The Crimson Moon (storyline)/Chapter 3 (summary)

Hope Springs Anew

01/05/2013 11:47 AM CST

A silvery crack of light has appeared in the domineering crimson glow of Lornon, growing since the defeat of the V'tullian Champion Carhn and the destruction of his totem through the dilligent efforts of our community. Fissures of light splinter off from this rift forming in the deep red glow. Is the Lornonite faction dissolving? Has Azorlok's absence given us an opening to seize somehow?

Join me tonight, at 10 elven in front of the Temple in Wehnimer's Landing, to discuss what has already unfolded and perhaps discuss how we might prepare ourselves for the unknown circumstances which will inevitably surround Azorlok's return. Come, if you are not entirely aware of what has taken place, so you can ask and learn of everything that has unfolded thus far. This silvery light is cause for hope, and I am at your disposal whenever needed to discuss what has taken place and answer questions. Perhaps this evening, as a community, we can find ways to protect and serve one another as we go forward.

Ever your comrade and servant, Lord Myke Naii'Mos.

Shanty Town Rebirth

01/14/2013 05:40 PM CST

The Explanation - Due to an insufficient retaining wall, overflow from the river has long made the southeastern corner of Wehnimer's Landing a veritable mud pit where only the town's poor were willing to live for lack of other options. This long-overlooked tragedy has only grown more noticeable after many invasions and the attacks of Azorlok and his allies on the town have increased the number of homeless and orphans forced to dwell in insufficient living conditions.

The Solution - It is time we came together as a community and did away with shanty town. Wehnimer's Landing should not be a town divided by class or quality of life. To this end, a number of adventurer's put together a plan to repair and reinforce the retaining wall and make necessary changes to the area so that the homeless will be cared for, the orphans educated, and the town united. This includes a number of efforts:

- Construction of new homes and a reinforced retaining wall to replace existing shanties and huts.

- Construction of the Ivory Home, a proper schoolhouse for the town and a home for the towns orphans and homeless.

- Construction of a market stall and limited livestock pens to grow and sell basic vegetables and rolton wool clothing. The goal to is to give the town's displaced a means of self-sufficiency and a livelihood.

- Construction of a new park, a place for the children to play and the townsfolk to gather and bask in a sense of community.

- The hiring of additional guards to man the gates, freeing up adventurers to handle the threats.

- The reinforcement of the towns walls and gates, a long overdue effort to make the frequently assaulted town more secure.

A Morning Later

01/19/2013 10:03 AM CST

The pelt hunt had been a success all things considered, Myke mused to himself as he made his way along the south ring road headed east. A paper-wrapped bundle crunched away with each step, tucked safely under his arm. As he arrived in Shanty Town near the large metal donation bin for foodstuffs he made his way up to a large wooden cart nearby and pushed back some of the craggy grey stones and wooden-handled tools sitting there and set the package down. Before he had even begun unbundling it, some of the locals already hard at work for the morning began to trickle over to greet him.

Smiling back at the others as they trickled over he simply nodded and began to speak, "Well last night was quite the success, we raised another fifty thousand for the construction effort when all was said and done. I thought to celebrate I'd bring you all a hearty breakfast and help sort through the pelts we brought in." Pulling the twine wrapping away from the package by simply gripping it with both hands and popping it with his considerable strength, he pulled the paper swaddling away to reveal even more paper wrappings! This time however, he picked one up and peeled it back to reveal a freshly made mutton sandwich that he started passing out.

"There you go, everybody come grab one I brought a lot. We'll put the leftovers in the bins for the others that aren't awake yet." A mop-topped ginger halfling child and a scrawny blonde human child ran up, shoving each as they went. A taller brown-haired giantman boy ran up behind them moments later. Excited to see the Knight returning, they each grabbed up a sandwich when their turn came, looking more and more silly with the large sandwich as they went down the height line to the little halfling child whose sandwich was the size of his head. Messily devouring their meal, they sat while Myke regailed them with details of the hunt the night prior; Drud and Brynne's skilled archery, Breli's mighty flamberge, Markken darting about in the shadows, Rhyssa's power magics and Saska's talented skinning. They were overjoyed to hear that even Koar's very own Beinion and the Lord Marshal Jaired (retired Lord Marshal, that is) were there.

