attempted to dismantle me in the name of science or magic. This is unusual, though not impossible. However, it has occurred to me that Sztuczka is still very much a tinker, but not of machines. She is a Tinker of Emotions. She can invoke great levels of sadness and joy in her audience, inspire a variety of emotional states, and repair hateful or deceitful moods.
Conclusions: Arkadesh's land is neat, and has provided new insight on organic emotional perceptions. Sztuczka's powers over the emotion spectrum are to be recognized and respected.
-day 288:
We have travelled a fair distance by wind, and are camping on top of an underwater reef. Many fish and aquatic organics with self-illuminative abilities were present during the night watch, with a variety of different colors and shapes. Very beautiful. Have never camped underwater before now.
Conclusions: The oceans of this plane are amazing, andthis u I must seek to camp here more often.
After much work and justifications, a revised holy symbol was created and its sanctification completed. Arkadesh gave approval that it is suitably non-offensive. Plans were made for our journey to the next fortress of the dread aboleths.
Conclusions: One should always seek to carve your own symbology, and not to borrow directly from other symbologies.
-day 285:
We have traveled a great distance by wind, and are camping in the vine-tangled ruins of a mountain town. Some of the others have been here before, and fought a large, roving, meat-eating foliage on this site. The vines in the ruins also devour organic matter. There is a dragon living nearby as well, but it was decided not to seek its recruitment.
Conclusions: Wariness of trees in this area is recommended.
-day 286:
We have traveled a great distance by wind, and are camping in an orcish seaport. Elements of the local orc population appear to be somewhat unscrupulous; they must be regarded with guarded optimism.
Conclusions: Pending.
-day 287:
We have traveled a fair distance by wind, and are camping in Khemhet, a city of Arkadesh's homeland. Arkadesh has been kind enough to permit me to follow him about as he roamed the city. He explained the general operations of the city, including history, societial structures, and defense. The local people do not engage their emotions as previously observed in organics; perhaps this is why Arkadesh had difficulty with my belief system.
Sztuczka provided pleasant musical entertainment for our residing tavern, and so our stay was complementary. Sztuczka is very different from other gnomes encountered; primarily, she has not attempted to dismantle me in the name of science or magic. This is unusual, though not impossible. However, it has occurred to me that Sztuczka is still very much a tinker, but not of machines. She is a Tinker of Emotions. She can invoke great levels of sadness and joy in her audience, inspire a variety of emotional states, and repair hateful or deceitful moods.
Conclusions: Arkadesh's land is neat, and has provided new insight on organic emotional perceptions. Sztuczka's powers over the emotion spectrum are to be recognized and respected.
-day 288:
We have travelled a fair distance by wind, and are camping on top of an underwater reef. Many fish and aquatic organics with self-illuminative abilities were present during the night watch, with a variety of different colors and shapes. Very beautiful. Have never camped underwater before now.
Conclusions: The oceans of this plane are amazing, and
Sztuczka's Journal
So we traveled and now we are in Arcadius' homeland and it is shiny and he seems to garner a lot of respect and I had to get a license to perform and that is not something I have had to do in a long time and it is really awesome here and I think I keep catching little bits of inquiring glances since I am so small but it appears that etiquette here does not allow for them to ask me what the hell I am and it is rather amusing though it has not caused me any issues in dealings since people still respect me the way that society dictates rather than my size which is a nice change because usually if people are not used to gnomes I am treated as an oddity, not the great bard that I am and here they are appreciating my bardiness rather than my stature that is not to say I have never traded on the novelty of being a gnomish bard to work deals to my favor but I would rather that be used to my favor, rather than other people's amusement and perverted desires.
Monday, October 11, 2010
The Land of Arcadius
We made our way to the land which Arcadius comes from. While other went and did their thing I went and talked to some of the traders that were in town. The interesting thing was I came across a trader from Ismer. The merchant told me that all merchants from Ismer have been instructed to sell products but not purchase any. This would lead me to believe they are saving up to build an army. It is going to be very interesting few months. A lot is going to happen. I should send a letter back home letting them know what i have learn.
