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  1. #41
    2015 DDO Players Council Hazelnut's Avatar
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    The Stormreaver had called Curissa away from her team in the artisan's workshop. They stood in the large practice area out behind the workshop. Apprentices could practice their spells out here after the work day was done.

    The Stormreaver looked at Curissa, "You've come a long way since your father brought you here to apprentice. Would you like me to teach you a harder spell. This one is a bit above your level."

    "Oh yes master Stormreaver", Curissa enthused. Even after a year she was annoyed that the master of the workshop refused to call her "Lady" like all the other staff did.

    "I'm going to teach you a second level spell. It's called 'gust of wind'. It will call a strong breeze. The sailors are particularly fond of this spell. They use it to push their ships when the natural wind is not available. If you can learn to imbue it into wands reliably, we could call you a journeyman sorceress, which normally takes 4 years of apprenticeship, not one. The motions are similar to the shocking touch spell you are so fond of but more exaggerated. Watch carefully." Without waiting, the Stormreaver threw a blast of wind at Curissa that knocked her flat on her back and sent her rolling across the practice field.

    After she got herself up and walked back to him, the Stormreaver went over the motions slower and explained the other components of the spell to Curissa, "do you think you can try that? Don't expect it to work perfectly the first time."

    Curissa nodded, focused her mind and started the exaggerated gestures as she spoke the words to this spell. As it finished there was a loud crack and flash. She saw the Stormreaver rolling across the practice field but something was very wrong. The day had gone dark except for where the Stormreaver was still rolling and Curissa smelled the scent of ozone as the blackness closed around her.

    When she opened her eyes, she looked up at the faces of the five senior spell casters from the workshop with the night sky behind them. The smell of ozone still strong in the air. "Are you alright," she asked.

    The five looked startled and then the Stormreaver said, "a better question is are you alright, Lady Curissa?" It was the first time he had ever used her title?

    "The spell took more out of me than I expected, master, but I feel fine now."

    "In that case, do you think you could stop the shocking grasp spell?"

    "What?" Curissa raised her right hand to look and it was crackling with little bolts of lightening zipping across and around it. "Oh." She closed her eyes again and concentrated on dispelling the magic. When she opened her eyes the lightening was gone from her had. She looked at the darkness.

    The Stormreaver held a hand out to help Curissa stand, "You've been out for about 6 hours. It's nearly midnight and you've been crackling with electricity the whole time. We couldn't move you. Two of the journeymen were injured when they tried."

    "I'm sorry."

    "Don't be. I shouldn't have tried to teach you that spell so early. I'm very glad you are alright."

    "Oh please, I want to learn it. Please."

    "Rest for a few days and we will see."

    Since then whenever Curissa got excited or frightened or angry the lightening would crackle around her.
    Zyinniah Hazelnut and Curissa Hazelnut on most servers.

  2. #42
    Community Member Aeryyn's Avatar
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    Default Captain Dustdyn

    Two days later, Ashja, Waldhorn, and Koryx sat in the Salty Wench Tavern, listening for clues to Curissa's whereabouts. They learned that Captain Dustdyn was an orc pirate. He kept an encampment on the east side of the cove. After they learned that they were being followed by Dustdyn's crew, it hadn't taken them long find out who he was, and arrange transport to Three Barrel Cove.

    They were sure that Dustdyn's crew had warned him that they were coming. He probably assumed it was to pay the ransom. Little did he know that the investigation team had other plans.

    **********
    Ashja crept along the base of the cliff, hugging the rocks. She stepped carefully, so as not to cause the stones to shift.

    "Wha' was'at?" a gruff voice from the other side of the rocks demanded.

    The half-elf froze, she knew what the pirate had heard. She had heard it too. That bloody dwarf in that bloody plate armor he insisted on wearing -- again. Quietly drawing her blades, she waited for the guards she knew were around the corner.

    Sure enough, she heard weapons drawn and footfalls running in their direction. She waited until they had passed, then crept up on the magic user. Two strokes of her blades and he lay dead on the ground.

    Ashja ran up behind the huge orc trying to beat down Roland. She hamstrung him and jumped back out of range of his counterattack. The distraction gave the dwarf the opening he needed to finish the pirate. The other two dwarves in their party had one of the other guards cornered. They were winning. The last orc had fallen back and was firing arrows at the group. Roland rushed him as Ashja sheathed her blades and drew her own bow.

    It took the party several hours of stealth and battle, but they were able to recover the small chest that had been stolen from the caravan the day before. Master Henrick had promised her a bonus to help recover the chest from the orc band that had stolen it.

    It had been a clever trap. The orcs had set it days before the caravan arrived. They had dug a hole just big enough to break a wheel on one of the wagons. Just enough to stop the caravan for a couple of nights while the wagon wheel was repaired. It was a stealth job, and Master Henrick might not have even noticed the chest was missing had he not been in the habit of checking it daily.

    He called Roland and Ashja into his wagon and told them of the deed. Ashja searched the area around the wagons and found several sets of very large boot prints that lead to the north and east of where the caravan had been halted. Master Henrick had each of his squad leaders pick one of their guards to accompany them and supplied the group with a variety of potions and elixirs in lieu of sending the healer with them.

    The group followed the prints to a narrow canyon where the orcs had been hiding.

    **********
    Ashja took the new dress out of her backpack and handed it to Curissa. "I thought you might want a clean dress," she said with a grin.

  3. #43
    Community Member DrowsworD's Avatar
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    Default Rescrued

    “Wish we had taken time to oil the armor,” Koryx whispered in Waldhorns’s good ear. “Maybe we wouldn’t be left hanging back here while Ashja trails these guys.

    Waldhorn squints in the darkness, trying to make out Koryx’ face, “She is the only quiet one among us, but as drunk as those guys are, and singing that song you taught them, I doubt they could hear a minotaur stampede. And one more thing, where does a person schooled in priestly ways learn such baudy tales, jokes and songs? You would think you were more sailor than priest.”

    Koryx grinned as he thought of his days with the guards; dicing, drinking and generally not doing anything ‘priestly’ as Waldhorn put it. He was a priest, and swore to, and at, his gods and family as much as any of the faith. But that didn’t mean he had to give up worldly gifts, or vices, as some thought.

    “Would you two be quiet down back there,” Ashja stabbed with sharp whisper. “I could hear you before I could see you and that would lead the whole pack down on us if they weren’t drunk. Must have been celebrating, thinking they were getting a payoff soon.”