Their meals, and impromptu story time, complete, Myke gave the kids a pat on the head and gestured with a familiar wave to a trio of teenagers that were already waiting for him when he arrived at the large covered bin to begin sorting the pelts. A dwarven boy, a human girl, and a sylvan boy waited for him with arms folded, turning from their discussion amongst themselves to beam at him bright and expectant. "Bolivar, Teress, Yand, it's good to see you. Have you been practicing?" To this the boys immediately scowled and the girl let out an audible huff.

"With what, sticks? The sticks always break and then we end up spending more time looking for branches than we do actually practicing what you showed us!" Inwardly Myke fought off the grin, their swordplay might not be coming along but their firewood stocking was top notch. Opting to set aside his scheming to get the strong-willed teens to do their share he nodded and reached into the bin to produce a wooden short sword to Bolivar, and a wooden two-handed sword to Yand. Tess had already begun to huff and make some sort of whining noise in the bridge of her nose that only teenage girls are capable of producing when Myke drew out a black-painted short sword and tossed it to her as well. Immediately (as teenage girls are apt to do) her disgruntled noises changed to borderline-shrill noises of excitement and the declaration, "My favorite color, too!" And so the next hour or so was spent once more going over the basics, only the most rudimentary of responsible weapon management and stances. When all was said and done, the trio were put to the task of aiding him in sorting the many gathered pelts and bundling them up proper with some extra twine to 'pay' for their lessons.

Another Morning Later

01/20/2013 10:53 AM CST

Sleeping in was a rare luxury, typically the crest of the sun over a windowsill or nearby line of trees was enough to remind him that there was work to be done. This morning however, he had spent the night out stalking the wilds of Teras on a cliff overlooking the dark palisade. The Luukosians there had been vengeful over his presence, abducting children and the like, even going so far as to falsify a bounty to find one of their own signet rings just to lure him back and spring an ambush. Clearly, they had not been successful, but neither had he. An evening spent stalking the wilds had turned up no clues, nothing of value to their movements, and so it was not until late the next morning that he groggily peeked open an eye.

Staggering into the park, he was met by Shadegrey and the notification of a fresh round of donations that could not be ignored. Trudging across town he felt himself straighten his posture and square his shoulders, even at his most fatigued he wished to present no casual weakness to the people of the town. He wished for his presence to inspire hope. As such he maintained a noble air as best he could around them, one that was only allowed to melt away after a bit of socializing or playing with the children. To this end, he began matters by letting out a sharp whistle upon his arrival and calling out to the kids playing all throughout the corners of shanty town.

"Alright kids, now, Lady Talryssa was kind enough to bring you a very special surprise. Is everyone ready?" Little squeals and cheers permeated the bouncing, bounding mass of youth as they began to practically froth with excitement. Myke could feel a halfling child scaling his leg even as he spoke and glanced down with a chuckle. Peeling back the covering on the lid of the donation bin, it practically overflowed with toys! The children went absolutely berserk, gathering up armfuls until they were corrected that they each got to pick only one for now.

Within minutes there were all across the area playing happily with their new toys. One boy seemed entirely too thrilled to have a slightly disturbing two-headed stuffed turtle toy he was already in the process of pushing through the mud while roaring for some reason. A little girl hugging a tattered Helga doll and treating it like her very own (ugly) baby. A tall red toy crystal golem was clutched in another little boy's hands, stomping through the dirt and making crashing noises as it swung club-like arms at a little girl's winged pink pig that was flying past, causing her to whine and run off. Many more children trotted about happily playing with stuffed ponies, monstrous rolton toys, and more.

The opening gave Myke time to gather up the stack of composite bows piled high near the bin and sling them all over one shoulder clear down to the wrist. "Must be at least ten bows here.. Hmmm," he mused to himself before setting off in the direction of the town barracks. "I think I know what to do with these." Popping in to visit the clothier for a moment, he managed to procure a length of scrap cloth to bind the bows together and some papyrus for a note. In the end, the pile of bows was left for the town guard with a note, "Bows for archery training and active use. The town guard could use some ranged training."