Anyways back to this land. It is a very interesting land. Seems to be well organized. Perhaps one day we should add them to the empire. They would be a good addition, but that is thoughts for another day. Right now I need to prepare for the battles ahead.
Anyways back to this land. It is a very interesting land. Seems to be well organized. Perhaps one day we should add them to the empire. They would be a good addition, but that is thoughts for another day. Right now I need to prepare for the battles ahead.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Arcadius and the Shadow Dragon
(From notes written several months past)
PART I - THE FIRST BATTLE
It had to be done, though little did I know at the time what that would require. I placed my fate in the hands of Lord Pelor, praise be upon him, and saw it through.
As it is said in my land, rightly we have done, rightly we do, and rightly may we do in the times to come.
I had felt for some time a foreboding, a growing knowledge that some new duty lay near in my future. I became quiet, withdrawn into meditation and reflection upon the will of Pelor and the tasks assigned by fate. What that task might prove to be, I did not know, but resolved that I would not shirk when the matter became clear. To my companions, I must have seemed strange, not myself, and in truth it was so, for I focused my mind, my spirit, to be but a weapon of righteousness in the hands of Lord Pelor.
We had been fooled by the Shadow Dragon, in its guise as a ranger. We chased it from the wilderness to the frontiers of the cursed Empire, where alas, it escaped to another plane of existence. In a town on the frontier, Jacob unwisely used his arcane powers, thereby scorching a patch of land of life and attracting much justified intervention from the authorities. He, untrustworthy soul, fled to parts unknown!
In the night that followed, I had a vision.
My companions, both those present and others dimly seen in the future, continued our quest, battling the foul Aboleth and their servants. We advanced through mysteries and dangers half-seen in my mind, as through a fog, till we reached a final confrontation with the Aboleth in their sunken city. Even as we did these things, however, the Dragon roamed the planes, gathering knowledge and power until it met an ancient and wicked Dracolich, who in turn gifted it with a tome of Necromantic power. Using this tome, the Shadow Dragon built an army of dead and darksome things, increasing its power in secret even as heroes and armies put their attention to the foe from the depths. Then, some time not long after the final victory over the Aboleth and their forces, the Shadow Dragon unleashed its armies against a weakened and war-torn world, sweeping all before them.
Something had to be done. Something WOULD be done, and against things of shadow and darkness, who but Lord Pelor could best do it? As his servant, I accepted the task and departed from the others. Gifted with certain insights from my vision, I journeyed to a place where I suspected the Dragon had a lair on this plane. It was in the wilds outside the Empire - not near, yet close enough. By the grace of Lord Pelor, I found the place in a twisted knot of blasted and treeless hills, and even came across a half-ruined and neglected back entrance. Indeed it seemed likely that the place had once been a dwelling of goblins, kobolds, or some other tunneling race of near to man size.
I entered the lair, and again by the grace of Pelor, reached the foul thing unnoticed. It had itself returned only moments before from some other plane of existence. It appeared to be wounded, and was surprised and unprepared at my arrival. I attacked at once, chanting a prayer to the Sun. Nonetheless, it was powerful. A vast and evil thing of blackness, it wielded power over the very dark itself.
I called upon the aid of Lord Pelor and dealt it devastating blow after blow. It was gravely wounded in the first few moments of fighting, but then it seemed to recover strength, called forth shadows to hide its counterattack, and breathed forth unlife to attack me. Praise to Lord Pelor, for his power is suited above all others to counter such things. Still, it was a mighty creature and well armed with claws, teeth, and fell magic. Indeed as the battle raged on, it seemed it might gain the upper hand, but the vile servitor of evil seemed to have other concerns, and used its magic to teleport away.