    “I’ve taken out some of the guards but they will be found soon. You two will need to stand near the entry to cover me and take out any before they raise an alarm. She is not too far inside the camp, thank Olladra, but it may take me some time to get to her. Keep a close watch and try not to make any noise. Follow me.” Koryx handed Ashja a leather pouch, “Give her these; we may need her magic before we get out of here and this will help.”

    The two dead pirates didn’t quite look, or smell, human, but Koryx wasn’t getting close enough to determine their race. Ashja had left Waldhorn and him at this gap in the rocks, maybe thinking someone looking this way would mistake them for the missing guards. Either way, they both had bows, although Koryx was a sorry shot and the crossbow was a slow, if powerful, weapon.

    Waldhorn grumbled at first, insisting he go with Ashja, as if he could move as fast and as quiet as the ranger. Koryx had misgivings also, and had provided Ashja with what protections he could. The camp was getting quieter, the reverie from earlier dying down to a few voices at one or two fires. Koryx did hear the song he had taught the pirates being echoed from one of the fires, no doubt being passed down to another pirate. Koryx smiled, what they and Waldhorn thought was a baudy street song was actually a prayer to Boldrei, although he may have changed up some of the words. If any of the Sovereign hear them singing that song, they will attack them for blasphemy..HA!

    Luckily, there were several moons in the sky tonight, which meant plenty of light to shoot by, but also plenty of shadows to hide in if need be.

  4. #44
    Community Member Fricko's Avatar
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    Default In The Gap

    =

    Waldhorn's eyes followed the glance of Koryx to the moons in the sky, and silently thanked Dol Arrah for both the light to reveal targets, and the deep shadows that concealed their own true nature from guards. Ashja had disappeared into those shadows along the edge of the towering cliff face, making her way toward the dying fire at the narrow head of the small valley where the Dustdyn Orc Pirate camp lay. He could see several slumped forms against the cliff wall on the far side of the fire, several more curled up asleep around it, and a very large figure sitting on a rock beside it. The distance was greater than he'd have preferred, but still reasonable for Orc killing with his Elf-made Longbow and handful of enhanced arrows.

    "Do you see Curissa?" he whispered cautiously to Koryx, who simply shook his head, keeping his eyes on the area around the fire, crossbow aimed at the massive sulking form on the rock.

    The young Paladin divided his attention between the fire and the ledges surrounding the secluded campsite. From time to time, a bow or axe wielding Orc guard would appear on a ledge or outcrop of rock above, stand a bit, then disappear to continue his patrol. Ashja would have to make her move soon, or risk having a guard change reveal their invasion. He very much doubted that being lucky enough to wind up at the bottom of a large pile of bodies would save him a second time.

    =

  5. #45
    2015 DDO Players Council Hazelnut's Avatar
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    Curissa lay curled on a hard rock some distance from a dying fire. Her feet and hands tied and a gag making sure she would not utter any spells when she awoke. There were bruises both old and new over most of her body. The crackle of lightening skipping around her skin had kept even the most enthuiastic of the pirates from taking liberties with her unconcious body but had done little to slow their beating her. Uncontrolled magic had few uses but Curissa would be glad of one, if she survived.
    Zyinniah Hazelnut and Curissa Hazelnut on most servers.

  6. #46
    Community Member Fricko's Avatar
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    Default AWOL tonight.

    I'm afraid I'm going to be AWOL tonight, 08/22/14. Redheaded "Duty" has yelled, and I can only cower in obedience.

    -Sam

  7. #47
    2015 DDO Players Council Hazelnut's Avatar
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    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by Fricko View Post
    I'm afraid I'm going to be AWOL tonight, 08/22/14. Redheaded "Duty" has yelled, and I can only cower in obedience.

    -Sam
    I know you love the redhead and secretly enjoy doing everything she tells you.
    Zyinniah Hazelnut and Curissa Hazelnut on most servers.

  8. #48
    Community Member Aeryyn's Avatar
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    Default Ashja: Rescue

    Curissa was bruised and bloody, her dress torn, her arms and legs bound, and a gag stuffed in her mouth. Ashja could see faint blue light dancing over the elf's body, could feel the familiar static, smell the ozone in the air. The half-elf crept slowly toward the platform on which the elf was bound. She checked carefully for traps, barely seeing a magical trap before she tripped it.

    Ashja could see no way to get Curissa to safety before one of the guards discovered her. They needed a diversion. On the way back to the others, she made note of where the pirates had made their sleeping rolls and how often the roving patrols made their rounds.

    When Ashja rejoined the others, she described the situation. One of them would have to get close enough to Curissa to cut her bonds and release her.

    Before they could devise a strategy, one of the roving patrols discovered them. The fight was on.

    **********
    By the time the group had returned the chest to Master Henrick, the wagon wheel was almost fixed. The caravan master had decided to stay for the rest of that day and restart their journey to Wroat on the morrow.

    That evening, Ashja and Roland set careful watches. The half-elf felt a sense of unease, as if something wasn't quite as it seemed. She had the same feeling when Brother Varn had told her that Evyn had been killed in a rock slide and his body never recovered. First, two of the caravan guards had been taken, and Sigurd tortured to death. Then Brother Varn appeared at the caravan asking about her. Finally, the trap that cost the caravan two days repairing a broken wheel.

    Something kept bothering her about he death of Sigurd. She had seen similar marks before, but she couldn't think where. Until suddenly....Yes! Of course!

    Ashja raced to the wagon of the caravan master, her heart racing. It wasn't too late, so she didn't think she'd be waking the caravan master and his wife.

    "Master Henrick, I just remembered something, and it cannot wait until morning," Ashja announced when the dwarf responded to her frantic knock. She hadn't meant to pound on the caravan master's wagon, but she was frightened as well as excited.

    "This better be good," the dwarf growled, his shirtless torso blocking any view of the inside of the wagon.

    "Trust me, sir, I wouldn't bother you if it weren't important," the half-elf responded, blushing. "It has to do with Sigurd's death."

    The caravan master regarded her for a moment, then said, "give us a minute." With that, he closed the door to the wagon.

    A few minutes later, the caravan master, now clothed in an ornate dressing gown, invited Ashja into the wagon. She could still not believe how much bigger the wagon was on the inside than on the out. Helga, her face flushed, bosom heaving, winked at the half-elf from the other side of the wagon.

    "You have something to tell me about Sigurd, elf?" the caravan master growled.