"Now if we could reinforce the walls with spikes to keep creatures like the Grimswarm from climbing over and getting into town, we could build a walkway behind the wall for the sake of building those spikes, and keep them for the town guard to not only keep watch from, but use their bows from.."

Yet another goal in mind, he headed back for the park..

The Search Continues...

01/22/2013 12:34 PM CST

Standing atop the western slope of the Dragonspine Mountains he gazed out over the Elven Nations. Past the icy tundra he could barely make out the trees of Cysaegir. With stoic resolve he ignored the icy cold, the nervousness which he always felt in landlocked places and set out toward his destination.

Searching through the wilds he stopped a moment upon a rocky outcropping overlooking a vast canyon. The soft padding of his footfalls echoed back at him from the canyon walls on the edge of perception. A smile played upon his face as he looked out over his unseen audience. "Echo!" he belted out. A few moments passed.. "Echo" came the response.

A feeling of hope and desperation came over him, "My name is Master Drud Ashlin, Captain of the BixBite! I seek the Seer Yuratlya. The Avatar of Sheru walks among us and will cast our world into darkness if we fail!" The echo responded... then just as he was about to turn and leave Ahoy! came echoing back. Resolved that his plea hadn't fell on deaf ears he continued onward searching until he reached Cysaegir.

Fatigue and world weary he traveled to Rivers Rest and among friends in the commons, he afforded himself a short nap to quench his exhaustion. He woke and as he shook off the last vestiges slumber, he swore he could hear a faint howl from somewhere. Listening closely he could hear another howl answering the first. Another howl caught his ears. The barking and yipping of it almost reminded him of laughing.

Howl after howl echoed in his ears. Then a harsh voice, "You sought to know where she is...and you were heard..."

A pack of jet black snarling jackals paded into the area, slavering hungrily! They leaped forth and the battle ensued. He stood confident, his comrade Bet in the shadows watching his back. Arrow after arrow the Jackals were felled. The voice screeched, "Rip them apart! Teach them for their arrogance!"

In response the jackals bit down on his hand mangling it. The voice screeched, eagerness plain in its tone, "Yes! Rend his flesh! Bite and rip it apart!" Stoked by rage his insides came to a boil, "Cowards show yourselves! Release the Seer!" He concentrated on focusing his thoughts to his ward, "Isanae I need your help I've been wounded."

The voice laughed, "Yes, fear for her life! You will not find her. She is ours." His ward arrived and more arrows flew the jackals were all slain and lay about in a decomposing heap. The screeching voice howled, "You may have slain these, but our pack is countless! And you will never find her."

Gripped with anger he belted out, "I will find her, I won't let you hurt her, my family, or my loved ones!" In response the screeching voice whisper into his ears, "And yet you fear that we will." Deep down he did fear they would, but that fear was the resolve which pushed him forward through the fatigue. Although it wasn't just the Seer he sought, not wanting to tip his hand he kept silent.

The whispering tone of the voice filled his ears once more, "Seek all you wish. We are watching you try and fail. And we know your fears, your delicious fears. Slumber well..."

Cracking the Crimson Moon

02/08/2013 02:41 AM CST

Lectoria, a local seamstress, dropped by to talk and do work for people in the park. The matter of the Crimson Moon was discussed for a while, and Lectoria offered a few insights. Lornonite cultists visit her shop on occasion, and she heard them discuss the recently kidnapped seer Yuratlya, saying that she would never be found.

Lectoria also reported on a rumor that Azorlok may be falling from power, something about the "three" not showing up. Suspicion amongst the adventurers is that it refers to the three Sheruvian avatars that were supposed to awake, according to the prophecy known as the Dark Requiem. Azorlok is the first, but thus far the others have not been forthcoming. Some adventurers also suspect that Azorlok may become frustrated or desperate at seeing his power slip away.