I investigated its lair, and found little treasure such as men reckon it, but much wealth of a greater kind: knowledge. Among the writings the Dragon kept at this place were old tomes, scrolls, and letters of correspondence. Piecing together what was contained therein, with the guidance of Pelor I gained new insights - the thing truly dwelt on another plane, the very plane of shadow in fact, and could not be permanently killed here. I considered what had happened, and knew that surprise and luck had been on my side. I accepted that I must grow stronger to defeat such a thing, and set myself to the task. Realizing the wisdom of preparation, I left the lair and traveled some distance to a hiding place in the wilds.
My goal was to rest for the night, then return to the dragon's lair, where I intended to collect the Dragon's books and other documents, as well as such wealth and items of power as could be collected. I hoped to study in greater depth what I had found, to find more of the thing's plots, powers, and weaknesses.
It did not turn out so.
PART I - THE FIRST BATTLE
It had to be done, though little did I know at the time what that would require. I placed my fate in the hands of Lord Pelor, praise be upon him, and saw it through.
As it is said in my land, rightly we have done, rightly we do, and rightly may we do in the times to come.
I had felt for some time a foreboding, a growing knowledge that some new duty lay near in my future. I became quiet, withdrawn into meditation and reflection upon the will of Pelor and the tasks assigned by fate. What that task might prove to be, I did not know, but resolved that I would not shirk when the matter became clear. To my companions, I must have seemed strange, not myself, and in truth it was so, for I focused my mind, my spirit, to be but a weapon of righteousness in the hands of Lord Pelor.
We had been fooled by the Shadow Dragon, in its guise as a ranger. We chased it from the wilderness to the frontiers of the cursed Empire, where alas, it escaped to another plane of existence. In a town on the frontier, Jacob unwisely used his arcane powers, thereby scorching a patch of land of life and attracting much justified intervention from the authorities. He, untrustworthy soul, fled to parts unknown!
In the night that followed, I had a vision.
My companions, both those present and others dimly seen in the future, continued our quest, battling the foul Aboleth and their servants. We advanced through mysteries and dangers half-seen in my mind, as through a fog, till we reached a final confrontation with the Aboleth in their sunken city. Even as we did these things, however, the Dragon roamed the planes, gathering knowledge and power until it met an ancient and wicked Dracolich, who in turn gifted it with a tome of Necromantic power. Using this tome, the Shadow Dragon built an army of dead and darksome things, increasing its power in secret even as heroes and armies put their attention to the foe from the depths. Then, some time not long after the final victory over the Aboleth and their forces, the Shadow Dragon unleashed its armies against a weakened and war-torn world, sweeping all before them.
Something had to be done. Something WOULD be done, and against things of shadow and darkness, who but Lord Pelor could best do it? As his servant, I accepted the task and departed from the others. Gifted with certain insights from my vision, I journeyed to a place where I suspected the Dragon had a lair on this plane. It was in the wilds outside the Empire - not near, yet close enough. By the grace of Lord Pelor, I found the place in a twisted knot of blasted and treeless hills, and even came across a half-ruined and neglected back entrance. Indeed it seemed likely that the place had once been a dwelling of goblins, kobolds, or some other tunneling race of near to man size.
I entered the lair, and again by the grace of Pelor, reached the foul thing unnoticed. It had itself returned only moments before from some other plane of existence. It appeared to be wounded, and was surprised and unprepared at my arrival. I attacked at once, chanting a prayer to the Sun. Nonetheless, it was powerful. A vast and evil thing of blackness, it wielded power over the very dark itself.
I called upon the aid of Lord Pelor and dealt it devastating blow after blow. It was gravely wounded in the first few moments of fighting, but then it seemed to recover strength, called forth shadows to hide its counterattack, and breathed forth unlife to attack me. Praise to Lord Pelor, for his power is suited above all others to counter such things. Still, it was a mighty creature and well armed with claws, teeth, and fell magic. Indeed as the battle raged on, it seemed it might gain the upper hand, but the vile servitor of evil seemed to have other concerns, and used its magic to teleport away.