    "Oh, uh, yes," Ashja's attention snapped back to the dwarf, her blush deepening. "Something kept bothering me about, er," some of the red drained from her cheeks, "his wounds when we found him. I kept thinking I had seen similar marks before, but couldn't think where. I remembered tonight." She swallowed, her mouth going dry.

    "And? Get on with it, elf," the dwarf snarled.

    "Do you remember I told you that I had found the body of my friend Evyn?"

    "Aye," he sat up straighter, the gruff edge beginning to fade.

    "Evyn had similar wounds on his body," Ashja swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Helga brought her a cup of water, having seen the girl go pale as she spoke.

    Ashja accepted the cup gratefully, and drank the cup down in one big gulp. She watched as the caravan master processed what she had just told him. His face changed from annoyance, to skepticism, to acceptance, and finally to the realization of what she had just implied.

    "Are you sure, girl?" he asked, astonished.

    "Oh yes, those images are burned in my mind, I don't think I will ever be able to forget," Ashja replied, looking past the caravan master with haunted eyes.

    "Very well, let's get Roland in here and discuss what to do," the caravan master shot an apologetic look to his wife.

    **********
    The party fought their way to Curissa. Ashja snuck up on unsuspecting guards when she could and ambushed sleeping pirates when she found them. She fired arrow after arrow from behind Waldhorn and Koryx as they created a wall of plate armor, hacking and slashing their way to the central camp.

    On the final platform, Captain Dustdyn and his bodyguards waited for the group.

    "Arr," the pirate captain snarled, "ye'll not be making it off this island alive. I'll hang yer skins from the main mast fer all ta see. Ye don' mess around with Captain Dustdyn!" And with that, he launched himself at Koryx and the guards rushed Waldhorn.

    In the end, Captain Dustdyn and his bodyguards lay dead. Ashja was able to study the trap that kept Curissa prisoner and disarm it. They found a pot of hot water and the elf cleaned herself up. Ashja took the new dress out of the leather pouch Koryx had given her and helped Curissa into it. When the sorceress was ready, the group made their way back to Barrel's Bottom and their rooms at The Salty Wench Tavern.

  9. #49
    2015 DDO Players Council Hazelnut's Avatar
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    Default Curissa: Recovery

    Curissa lay on a lumpy straw mattress with an itchy wool blanket over her and stared up at the rough cut wood ceiling of the Salty Wench Tavern in Three Barrel Cove. Elves rarely sleep and the last time Curissa had truly slept was about 10 years ago when her father’s master magewright, the Stormreaver, had tried to teach her an advanced wind spell while she was apprenticing. That quest had ended almost as badly as this one but like before, Curissa was not about to give up because of a failure. If only moving didn’t hurt so much.

    Ashja, Waldhorn, and Koryx had burst into Dustdyn’s camp and come to Curissa’s rescue. Koryx was a cleric and a skilled healer. Under his ministrations, Curissa’s cuts and the ribs he said were probably broken had healed; but magic healing came at a price. The pain of bruises remained and her muscles ached from the stresses of rapid healing. Not moving would only make the ache last longer.

    So, Curissa slowly crawled out of the bed and put on the simple dress that Ashja had brought for her. Curissa was a bit surprised at the quality and style of the dress. It was not at all Ashja’s style of functional but barbaric. The off-white dress had simple but well done blue embroidery highlighting just above the waist and a white fur wrap collar. It was far simpler that Curissa was accustomed to but not without charm.

    Forgoing her usual attempt to be the centre of attention when she entered a room, Curissa slipped into the common room quietly and looked to see if her friends were around. She spotted Ashja and Koryx at a table in the back. Curissa sat down slowly, “Good morning. And thank you again, for coming to my rescue.”

    “At least you weren’t being held in a sewer”, Koryx grinned.

    “The sewers pay better”, Ashja pointed out, “but I’m glad you are alright, Curissa.”
    Zyinniah Hazelnut and Curissa Hazelnut on most servers.

  10. #50
    Community Member Fricko's Avatar
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    Default Confessions

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    Waldhorn: Confessions

    The tall Paladin entered the Salty Wench just as Curissa joined the others at their corner table. There he paused for a long moment, watching the pleasure light their faces as greetings were exchanged, and low laughter carried to his ears. Gathering his courage for what was to come, he smiled weakly at Ashja, who's sharp eyes had noticed his presence. With a reluctant pace, he closed the distance to stand facing his friends, offering up a silent prayer to Dol Arrah that they would still be friends when he was done.

    "Hello, Waldhorn!" Koryx thumped a fist on the table in greeting.

    "Waldhorn!" Curissa looked up and smiled, the crackle of electricity weaving a fast pattern over her right arm and hand before vanishing into the air at her fingertips.

    "Are you okay?" Ashja wore her concern openly, as she picked up on his anxiety and barely controlled fear.

    "Hail and a grand morning to each of you!" He tried to smile, but knew the attempt was a failure when both Curissa and Koryx showed expressions of concern as well. "Well... perhaps I've had better days, as I fear I have to give you information I've held secret for much too long. I owe you the truth, and the chance to decide for yourselves how to act on it."

    Still uncertain of how to begin, he removed his weapons and pack, placing them against the wall to purchase precious moments of time to calm a racing mind. Unencumbered, he took a seat beside Ashja, then tuned slightly so he could face her and also the pair across from them.

    "The truth?" Curissa repeated, instantly leaning forward eagerly. The young Sorceress either did not sense the level of his discomfort, or dismissed it as simply Waldhorn exhibiting his normal social inhibitions.

    "The truth is... I am an imposter with a dead Knight of The Flame's necklace around my throat, and a dead Priest of the Sovereign Host's ring on my finger. I've never taken an oath in a Lawful Court of any Church of The Nine, or of The Flame, to assume the duties of a Paladin."

    His announcement was met with stunned silence... then a babble of protesting vioces that simply formed a low roar in his ears for a few moments.

    "Quiet!" Koryx's deep bass voice broke through, as he held up a hand. The ladies looked a bit stunned at the command, but before a new protest could be mounted against the Cleric, he spoke directly to Waldhorn with a puzzled frown.

    "I do na' understand, as I have witnessed ye utilizin' the Holy Powers granted by The Nine! Yer healin' and even Lay on Hands, which even I canna do! That, me lad, that is power reserved for a true an' faithful Paladin!"

    "He speaks the truth, Waldhorn," Ashja nodded, laying a palm on Koryx's still upraised hand to gently press it down to the table top. The Dwarf Cleric had the grace to blush and mumble an almost silent apology. "You cannot believe the Gods grant you the powers, if you are not on of their chosen!