It is speculated amongst adventurers that the reason why Azorlok has been unable to wake the other avatars is because he has yet to find an artifact associated with the Ur-Daemons, which may provide the power necessary. When some expressed an interest in locating the object to keep it from Azorlok, Lectoria became rather adamant that "some things should not be found by anyone."

After Lectoria left, Drud, Myke and Nilandia ventured out to explore some locations that seemed interesting. They ended up at a farmhouse in Upper Trollfang, having noted that a makeshift crimson altar was found on the road not too far away. Drud had found the place before and had found an empty bucket that had contained poison in the shed. Tonight, their moving about had woken the home's residents, and a man appeared at the door, looking none too pleased about being up at that hour.

Drud, Myke and Nilandia all explained their purpose for being there, and the man rather curtly said that he had no problems other than jackals and people tramping over his crops, and cultists having stolen poison from his shed to use in the blight. He left to go back to bed, and the three retreated to deal with the altar.

Baskets of burning herbs surrounded the area, giving off an intoxicating vapor the cultists use to keep their victims from being able to move while they are being sacrificed. Nilandia gathered samples of these herbs for later study. Drud and Myke set on the altar itself, Myke bashing at it with mighty swings of his maul and Drud burning through it with vials of powerful acid. Nilandia joined them shortly after, summoning fire to burn the wooden parts to ash. It wasn't long before the altar lay in a smoldering ruin at their feet.

Myke then reconsecrated the area to Lorminstra and Voln. A chill wind answered, scattering the remnants of the altar so that only a darkened patch of earth could testify that anything had stood there. Clouds gathered over the area and rain began to fall, though oddly only in that small area. The rain extinguished the burning herbs, which Nilandia cast to the winds. Around the world, a few more fissures were seen in the moon, cracks to allow silvery light to escape behind the crimson.

It was noticed that each event that coincided with a crack appearing in the crimson moon had been driven by adventurers: the killing of Carhn, the cure for the blight, and the destruction of the altar near the Landing. With that realization, hope rose that the fight against the Lornonites could be won after all.

The Cold Touch of Brass

02/12/2013 07:42 PM CST

His search brought him all across Elanthia, He'd seen corpses scattered throughout the land. Each one he scrutinized noting the size and length of decay. None he found could have been the Seer. He braved Troll Kings, Harbingers of the Jackal, and massive constructs of flesh, mein, ice, lava, and even wind. He fought back the terror in his throat at the sound of the banshee screams and dodged the glaesen shards let loose by Pyrothrags, yet he found no task so hard as that of living with the guilt he felt at letting the small frail gnome be abducted right under his nose.

The foliage taunted him, the limbs of great trees seemed to creak with secret knowledge. Each day as he resumed his search he made a short diversion. To an old brass relic which lay in ruin amongst the remains of an old fishing village. He would sit and let his mind wander as his fingers brushed the shrine for luck. The brass seemed smoothed over by the grit of those before him. Countless hands had run their course over the smooth brass shrine, and each time he wondered what it knew of them. "What did the brass know?" he'd wonder out loud.

Did it know of the outcropping that listened to his voice, or the canyon walls that mocked him with his own words? Did it know of the Lost mines, the wrecked hulk, or the panels in the sea caves of Voranavis depicting the slaughter, yet another travesty lost to history. Did it know of the buttons upon the poor skeleton that lay in the chilling dungeons of Darkstone Castle, for they too were brass does the brass know itself. How many times had that doomed foot soldier rubbed his own brass buttons as he set out each day. What luck did they hold for him? Each time he graced the cool metal he searched for the answer, yet each time it eluded him again.

After a sitting with a local seamstress he'd lost his resolve, she'd seemed to him to be in the know. Assuredly her clientele served both the crimson plague as well as Liabo's Champions. Her knowing words seemed to sap any hope he had left of freeing himself of the torturous guilt he carried. He confided in his fellows, those who'd bothered to aid him upon his task. He shared with them his hope that he had found where the artifact has fallen and was buried. Visiting the site to survey it the all wondered "what if" and resigned that without the proper tools there'd be no knowing. On their return they visited the farm and had some sense of accomplishment in destroying an altar set forth to honor the jackal or one of his allies.