I investigated its lair, and found little treasure such as men reckon it, but much wealth of a greater kind: knowledge. Among the writings the Dragon kept at this place were old tomes, scrolls, and letters of correspondence. Piecing together what was contained therein, with the guidance of Pelor I gained new insights - the thing truly dwelt on another plane, the very plane of shadow in fact, and could not be permanently killed here. I considered what had happened, and knew that surprise and luck had been on my side. I accepted that I must grow stronger to defeat such a thing, and set myself to the task. Realizing the wisdom of preparation, I left the lair and traveled some distance to a hiding place in the wilds.
My goal was to rest for the night, then return to the dragon's lair, where I intended to collect the Dragon's books and other documents, as well as such wealth and items of power as could be collected. I hoped to study in greater depth what I had found, to find more of the thing's plots, powers, and weaknesses.
It did not turn out so.
Ragnarr Stories: Return of the Djinn
To be honest, I don't know what in the name of Pelor we were doing in the plane of fire. I hadn't even seen Misty this time around. Dogwater just showed up and started writing instructions on the wall. The barkeep wasn't happy about that. I tried to tell him Dogwater was an elemental, so it was pure water and, really, the walls would be cleaner by the time Dogwater was done. The bastard didn't believe me, and made me pay him five silvers for cleaning. Bastard.
I pissed in the corner to give him something real to pay for.
But anyway, so Dogwater had written to me that the Misty Bastard wanted me to go with a few other bastards who owed him favors and provide support. Infinite amounts of space between me and a shitload of Paladins, and what doe he want? For me to go heal bastards. The bastard.
So we go portal hopping for a bit. He seemed a bit bigger. I don't know how long he'd been away in Water Elemental time, but he didn't look worse for it. Seemed quicker, too. Had to run like a bastard just to keep up with him. We came up to what I guessed was the last portal. It was like standing in front of a forge. Not bad to stand there, but walk through? Seemed like a bloody stupid idea.
That's when Dogwater peed on me. Bastard.
It was a good thing, though. Whatever he did, it was chilly. Cold enough that I was fine when we walked into the bloody plane of fire, and met up with the bastards I was supposed to be healing.
And that's how I ended up as the healer for a Crystal Dragon and a pair of giant bloody women made of snow and ice. Not bad looking women, either, though they were a bit large for my taste, if you get my meaning. Fifteen feet tall's a bit over my limit.
Oh, and did I mention the giant bloody pile of steaming ooze? Bloody planar lords. All those times I couldn't figure out what the hell Tupper was doing with a bunch of paladins, but at least he was kind of the same general shape.
At least none of the other bastards seemed happy to be here, either. I mean, Dogwater seemed as cheerful as he always did, but that's what makes him annoying as a bastard.
So on we went, the women bitching about the heat and about how their mascara and their faces were running, the dragon roaring, and that damn blob of mucus burbling in a way that seemed put out.
That was about when we got ambushed. What we might have got ambushed by... Pelor, I don't know. We were in the plane of fire. There was fire. Then there was more fire. Maybe some eyes.
I started healing as fast as I could, but I knew it wasn't going to be enough. I screamed something towards Pelor. Not a prayer, exactly. More of a long stream of cursing.
And the attack stopped. I realized I had heard someone yell "Stop" in a way that sounded commanding, so that might have something to do with it.
Somebody came out of the mob of fire bastards. A bastard I recognized. Apparently a bastard who recognized me, too.
"How is that other dwarf, anyway," he asked. "I owe him. A couple of times."
I told him I hadn't seen Flam. It seemed to make him truly sad.
"Well," he said. "I suppose one dwarf is as good as another, right? Since your people have done me so many favors, I will let you go."
We talked for a while about that. Apparently he really had just been ecstatic to be home. He'd seen his wife, spent time with his kids, made a few more kids. Had a great time of it, really. But there was a trick, the bastard. He was willing to let me go. Not the rest of the bastards with me.
Which, to be fair, they were a weird bunch. And that genie bastard considered them to be a fair price for the Misty Bastard invading the plane of fire. But they were all there for the same reason I was. They all fell into debt with the Misty Bastard. They hadn't really signed up to die.