    "Yes, you have healed each of us of minor wounds after combat many times, and surely you remember the fuss I made about Lay on Hands until you demonstrated it was not a physical act!" Curissa smiled, even as she blushed a bit at the memory.

    "I know!" Waldhorn shook his head in obvious frustration with his situation. "I am at a loss to explain any of this.... but hear me out, and then tell me I've not done something terrible."

    "What did you do?" Curissa was leaning forward again, eagerness in her posture and expression. "Did you kill the Paladin and Cleric?"

    "Curissa!" Ashja's voice was both horrified and chiding, causing the target to cringe and sit back.

    "I was just curious!"

    "No, I did not kill them. I did survive the attack that killed them, and all the others I was with." Waldhorn rested his elbows on the table and lowered his head to his big hands in sorrow. "I was the only survivor of... look, let me start at the beginning. You need to know it all."

    (More)

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  11. #51
    Community Member Fricko's Avatar
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    Default Confessions - Con't

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    Confessions - Con't

    "As I've told you before, I really was a camp tender and assistant for Silver Flame Missionaries as a boy and young teen." Waldhorn paused and took in a ragged breath, struggling with both the past memories and with how his confession would be received by people he desperately wanted to understand.

    "What I did not tell you, was that I had been recruited and trained over the winter by the Inquisitors of The Flame, who had reason to believe the Mission I worked with was compromised by pretenders. We had lost several key members of our party under unlikely circumstances, and their replacements had been under observation for suspicion of.... well... suspicion of secret alliances directed against The Flame and Church recovery goals in the Mournland. They feared the threat had touched The Church from the inside, and at quite high levels. They were right...."

    ===========

    There were four new members of the Mournland Mission Expedition that Waldhorn had been instructed to keep and eye on while performing his camp tending duties. The new Half-Orc cook, who was suspected of poisoning the original Silver Flame Squad Captain, his Sergeant, and a Corporeal. Of lesser interest to the Inquisitor's Office was the old Wizard, Amos Finch, attached to assist in identifying the mysterious artifact the party was attempting to recover from the Mournland. The replacements for the three "plague" stricken Knight Paladins had been appointed from the Angwar Keep Archbishops office, but the Inquisitors had hit a wall of bureaucrats, when attempting to discover their history with the Guard. Waldhorn's contacts in camp had turned out to be already on his most trusted list. First was Carly Higgenbottom, a Knight of the Flame and undercover Inquisitor, eager to share his recent experience as a Knight-in-training with a young boy who expressed great interest. The other was his long time religion mentor and family friend, Friar Rolie Grobaum, a Scholarly Cleric with a surprisingly accepting attitude toward beliefs other than the strict line adhered to by followers of The Silver Flame.

    The mission: Enter the Mournland near Angwar Keep, and make their way south to the location of the city of Eston. Once there, they were to seek out a church just to the east, and recover an artifact from the ruins. The Wizard was to identify and take posession of the artifact, and return it to a committee of Cardnials ruling from The Church in Flamekeep. Waldhorn had seen horrible things once the Dead Gray Mist was penetrated, familiar plants and trees not quite right in form, leaf, or flower, fish and animals with distorted bodies and features, dead citizens and soldiers laying unrotted as they had fallen many years before, and even dead and disfigured people and un-nameable monsters that still walked and fought the living intruders into their twisted space. The Mournland had changed him, deep inside, at the level of his very soul. There had arisen in him a combination of fear and hatred and pity for the walking dead, leading to many nights on guard with Carly, discussing the role of the Hunter of the Dead in this new Treaty Ruled world. Both young men had taken their questions and worries to Friar Rolie, who took the time to encourage and inform.

    The wreckage of the church had been located, several days were invested in clearing the rubble to get to the cellars, and the shout had come up from below that the "thing" was there! Instantly, the Wizard had exploded into spell casting, creating falling orbs of fire to incinerate all around him in the camp. The watched Knights under suspicion had attacked their six companions, catching them unaware and slaughtering the stunned victims. Waldhorn had been right in the middle of the battle, pulling a cart full of rubble from the digging. A falling Knight took him and his cart to the bottom of the pit they were using as a dump site, and more followed immediately to bury him in bleeding bodies. The cart over his head and chest saved him from being crushed under the weight of flesh and plate armor, but his legs were pinned. Unable to move, terrified and confused by the last images of Kinght murdering Knight, fireballs falling to slaughter Friars and camp tenders, smoke and the stench of, blood, spilled guts, and burned flesh filling his nose, the boy was swallowed by darkness.

    Waldhorn awoke with pain from pressure in his legs, and disjointed voices from above that he could only hear in fragments, as more bodies were tossed into the pit above him.

    "... Artifact is intact... gateway... Shadow will...by the Six! ... done it! The Isle... long voyage..."

    The boy had sense enough to lay very still, inspite of the smoldering heat, and his cramped discomfort under the cart at the bottom of a pile of his cruelly betrayed friends bodies. The artifact thieves and betrayers of the Flame apparently thought him dead, and dead he would remain.

    =============

    Waldhorn kept his eyes on his white knuckled hands on the table, unwilling to look into the eyes of his new friends as he admitted his first shame.

    "So, they left, taking the artifact with them. I lay there for hours, in case they came back, or had left someone to make sure no survivors crawled out of the dead pile in the rubble of the church. It was thirst that finally drove me out. Even that took me a great deal of time, though I'm glad it was dark out, so I did not have to see the faces of my friends at I wormed my way past the layers of their bodies."

    "Come now, lad....!" Koryx started to protest, but was stopped by Waldhorn when he held up his hands in a plea.

    "There's more...worse Once I was free of the pile, I stripped my friend Carly of his Plate and weapons, as he was my size. From Friar Rolie, I stole this Dol Arrah ring and this bag of holding where he stored his many manuscripts. The necklace came from the body of one of the other Knights, worn under his armor. I put together a traveling kit from what was left of the abandoned supplies, and set out to make my way back to the Inquisitors Office in Sigilstar. Almost as soon as I started, I cut their trail, and found I was not far behind the murders and thieves... the betrayers. They were headed south for Breland road, and I decided then to follow."

    "Waldhorn, surely you...." Ashja began, clearly upset by his words, but he inturrupted, eager to get it all out in the open at long last.