More cracks in the moon, were they winning? The dead children of Vaalor wouldn't think so. Nor the King.. not even royalty escaped the gaze of the crimson. He'd stood at Victory Gate slaying jackal after jackal, the pack slinked in as unyielding as the great oceans waves. He saw the red eyes in the shadows. What of the family curse, did the brass know? Thinking back to the red eyed elf he'd wondered if Onar hadn't been able to find purchase in his mind. With a shudder he felt spared as he'd contemplated the fate of the Vaalorian traitor. Now having lost the will to carry on the search for the seer he still finds himself weighed down under his burdens, every so often still brushing his fingers upon the listing brass shrine wondering what it knows...

Things That Go Howl in the Night

03/05/2013 12:20 AM CST

Several nights ago a cold wind blew through Upper Trollfang, swirled amongst the grass of Lower Dragonsclaw, and shook the leaves of the Dragonsclaw Forest. The wind struck the gates of the town of Wehnimer's Landing, and on it came the call of a long, lone howl. On this night there was neither the end nor the beginning to this saga of the Crimson Moon, but it was a beginning of a bloody night.

As brave adventurers ventured forth into the night to find the source of these howls, they were beset upon by vicious coyotes and rabid dogs. Blood was quickly shed as these beasts were struck down, and more howls quickly rose in response. Soon deadly lupines joined the fray, accompanied by dark wolves. As teeth and blades struck upon flesh and armor, battle opened throughout Upper Trollfang. As more valiant adventurers joined the fray, so did more lupines, better armed and more dangerous than previously seen. Soon the howls of the night echoed through the Dragonsclaw Forest, and more adventurers found themselves fending off the ravenous beasts.

As the night wore on, bloodshed and death struck both sides of the battle. As a few remaining bloodied defenders held field against the night, howls and growls echoed around them. Some spoke of one growling voice in particular that was heard, and claimed to have taunted the defenders for the actions and failings that night. And then as the wind had blown in and brought with it howls and bloodshed, it blew away and left the night silent. One last growl broke the silence, stating what had been done this night, and leaving the question of what is yet to come. And the adventurers and defenders of the town of Wehnimer's Landing were left standing, stained crimson in the pale moonlight...

In Night's Embrace

03/05/2013 11:49 PM CST

Eyes narrowed, He stood over the prone and sleeping form of the frail gnome, her frame wrapped in stained robes as she lay unconscious upon the stone slab provided for her. A low chuckle escaped him for a moment, and then he raised his gaze, glancing about at the posted jackals whom served as guards for the seer. As he laid an affectionate hand upon the nearest beast's head, his smile faded and became a scowl. The only guards he had with him were the jackals. No other Champion had offered protection for the lair and the significance of this was not lost upon the Avatar. Azorlok knew that the whispers were being traded amongst his fellows regarding the cracks in the crimson moon's bloody surface. He knew that the rumors were slithering their way through the followers of those Champions he called his allies. And he suspected that soon, he may have to show a sign of force to boost his position amongst his allies in order to keep them by his side. Their unity was his power, and he was fully aware of what the loss of even one more would do. The V'tullian loss had played a large enough part in the setbacks he had experienced already.

Yes, he was alone in this lair and the silence, and emptiness, was quite stark to the Avatar. However, he did have her... and his gaze fell once more upon the seer's prone form, now in a coma-like state due to the deep power of the sleep inflicted upon her by his Patron. She would not be freeing anyone else from His inflience, at least that much was certain. This gave him cause to grin once more, and he brightened considerably. There was still time. Time to raise them at his side, so that they could be three. Time to find what they had sought so badly to complete the prophecy. Time to reclaim the power he once wielded amongst his fellows, and gain their power yet again. Yes, time was on his side in this endeavor. He pushed aside the thoughts of all that might not be on his side, in favor of this.