So... I might have cheated a wee bit. I mean, I only cast the one spell to take me back to the Plane of Mist. How was I to help it if the others happened to be touching me when I went? I mean, just because I shouted "Hold on to me" as the spell went off. Could have happened to anyone, right?
But the planes are a funny place. You save someone's life, and they consider themselves to owe you a favor. Or at least they figure they should ask a little less of you when you need something. So they all offered that, if I ever really needed help, they could give me a hand.
Except Dogwater. He just tried to hump my leg, which mostly just made it wet. Then took me back to Misty, who just said "Good work" and sent me back to my bar.
I pissed in the corner to give him something real to pay for.
But anyway, so Dogwater had written to me that the Misty Bastard wanted me to go with a few other bastards who owed him favors and provide support. Infinite amounts of space between me and a shitload of Paladins, and what doe he want? For me to go heal bastards. The bastard.
So we go portal hopping for a bit. He seemed a bit bigger. I don't know how long he'd been away in Water Elemental time, but he didn't look worse for it. Seemed quicker, too. Had to run like a bastard just to keep up with him. We came up to what I guessed was the last portal. It was like standing in front of a forge. Not bad to stand there, but walk through? Seemed like a bloody stupid idea.
That's when Dogwater peed on me. Bastard.
It was a good thing, though. Whatever he did, it was chilly. Cold enough that I was fine when we walked into the bloody plane of fire, and met up with the bastards I was supposed to be healing.
And that's how I ended up as the healer for a Crystal Dragon and a pair of giant bloody women made of snow and ice. Not bad looking women, either, though they were a bit large for my taste, if you get my meaning. Fifteen feet tall's a bit over my limit.
Oh, and did I mention the giant bloody pile of steaming ooze? Bloody planar lords. All those times I couldn't figure out what the hell Tupper was doing with a bunch of paladins, but at least he was kind of the same general shape.
At least none of the other bastards seemed happy to be here, either. I mean, Dogwater seemed as cheerful as he always did, but that's what makes him annoying as a bastard.
So on we went, the women bitching about the heat and about how their mascara and their faces were running, the dragon roaring, and that damn blob of mucus burbling in a way that seemed put out.
That was about when we got ambushed. What we might have got ambushed by... Pelor, I don't know. We were in the plane of fire. There was fire. Then there was more fire. Maybe some eyes.
I started healing as fast as I could, but I knew it wasn't going to be enough. I screamed something towards Pelor. Not a prayer, exactly. More of a long stream of cursing.
And the attack stopped. I realized I had heard someone yell "Stop" in a way that sounded commanding, so that might have something to do with it.
Somebody came out of the mob of fire bastards. A bastard I recognized. Apparently a bastard who recognized me, too.
"How is that other dwarf, anyway," he asked. "I owe him. A couple of times."
I told him I hadn't seen Flam. It seemed to make him truly sad.
"Well," he said. "I suppose one dwarf is as good as another, right? Since your people have done me so many favors, I will let you go."
We talked for a while about that. Apparently he really had just been ecstatic to be home. He'd seen his wife, spent time with his kids, made a few more kids. Had a great time of it, really. But there was a trick, the bastard. He was willing to let me go. Not the rest of the bastards with me.
Which, to be fair, they were a weird bunch. And that genie bastard considered them to be a fair price for the Misty Bastard invading the plane of fire. But they were all there for the same reason I was. They all fell into debt with the Misty Bastard. They hadn't really signed up to die.
So... I might have cheated a wee bit. I mean, I only cast the one spell to take me back to the Plane of Mist. How was I to help it if the others happened to be touching me when I went? I mean, just because I shouted "Hold on to me" as the spell went off. Could have happened to anyone, right?
But the planes are a funny place. You save someone's life, and they consider themselves to owe you a favor. Or at least they figure they should ask a little less of you when you need something. So they all offered that, if I ever really needed help, they could give me a hand.
Except Dogwater. He just tried to hump my leg, which mostly just made it wet. Then took me back to Misty, who just said "Good work" and sent me back to my bar.
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