    "... I decided to follow them, realizing the five of them were clearing the way for me. I stayed close, but not too close. I saw their battles, heard their chatter about the Wizards spells behaving strangely. His flaming stones from the sky... a meteor swarm... that struck our camp, was supposed to be an ice storm spell. The fire spell was something well beyond his capabilities and training, and the experience had left him shaken, afraid to cast anything while in the Mournlands. He wielded his staff as a bludgeon until we exited into Breland at the road."

    "Once out of that horrible place, they were joined by another much younger Wizard and six more Silver Flame Knights, as if they were waiting. Clearly this was a long planned operation. I managed to get close enough to listen to them talk around the fire. I heard them speak of getting to Sharn, and from there to safety on the 'Isle'. Not sure of their intentions, and having no way to know who in the hiarchy of The Church was assisting them, I was now afraid to go to The Flame organization for assistance, and equally afraid of losing them and the mysterious artifact they clearly thought so priceless and critical to the plans of 'the Dark One', or the 'Shadow'. The group were also terrified of failure. Someone... or something... had these betrayers following orders from elsewhere... and I suspected the orders originated from a secret corruption in the upper echelons of The Church itself."

    ==============

    The terrified boy in a Paladin suit continued to follow as best he could. It was just outside of Starilaskar that he finally got a look at himself in a mirror, and discovered the ugly wound healing so slowly on his face was not just a scratch, and that his red hair was now snow white. The Mournlands had left its mark on his outside as well. Those were still things he did not understand, leaving him even more frightened and confused. He followed the betrayers in hastily purchased cloaks to hide his stolen armor, went dressed as a hunter selling game he'd killed on the trail, wandered after them in small towns in the rags of a beggar with a staff supported limp. He was finally forced into trading the armor and weapons to a sleazy Kobold vendor outside of Wroat for much needed coin and proper traveling clothes for the city. The party truly appeared to be heading as fast as they could to Sharn. He held an advantage, in that he could travel faster. The betrayers were in a hurry, but took every opportunity to stay at expensive inns, and rest when they could, due to the poor physical condition of the dried up old Wizard. It was clear that they were well funded, and the conspiracy was wide spread in its reach. The betrayer party had been met from time to time by other Silver Flame people, Friars, Knights, local Church Ministers, and even wealthy businessmen who bowed and scraped before handing over heavy purses.

    They continued to make their way through Breland, south and west along the Sharn highway. Waldhorn went ahead, and spotted a suspicious camp just before First Tower, recognizing the betrayer's supporter similarities in the single wealthy person, with three armed retainers at the side of the road. More coin for the betrayers, and his own purse was almost empty. In the early morning, he knocked out the sleeping guard, and slipped under the back of the tent. A knife to the throat of the very round man in sleeping robes got him a refill for the purse, and another blow to the head got him out of camp free and clear. Waldhorn was amazed to discover he had acquired over a thousand Platinum pieces, and an equal amount of gold. The act of theft, even from an enemy, was disgusting to him, and he found himself deeply ashamed. What if they were not there to give funds to the betrayers? Although it was a foolish and dangerous thing, he waited to see if the betrayers stopped at the camp. When they did, and the four people he'd left alive had been left dead by the betrayers, he knew he had robbed the right camp. Still... what if he'd been wrong?

    He was in Sharn's harbor district not long after the betrayers discovered they had been robbed, and violently expressed their displeasure. He watched them from a gritty ally near the gates as they arrived, then followed as they used the local Gnomish communications to send a message, probably back to Thrane. The entire party waited near-by in a nice Inn. Waldhorn waited behind a stone gargoyle on a roof top near-by. By that afternoon, a reply had been received, and the Wizard went into the bank with an empty purse. He came out with two heavy ones, and they all went directly to the Airship docks via a levitaion lift. Waldhorn followed on the next one, soaring to such a height that the others on board laughed at his obvious distress.

    His stomach turning trip to the sky was for nothing, though. Apparently, they had their own elemental powered airship waiting, and he watched in disgust as all boarded and sailed off into the distance.

    ================

    "I confirmed that the Flame owned ship, Harbringer's Sword, was going direct to Stormreach Harbor, and tried to follow immediately, but the next ship was sold out of space. I had to wait three days for the next launch to get passage. I used the time to visit a Gnomish forger, to acquire false documents from the Sovereign Host, and specifically from the Church of Dol Arrah, for identification and purposes of training."

    "As you know, it took longer than expected to get to Stormreach, but I know the betrayers landed here, and I know they purchased a massive amount of supplies on arrival. I know they were greeted by members of the Local Church of The Flame, and other unidentified city dignitaries. They had allies... maybe accomplices... waiting here. The ship flew off again, destination unknown, except that it had pointed its bow to the northwest. They could have turned in any direction, once out of sight of land. They could be anywhere... mountains, wilderness, ocean, islands...."

    Waldhorn was silent for a long moment, then forced his blue eyes up to meet each of theirs in turn.

    "I've lost them for now, but I intend to keep seeking out information on activities in that direction, listening for rumors of strange occurances, and avoiding agents of The Flame, simply because I do not know who I can trust. The Dark Six are actively working, infiltrating Holy Institutions, murdering innocents, and plotting some horror in isolation. They must be located, confronted, exposed, and defeated. Somehow.... but I cannot do it alone."

    "At any rate, I can't get confirmation of my status as an official Investigator, I can't get sworn as a True Paladin representing any church. I don't have real documents as a Paladin, just these Gnome writ forgeries I acquired in Sharn. They are good, but not that good. The Warforged Torr Oakheart, on the Harbor Docks below the Leaky Dinghy, is the only Paladin Trainer who accepts them without question."

    "So... now you know the truth of my many deceptions, and the root of my failures in duty. In truth, I cannot explain my few successes, nor can Torr, but he has a relaxed approach to his calling, and may have a rather shady background himself. I can only say in his defense, I have learned much from him. I can learn, even if I just adopted the identity I had dreamed of as a child, and allowed the lies to grow to a tower I can no longer support with any honor. I am sorry I hid so much from you all, sorry I behaved in a less than Lawful manner. I call each of you 'friend', it is time I treated you as such."

    Waldhorn sat back and waited, unconciously gripping the finger wearing Rolie's Dol Arrah ring with his free hand, unsure of how his three companions would respond to his story. He was packed, with all he owned leaning against the wall beside his seat and ready to run, just in case one of them did the unthinkable, but he really was not expecting anything so drastic. The worse he forsaw was a chill, and a walling off of their friendship, as he was firmly abandoned, moved back to working alone. Isn't that how you treat someone who gravely betrays their sacred calling, and your heart linked trust?