Painting the Town Red

03/09/2013 04:12 PM CST

Naja's animated recounting of the havoc created in Icemule Trace by the Mulariosian Champion caused him to chuckle, his eyes bright with interest and pleasure at the horror that the citizens must have felt during the events of the previous evening. Several of the jackals were snickering as well, their high-pitched squeals of amusement echoing sickeningly from the walls of the lair. Yes, he definitely had time on his side and he was putting it to good use. The Mularosian's harassment of the furry footed population in the icy north had done much to bolster the prayers of those following the Prophecy and its leaders. This in turn, had strengthened his connection to the bloody gaze of the crimson moon and tonight, not even the irritating moans of the coma-afflicted gnome nearby could deter him from his pleasure.

Naja's sudden cackle of laughter brought him out of his own private thoughts and he turned to regard her just as she eagerly burst out with, "Hey, hey Azorlok! Tell me, what do you call a half of a halfling?!" and Azorlok could not help but grin as he regarded her with mirth. "Do tell, dear Naja." he responded, and she smirked, before responding, "A snack!" Laughter filled the lair afterwards. For the first time in months, the Avatar of Sheru was not concerned with the cracks in the moon or its damnable silvery fractures of light. He had a field of ice and snow, perfectly painted in vivid red blood to entertain him instead.

Brief Recap of Events

03/11/2013 09:06 PM CDT

In January or very early February, the Avatar's blood that infected Isanae was purged from within her. Azorlok, the Avatar of Sheru, had attempted to prevent her recovery and keep her under his influence. It is said that the seer Yuratlya, despite being kidnapped and not in that location, interceded to break Isanae from Azorlok's hold.

Agresh trolls began to threaten the city of Ta'Vaalor, claiming vengeance for being hunted for so many years. Led by a witch named Vargesh, they launched several attacks against the city. The tactics of these attacks showed a seeming knowledge of the defender's tactics, hinting at the possibility of someone in Ta'Vaalor feeding information to the attackers. At the same time, the Lord Legionnaire Commander Tiope Ysinia Vaalor was observed to have an unusual red color to her eyes, which she attributed to her lack of sleep from trying to defend Ta'Vaalor. Some began to become suspicious that she might be the person feeding the trolls information.

Over time, concerns rose that the safety of the king, Tyrnian, might be threatened. Watches were set up to ensure for his safety, including Tiope despite concerns raised by adventurers. Notes and maps began to be recovered that seemed to be from the person who was passing information to the trolls. Troll assassins also appeared in the king's throne room at one point, but were fended off by adventurers.

The attacks all led up to an evening in which the trolls mounted their largest assault yet, with stone siege towers and strong fighters at each gate. In the midst of the attack, Tiope led Tyrnian past Saska, who was standing guard, and took him outside the gates. Before anyone could react, Tiope stabbed Tyrnian in the throat with a blood-red blade and escaped through a potal, claiming that the crimson moon would cause all to fear.

A funeral was held afterward in the Ravelin, where Tyrnian's body was cremated. A memorial was constructed in red marble to the fallen king, which stands to this day.

In late February, a brief skirmish took place on Teras in which cold guardians of Icemule, zealous followers of Lorminstra, located and desecrated the corpse of V'tullian champion Carhn. They claimed the head, which they took with them back to Icemule and posted on the top of a stake as a message to the other Lornonites that they would stand against them.

A few days later, minotaurs traveled up the trail to Icemule and took the head back by force. Adventurers followed them back to Wehntoph and observed the minotaurs' funeral for their fallen warrior. The minotaurs have thus far been quiet after that.

In recent days, the Champion of Mularos, known as Mulrilon, has appeared in the area of Icemule. For the most part, he had only launched conventional attacks against the town, but on March 8, a white floating sphere appeared in the Hall of the Wounded Heart in the temple of Icemule.

From speaking with the priest and caretaker of the area and from the experiences of those who were investigating the sphere, it appears that the sphere has some sort of psychic effect on certain people. Those who are affected have no memory of the encounter, or possibly even of being in the temple at all. Based on observations of and conversations with someone who had such an encounter, it appears that the sphere draws on mental pain of some sort such as painful memories. It is supposed that a person's emotional ties or weaknesses may also be uncovered when being impacted by the sphere, given the brother of one of the affected was found murdered and pinned to the city wall by the west gate shortly after his encounter with the sphere. Another halfling corpse has been found on the east gate, but it is unknown if there is any connection.

