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Post by crymson on Aug 28, 2008 8:10:39 GMT
Dreams. Every night for the last few months they had plagued you. Some nights you dreamt of fire and blistering heat; other nights it was of ice and freezing cold. Some nights the dreams were of war and destruction, while others it was of death and disease. Your sleep was tormented and tortured for many long months, until the dreams suddenly changed.
No longer were they of violence, bloodshed and hardship; now they were of a warm, peaceful light. These dreams calmed you and purified your soul, washing away the horrors you had seen in your previous dreams. Then, one night, you heard a voice within the dreams. It spoke softly, but in a commanding voice: “Come to me.”
At first you ignored it, passing it off as just your overactive imagination. But the dreams persisted, and the voice became more insistent that you should go to him. Finally you could take no more. Packing your gear, you set out in search of the voice. You did not know where you had to go, but instinct drove you own, pursuing the source of the voice and dreams.
After many weeks of travelling you came to the city of Kadan, capital of Cloeasia. There you made your way to the Gliding Eagle tavern, an old building just within the city’s walls. Not knowing what to expect but knowing your journey was at an end, you entered the tavern.
At once you were greeted by a short, dark-skinned man with short black hair and a curly moustache. “Good to see you have finally arrived,” he said in greeting. “Please, follow me.” Puzzled over his remarks, you did as you were bid. The innkeeper led you to a table in the corner of the crowded tavern, where a large table stood. Seated around it were several other people, all from diverse cultures by the looks of them.
You take a seat amongst these strangers and the innkeeper places some bread, cheese, wine and ale on the table. "Your host will be here shortly. If there is anything you need, please ask. Everything is on the house."
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Post by Randal Sarryn on Aug 28, 2008 8:25:25 GMT
Tired and hungry after his journey, Randal helps himself to the bread and cheese, and also some ale. "Who are you? Are you the one who summoned me?" he says to the dark-skinned man. "And these others too?"
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Post by crymson on Aug 28, 2008 9:54:50 GMT
"Nay," he replies, shaking his head. "'Twas not me. He shall be along shortly." With that he turns and leaves.
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Post by Callum Darmoon on Aug 28, 2008 11:37:57 GMT
Despite leaving his lands with minimum preparation and notification, Sir Callum is still every inch the knight in appearance and bearing. He has interracted as coutesy dictates, but is still looking to solve the mystery of the summons that has now turned int oa gathering.
Those aroudn the table, by and large, seem people of good - this man who could well be of Dessi would certainly continue that theme.
Sir Callum nods to the new entrant, and takes not of what is said by the innkeeper.
Still Sir Callum looks aroudn the table to see the reactions - incase a trick is afoot, and one of these members is false.
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Post by Lukav Nourabi on Aug 28, 2008 13:38:59 GMT
Despite their persistence, he had still been trying to pass off the dreams as simply his mind's way of telling him that he would like to come here, but now that Lukav seems to have become part of a gathering of people who themselves appear to be somewhat unsure of the reason for their presence he is forced to accept that there might be more to it than that. Still, there's no sense in looking as uncertain as he feels.
"Well, I don't think any of you are just here to visit your capital city," he says cheerfully, hoping that functional Durenese will be understood by the majority, "because I'll warrant that this isn't the capital of any of your countries."
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Post by Coll Ewen on Aug 28, 2008 15:52:24 GMT
Coll takes his seat with a nod of acknowledgment towards the others. He sits silently, confused and exhausted from the road.
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Post by Dirk Hellhammer on Aug 28, 2008 16:37:07 GMT
Dirk reached over for the wine. Taking a quick sip, he gently placed the bottle down and beckoned the bartender for something stronger.
"So", he said, placing his rifle on his lap and taking a big stretch, "we all here yet? I'm sure a knight, a dwarf and some guy with a stick don't draw enough attention as it is."
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Post by Lukav Nourabi on Aug 29, 2008 0:27:14 GMT
"That might be difficult to answer," says Lukav, grinning at the dwarf; "does anyone know who 'we all' are?"
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Post by crymson on Aug 29, 2008 9:18:44 GMT
"I do."
You turn to see an elderly man in a faded yellow robe approaching the table. He is bent over and walks only with the help of a wooden staff.
"I trust you all made it here safely?" Good, good," he says, taking a seat. He fingers a golden amulet hanging around his neck, which resembles a sun.
"Are you ready to fulfill your destiny?" he asks.
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Post by Dirk Hellhammer on Aug 29, 2008 9:41:00 GMT
Dirk chuckles despite himself.
"Destiny, eh? There are many fools who get an idea in their head, jumble it around with obsession and call it destiny. But I guess you have an explanation for us all, eh stranger..."
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Post by Lukav Nourabi on Aug 29, 2008 12:02:17 GMT
Lukav smiles wryly to himself; he should have known that a weird gathering like this would have been organised by some mystical old nutter. Still, he might be a rich mystical old nutter.
"Yeah," says Lukav brightly in continuation of the dwarf's words, "explain how you want us to fulfill our destiny and I'm ready to do it."
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Post by Randal Sarryn on Aug 29, 2008 13:31:20 GMT
"I rather thought my 'destiny' was to carry out alchemical research in my laboratory," sniffs Randal. "But instead you have compelled me to trudge all the way here. I'm not at all sure what you want with me, and I've never seen these other people in my life. In short, what the hell is going on?"
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Post by Coll Ewen on Aug 29, 2008 16:20:01 GMT
Coll shifts restlessly in his chair and leans forward to hear out the elderly man.
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Post by crymson on Aug 30, 2008 23:19:22 GMT
The old man looks at you all in turn, as if judging your worth. Apparently satisfied, he leans back in his chair and begins his story.
"You have all been chosen to save Magnamund from a horrible fate. I, too, have been chosen, as your guide through these troublesome times." He pauses, taking a sip of wine, before continuing.
"Far to the north and west an army of epic proportions is gathering. In the region of the Darklands, new threats have emerged. Over the last year, villages and towns in areas of the Darklands that have been reclaimed have been layed waste once more, destroyed by mighty armies led by Naar's new champions: the Dragonlords."
He pauses again, considering his next few words carefully. "It is believed that there are five of these Dragonlords, though it is not certain. What is certain, however, is that together they are much more powerful than all of the Darklords combined."
He drains his cup of wine before looking at you again.
"With my help, you are going to stop these Dragonlords."
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Post by Callum Darmoon on Aug 31, 2008 8:40:15 GMT
Callum shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the words, but an conain himself no longer and strikes his palm firmly on the table to gain the attention of all. "You say you were chosen to lead," he asked the robed man, "by whom were you, and by extention us, chosen? Where comes your information from?" Callum's eyes narrow, not so much in suspicion but merely in the act of working out the situation. "If you are true, we should not be meeting in Cloeasia! Sommerlund and Durenor must be warned of this new threat! Surely that is the first task if these 'dragonlords' you speak of are real."
Callum looks around the table for support, then again to his yellow robed host for an answer.
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