    =

  12. #52
    Community Member DrowsworD's Avatar
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    Default Koryx - Confessions and Consequences

    Koryx waited – steaming, flustered and about to burst a seam – but he waited until the young knight finished his tale. When it was over, he didn’t give the ladies a chance; he downed his ale and said his peace.

    “That is quite a tale, you bole-wahs, cave-headed, blinder. Ye doubt yerself – ye shouldn’t. Ye doubted us to believe ye, to help ye – ye shouldn’t. I have worked and trained with dull-brained “knights” (he said – or spit – the word as if it tasted like gar-dool) that don’t have half a finger on ye ‘cept a fancy name and fancy armor and fancy … - poss on that. Yer more a knight, more a paladin, than many I have seen raised up by my faith and yours. Believe me, and I know about how the Powers work; if ye weren’t a paladin in the eyes of yours, we would all be dead, ‘cause ye kept us alive more than ye know.

    So, I say enuff o’ this pally-wishin, ‘oh I’m not a real one’ goblin-dool. Own what ye got man; ye got the faith from a Power, ye got yer arms and armor, ye got yer friends – least ways from me. I can help ye, maybe the ladies too” – giving each an eye to see where they might stand.

    “It is a great bad thing ye have discovered; powerful people, money, the Church of Flame – or the Flamin’ Church – as we used to call them” he laughs. “But we can sniff around here, find out who was contacted in StormReach, maybe pick up a lead or three.”

    Koryx downed his ale again – the girl here was keeping him well supplied – and stuck out his hand to Waldhorn. As the paladin reached to take it, Koryx saluted him, arm across his chest, fist on heart. “My blade is your blade.”
    Last edited by DrowsworD; 09-24-2014 at 08:01 PM.

  13. #53
    Community Member Aeryyn's Avatar
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    Default Ashja: Confessions and Reactions

    Ashja was glad to see Curissa when she came into the common room. The unusual part was not seeing Curissa make a grand entrance. Instead, the elf slipped quietly into her usual chair at the table where Koryx and Ashja sat.

    "Good morning," said Curissa. "Thank you for coming to my rescue."

    "At least you weren't being held in a sewer," grinned Koryx with a wink.

    "The sewers pay better," Ashja shot back with an answering wink. "But I'm glad you're alright, Curissa." She reached out and gave the elf's slim hand a short squeeze.

    Ashja wondered where Waldhorn was just as he entered the tavern with what appeared to be all of his belongings. She noticed his unease, almost as if he were afraid to approach the company. Puzzled, Ashja watched him slowly approach the table, a weak smile on his weary face.

    "Hello, Waldhorn!" Koryx shouted a greeting.

    "Waldhorn!" Curissa smiled up at the big Paladin, blue sparkles of energy dancing over the skin of her arms and hands.

    "Are you okay?" Ashja asked, concerned.

    "Hail and a grand morning to each of you!" Ashja saw the strain in the big man's smile. "Well... perhaps I've had better days, as I fear I have to give you information I've held secret for much too long. I owe you the truth, and the chance to decide for yourselves how to act on it."

    "The truth?" asked Curissa eagerly.

    Ashja shot the elf a sharp glance, she could be so shallow at times. Couldn't Curissa see that whatever Waldhorn had to say was going to be very hard for him to say.

    "The truth is..." And the words tumbled from his lips.

    When he finished, there was only stunned silence at the table for a brief moment. Then Koryx downed his mug of ale and gave Waldhorn a piece of his mind. He pretty much said what Ashja was thinking. More than once, Waldhorn had saved her life or healed her battle wounds. He had the touch of the divine, it simply oozed from the big man.

    She had been in the presence of a Paladin of the Flame once and remembered well the aura surrounding Sir Duncan Moore. Waldhorn's aura was much cleaner and more clear than that of Sir Duncan. Being in the presence of Sir Duncan had made her skin crawl.

    **********
    Ashja shivered as the wind cut through the thin fabric of the practice uniform that hung from her thin frame as she stood in rank and file with the rest of the initiates as they performed their morning exercises. She hated this time of year. When the days grew shorter and the cold nights grew longer. She hated having to crawl from under the warm blanket and put her feet on the icy stone floor every morning. It felt like the only time she was warm was when she was asleep -- she didn't notice the cold when she was asleep.

    She moved with the rest of her class, her muscles slowly warming in the chill morning air, her breath leaving a fine mist that dissipated quickly in the weak sunlight. As the exercise flow increased, she began to sweat. As they reached the peak of the exercise, Ashja heard a commotion behind the line of students. The flow ceased and the class stood spellbound as a Paladin of the Flame rode into the exercise yard.

    His armor gleamed and he appeared to radiate a soft glow in the early morning light. As the young half-elf watched the glow that surrounded the Paladin, she thought she saw a hint of darkness dance across the aura. At the same time she saw the shadow flicker across the Paladin, he looked at her. Ashja shivered as she looked quickly down, praying he hadn't seen her watching him. What did I just see? She shivered again as a gust of wind blew through the yard.

    **********
    "Waldhorn, Koryx is right," Ashja said after a moment. "If you were an imposter in the eyes of Dol Arrah, we would all be dead right now. As far as I'm concerned, you are more a Paladin than any Flame-ite Paladin out there." The half-elf shrugged apologetically as she caught the look Waldhorn gave her at the slur.

    Ashja signaled the serving girl for another round of drinks for the table.

    "Besides," the half-elf continued, "it looks to me like Dol Arrah herself has sent you on a quest. And has provided you with companions to help you complete it. I suggest you not let her down."

  14. #54
    2015 DDO Players Council Hazelnut's Avatar
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    Default Curissa: Confessions and reactions

    Once the others had expressed their feelings to Waldhorn, Curissa leaned across the table and gave the big man a hug. She then gently pried his white knuckled fingers from the edge of the table and held them in hers as she spoke.

    “Waldhorn … I mean Sir Waldhorn, each of us have our secrets that we haven’t shared. You saved my life more than once when I foolishly rushed into danger”, Curissa paused and blushed at admitting her own foolishness, “and you used divine magic more than once to do so. I can’t say I understand the ways of the Divine spirit but great-grandmother says that the true nature of the Divine is beyond any mortal understanding and that anyone who claims a true understanding is either lying or deluded.”