Soon after the sphere was discovered, a group of adventurers explored the battlefield out the west gate of the city, where they were met by Mularosians of varying strengths. After battling them for some time, a barracks was discovered, crafted from bloodstained marble. It took some time and no small amount of fighting and healing, but the barracks were eventually destroyed and the area was cleared of combatants.

Mulrilon's voice was heard to taunt those present on occasion, but at one point had said that the halflings' pain and suffering would continue until his creation was born. It may well be that the sphere in Icemule's temple is somehow connected to it. Regardless, the Mularosian's torment is not without purpose, and the sphere is still active, capturing halflings and emitting shrieks of agony.

=Meeting Mulrilon

03/11/2013 09:19 PM CDT

Energy was in short supply and time had come to make her usual round at the temple. The shrine room is usually so dirty and she had planned to work on cleaning out the globe before taking her rest. Heading toward the hall of the dark she came across a group of people. She found herself wondering if they were lost as most of them prayed a lot farther north in the temple than where they currently were. Curiosity won out and she stayed for a few moments in an attempt to understand why they had gathered there. Her attention was quickly drawn to the white sphere floating in the room. It was explained to her by the dwarf that the sphere had appeared here and brought about a sense of woe and some little halfling was enthralled by it currently. They bickered back and forth and eventually took the halfling from the area.

She remained there waiting, curious about the sphere floating in front of her. A giantman arrived and a discussion was began over how he did not trust something that floated like that. In teasing him she offered him a block of ice from her ring, chuckling to herself as she knew it would float around him. As he held it the ice suddenly disappeared from his hand and he had no idea where it had gone. After a few more moments of chatting a scream broke their conversation and they both hurried off to the area it seemed to come from. The sight that awaited them was a rather scandalous one. A halfling had been ripped open and hung to the town wall. She stood for a moment marveling at the graphic display. The others who had gathered decided to wander to battle, the giantman joined them. The girl felt it best to return to the orb.

Time passed slowly as people came and went to look at or discuss this new orb. After a while she was the last to remain. Suddenly she had flashes of her youth, the conversations between her parents about how useless she was, the healers refusing to train her further, the hopeful words of her parents ideas to trap her in marriage. Her mind came back and she found that her eyes were wet from the flood of memories. Angry, she started swearing about the tears, yelling that she shouldn't be forced to flash back on that. At first she thought it was shock setting in until the voice became louder. Telling her to leave it alone, to leave. Scolding her for not staying and teaching them. She argued back with the voice explaining she cannot teach what she did not know. The voice knew her and recognized her as a child of Lornon. With a jolt of surprise she realized the voice was coming from the sphere and asking for protection. Was it worth her protection, she must know and asked. It lashed out rather fiercely and she found herself stunned.

Regaining her senses she heard a different voice, a male was near. The new voice goaded her, stating she was hiding what she was and the time had come for her to act and not worry with choices. She found herself explaining that choices were always something to worry over as times like these call for working carefully and quietly. He explained to her what would come of the sphere and how it would help grant the peace that many wished for. What help would he need to see this through? Suffering, was his response, the halflings must suffer and succumb to their woe. She offered to aid him as best she could, though advised him that she often works in ways most do not discern. As her eyes grew tired she left him with some parting advice. The show on the walls was lovely, but if he chose a more prominent figure he may invoke more from the people of the town. He assured her that there would be plenty of decorations on the walls. With a quick blessing of the Queen given to the gent, she decided against cleaning and headed off to find her rest. She would need her energy to be high for the tasks ahead.

The Wounded Moon

03/23/2013 05:15 AM CDT

Last evening the Mularosian cultists in Icemule trace rallied to the call of their champion, using horrifically barbed flails to strike at the innocent citizens of Icemule Trace. Heroes responded to the needs of the town, fighting back the Mularosians in a bloody battle that seemed without end. Ice trolls continued to lay siege outside the town walls, but the chaos of battle allowed them to break through the East Gate. This distraction allowed the champion of Mularos to make off with his sphere, accompanied by his most devout followers.