    Curissa again paused and glanced at Koryx with an apologetic look before turning back to Waldhorn as she realized she just insulted two of her friends religious beliefs, “That is to say, while The Flame and Dol Arrah make it possible to have a conduit to the Divine spirit, great-grandmother taught me that they are not the only way that the Divine chooses to work. If there is corruption in a church, the Divine spirit may need another conduit to work through. One that is not corrupt. The Elves, or most of us, follow the teachings of the Undying Court. The Undying Court is made up of our ancestors. Ancestors that are kept alive by the grace of the Divine spirit. The Court are our religious leaders and a conduit to the Divine spirit. They grant powers of the Divine to our clerics and are revered by elves. So, if the Divine spirit can work through my ancestors, then surely it can work through my friend if it so chooses.”

    Waldhorn’s blue eyes met Curissa’s violet eyes as she finished her speech. His hands now relaxed in Curissa’s own, she gently put his hands back on the table and waited; hoping the worry on his face would also relax.

    When at last, Waldhorn’s expression relaxed and turned to friendship, Curissa excitedly announced to the group, “You know, those pirates that held me couldn’t keep their mouths shut about a treasure hidden on the island and I got a look at the treasure map” with a twinkle in her eye, “and there’s no sewers involved.”
    Last edited by Hazelnut; 10-11-2014 at 11:58 AM.
    Zyinniah Hazelnut and Curissa Hazelnut on most servers.

  15. #55
    2015 DDO Players Council Hazelnut's Avatar
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    Default Treasure Hunt

    Ashja and Koryx turned their heads turned to Curissa as they both said, "Treasure?".

    ************

    Curissa sat on the rock where the pirate crew kept her tied up. She ate a bowl of some sort of mush they gave her while three of the crew watched with swords drawn and pointed at her. As she ate carefully avoiding the bruise she had on her left cheek Captain Dustdyn walked over from the big bonfire the rest of the crew had built. He looked at his men and said, "I'll watch her, you go."

    Two of the men started to walk away, the third gave his captain a questioning look. Dustdyn sneered, "she won't do anything. Will you girl?" Curissa nodded knowing they would re-capture her before she even got out of their camp.

    Dustdyn sat by the meager fire they had made to keep Curissa from freezing at night and passed a half empty tankard of some ale to Curissa. He took a swig from his own while he watched his men leave. When they were gone he pulled out a word scrap of leather with a crude map on it and looked at it.

    After a time he turned to Curissa, "There is a story about a lost treasure on this island. Fact is, there are probably many lost treasures hidden on this island but I have a map to one of them." Dustdyn grinned and continued, "a long time ago, when those arrogant 'coin lords' of Stormreach were nothing more than pirates themselves, there was a great pirate called Two-Toed Tobias. Tobias used Three Barrel Cove as his hideout. When the coin lords turned on him he hid his treasure somewhere on this island. And I've got his map."

    Curissa gave Dustdyn a questioning look. She figured if she actually said anything he would hit her before she had a chance to complete even one word in case she was trying to cast a spell.

    Dustdyn replied, "You wonder why I'm telling you? Well, your friends haven't come to pay the ransom yet. That means either I kill you or I find a use for you and I have use for you. You see there are markings on this map, words I cannay read. You're educated. If you can read'em and we find the treasure, I'll let you go."

    Curissa put down the tankard and extended her hands, still bound together, out toward Dustdyn. He passed her the map. Carefully she tilted the scrap of leather to get more light from the fire.

    "Do you understand the writing?"

    Curissa frowned and continued to try and read it. The letters were faded and the handwriting was atrocious. It didn't help that the words were written in a language that Curissa didn't know, although it was similar to Draconic. Curissa nodded to Dustdyn hesitantly.

    "Well, spit it out", Dustdyn growled.

    Quietly Curissa began, "It's hard to read. I don't know the language". Dustdyn growled at her as Curissa continued quickly, "but I recognize some of the roots of word..."

    "What good is that?"

    "I believe the writing at the bottom says the entrance is under water and it is west of something. There are numbers but I don't know what they signify", Curissa pointed to the writing at the bottom of the map.

    "Aye, those are navigation terms. So... 23 fathoms east. But east of what"?

    "I don't know, but that word there, I think it means 'bay' or 'cove'".

    "Hmmf, this island has 8 coves. and most of them have been claimed by some group of pirates or another".

    ************

    Curissa finished her story and looked at her friends with a smile, "I think the map also said that the cove was on the south side of the island, but I didn't mention that to Dustdyn."
    Zyinniah Hazelnut and Curissa Hazelnut on most servers.

  16. #56
    Community Member Aeryyn's Avatar
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    Default Ashja: Treasure!

    "Treasure!" exclaimed Ashja and Koryx in unison. "Ah, but does it pay as well as the sewers?" Ashja asked, winking at Koryx.

    "If the pirates weren't exaggerating," Curissa responded, "better."

    "Ha!" Koryx exclaimed. "They're pirates, of course they were exaggerating!"

    "Well, I'm game anyway," said Ashja. "I'm kind of liking the sea air and roaming the beaches. How about you, Waldhorn?"

    Waldhorn looked at the young half-elf in astonishment. "Y..y..y..you still want me with you?"

    "Of course we do, you big lummox!" shouted Koryx. "Haven't ye been listenin'?"

    **********
    After the revelation about Sigurd and Evyn, and after the theft of the box, Master Henrick pushed the caravan toward Hatheril. He wondered if the events were somehow connected. He needed to find his contact in Hatheril and report these events back to the family. They will want to know about Sigurd's death as well as the theft and recovery of the box.

    Roland and Ashja sent their forward scouts even further ahead, wary of more traps like the one encountered after leaving Starilaskur.

    About a week after leaving Starilaskur, the caravan master called Ashja to his wagon.

    "I've been contemplatin' on how much to tell ye, lass," Master Henrick started. "And I decided ye need to know the truth, or at least those parts I am allowed to tell ye."

    Helga brought a tray of tea, set it down on the low table, and sat on the cushion next to Master Henrick.

    "I canna' tell ye everything, because it's family business, but ye need ta know that we are transportin' a, er..." the caravan master stumbled.

    "We're transportin' a wedding gift to Henrick's sister in Sharn," said Helga quickly, with a sidelong glance at her husband.

    "The Flame-ites have been wantin' ta get their hands on this item fer nigh on a century now," said Master Henrick. "Which is why I'm carrying it secretly."

    "I see," said Ashja. She had a feeling that was a cover story, but was willing to take their story at face value.

    **********
    "So, Curissa, do you think you can draw the map?" Ashja asked.

  17. #57
    Community Member Fricko's Avatar
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    Default

    =

    Meditative Fuel:


    "Treasure!" exclaimed Ashja and Koryx in unison. "Ah, but does it pay as well as the sewers?" Ashja asked, winking at Koryx.

    "If the pirates weren't exaggerating," Curissa responded, "better."

    "Ha!" Koryx exclaimed. "They're pirates, of course they were exaggerating!"

    "Well, I'm game anyway," said Ashja. "I'm kind of liking the sea air and roaming the beaches. How about you, Waldhorn?"

    Waldhorn looked at the young half-elf in astonishment. "Y..y..y..you still want me with you?"

    "Of course we do, you big lummox!" shouted Koryx. "Haven't ye been listenin'?"

    "I..." Waldhorn began, but realized their attention was now past his self-doubts, and deeply into the treasure hunt.

    "So, Curissa, do you think you can draw the map?" Ashja asked.

    "Gambling is not an activity that I usually encourage, but...," here Waldhorn tossed a wink at Koryx, "I would take a bet on that proving true, were it to be offered to me!"

    Curissa gave a sheepish smile, cheeks glowing pink as they all chuckled.

    Waldhorn fished parchment, pen and sealed traveling ink well from the pack at his feet, placing them before the young Sorceress.

    "Don't look so surprised that I have such near to hand, I was expecting to be taking to the road, with all I owned in that pack today." Waldhorn gave them a sheepish smile of his own, to a renewed round of chuckles and laughter.

    For now, he put aside his troubled conscience. The words of his friends meant more to him than they had allowed him opportunity to express. Surprisingly, those words had also provided the light of wisdom to shine into a very dark place, giving him such a lift in spirit that it was all he could do to maintain his excitement. He had much food for thought, and enlightened fuel for his meditations tonight.

    =

  18. #58
    2015 DDO Players Council Hazelnut's Avatar
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    Default The Endless Night (the Halloween episode)

    It was a dark and stormy night in Barrels Bottom. The wind howled through the rafters of the Salty Wench Tavern and the small fire in the hearth sputtered weakly. Four people huddled around a table close to the fire. They were the only people left in the common room; all the others had left early in hopes of avoiding the storm that blew in off the Thunder Sea.

    The elf with raven hair spoke in hushed tones ...

    * * * * * * * * * *

    Dread pirate Captain Tobias Warbuckle, sailed the Thunder Sea in ages past. His tactics were so vicious that ships would turn over there cargo at just the mention of his name. He control his crew the same way. His crew, even his first mate, feared and hated Tobias.

    On the night of Mabar with no moon in the sky, at exactly midnight, as the ship lay quiet in a secret anchorage hidden inside a cavern of an unnamed island Cervantes, Tobias' first mate, snuck into the captain's quarters with a poisoned dagger with darkness in his heart enough to rival Tobias' own. Cervantes made a prayer to the dark six before violently driving the dagger into Tobias' chest; ending his prayer and cursing his former captain for all eternity.

    Tobias sat up and stared at Cervantes with dead eyes. With his last breath, Tobias swore, "You shall never have my treasure, vile traitor."

    Cervantes returned and evil grin to the corpse, "Fear not Captain, You may keep your precious treasure but you will no-longer command this crew. We are finally free of you."

    Before the sun rose in the sky, Cervantes and those loyal to him buried the corpse under a pile of gold and jewels deep in a hidden cave.

    As they left they set traps and locked doors. They sealed the last gate shut just as the sun began to rise. A horrible howling echoed throughout the cave. Rocks fell from the ceiling killing Cervantes and the men with with. The howling ended with a haunting whisper, "you will never be free of me..."

    * * * * * * * * * *

    Bright elf eyes turned slowly to her companions as she ended the story, "That nameless island is this one, now called Three Barrel Cove."

    Ashja looked back at Curissa, "You call that a scary story?"
    Last edited by Hazelnut; 11-12-2014 at 09:38 AM.
    Zyinniah Hazelnut and Curissa Hazelnut on most servers.

  19. #59
    Community Member Aeryyn's Avatar
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    Default Ashja: Nightmares

    "You call that a scary story?" Ashja asked as Curissa finished her tale. "That wasn't nearly as scary as the dream I had the other night."

    **********
    The air in the final chamber was icy. Every breath threatened to freeze in my lungs. My damp clothes stiffened with the blast of cold. My fingers too numb to nock an arrow, I drew my blades praying to Dol Dorn that the cold would not make the metal so brittle it would shatter.

    We had found the entrance to the tomb with easily enough. The tough part had been getting to it. I almost drowned before reaching the first air pocket.

    Inside the underwater network of caves, the air was heavy and oppressive. The musty stench of death long past assaulted my nostrils. Wails reverberated through the complex network of caverns, sending tendrils of dread down my spine. I felt eyes watching us from the shadows, but when I illuminated the shadows, they were empty. The sensations intensified the deeper into the caverns we trekked.

    I slunk through the tunnels and caverns, careful of my footing, the sense of impending disaster stealing into my guts. I felt my companions behind me, a familiar and reassuring. But malevolence trailed them. Sweating despite the cold, I led us to our doom.

    We swam and we crept through the tunnels, the treasure beckoned us, evil pushed us forward. The warm waters of the cove were well behind us now. We had entered the chamber rumored to be the tomb of the infamous pirate, Captain Tobias Warbuckle.

    The cold deepened. My muscles became sluggish. My movements became slower. My lungs crackled with every breath. Whatever possessed us to enter the tomb of Captain Tobias on the night of Mabar I will never know.

    **********
    "Then I woke up," Ashja finished. "And I was freezing. Somehow my blanket ended up on the floor, and there I was in just my small clothes."

  20. #60
    2015 DDO Players Council Hazelnut's Avatar
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    Default Guild rules question

    I know we have based our guild on the THAC0 rules, at least those that were documented. We have made a few changes for the sake of simplicity and for the sake of our story. I'm curious about something and would like opinions from the group (plus I think Intruder reads this thread and this might get him to chime in).

    With the upcoming disabling of the Anniversary Card Cruncher (the thing that turns the D&D Anniversary trading cards in DDO into useful in-game items) I'm wondering what our rule should be on using the +3 Stat tomes and +2 Skill tomes?

    Since we all now need to convert our conveniently packages bag of trading cards into things that mostly don't stack with each other, inventory has become a bit of a problem (at least for one character per server). The +3 Stat tomes become usable at level 11 and the skill tomes somewhat sooner.

    Should we allow any of these to be used? Should we put some limits on them? Should we ban their use by guild members?
    Zyinniah Hazelnut and Curissa Hazelnut on most servers.

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