After the remaining cultists were dispatched within town, those who fought bravely met with Caretaker Lazoar in Icemule's temple. Lazoar, being a dedicated follower of Lornon, was rather upset about the fact that the sphere was no longer within his temple. In an act of envy and betrayal, the caretaker revealed the Mularosian's plot to take the sphere to Wehnimer's Landing where they would attempt to destroy Lorminstra's temple.

Heroes arrived just in time to prevent the slaughter of the priests and monks within the temple, the sphere floating just outside its entrance. After slaying numerous thralls and zealots, the heroes then faced Mulrilon himself. The champion of Mularos was cornered, with no servants to guard him and nothing but his faith to protect him. He then committed a most terrifying act. Inflicting a horrible wound upon himself, Mulrilon bled over the sphere until his life expired. In his final act of hatred and spite for the followers of Liabo, he released his creation upon Elanthia.

A demon of great power hatched from within the sphere. This creature is known to many as an oculoth. Heroes fought bravely against the demon, using their combined skills to whittle it down until it could no longer sustain itself. Many perished in the wake of the oculoth, but their souls were protected and their bodies were soon revived to continue their adventures in Elanthia.

The crimson aura around the Lornon moon flared brilliantly, and then cracked. Another wound to those who walk in darkness, and a victory for those who follow a more "enlightened" path.

Trolls continue to plague Icemule Trace, seeking revenge for the theft of their warchief's axe.

A Snake in the Grass

04/04/2013 08:15 PM CDT

The people who wished to make the journey into the dreamlands met in the Voln courtyard. We were again reminded of our task to find the seer Yuratlya and gain any information from her that we could. It was also stressed that unity of purpose was vital for us to succeed or even survive. We were supposed to remain in one group, with one purpose and one common goal. The dreamlands were described as the manifestations of both dreams and nightmares. We had to be prepared for anything, and we had to remember that, while what we experienced was in the mind and not physically real, any harm that we suffered would translate to our physical bodies.

With that, Delcian called on Ronan's blessing and those present fell asleep to venture into the dreamlands. Hanos remained behind to keep watch over their sleeping forms so no harm came to them. Following Delcian, the group made its way through the area, which appeared heavily influenced by the Lornon Arkati. Finally, Yuratlya was located, but she was comatose, kept in a cage high over an ocean. The group attempted to wake her so they could talk.

Too late. Yuratlya was the bait in a trap, and the way back was closed off. A voice said that the dreamlands were instead nightmares, and suddenly the group was surrounded by jackals. They were dispatched, and Yuratlya woke. She begged those present to leave, and informed the group that the Lornonites were seeking an artifact, a claw either owned by or part of an Ur-Darmon. The claw must be recovered before the Lornonites if they can be defeated.

But the voice returned, saying that the nightmares would be the adventurers' tomb. Two vathors appeared, and though they were killed, dozens more appeared and came close to attacking the group. Only the appearance of a black unicorn with a silver mane save them, as it called on a shield around the group to protect them. The unicorn praised Delcian, but said that the group had to leave. The nightmare was no place for them.

Lightning crawled up the cage holding Yuratlya, and the group worried for her well-being. Still, they had to leave. There was nothing they could do. The unicorn opened the way to safety, and the group made its way back to consciousness.

On waking up, Hanos was informed of the events, and reiterated that an attempt would be made to find and kill the Luukosian champion Naja. The group would meet at Voln at 10:30 the following Wednesday night.

Last night, the group gathered and met with Hanos. He would bring us to the entrance to the area he had uncovered, but would remain behind to try to keep Naja from learning of our presence too soon. In this instance, we were also told that we were looking for information, so we were to explore as much as possible before getting to business on destroying the totem that is the source of Naja's power.

We entered an underground set of caverns that were swarming with undead of various strengths. The group made its way through the tunnels, going through various places like a treasury with several objects that we took with us, a "playroom" with various implements of torture, and a study with a map on the table. We took a closer look at the map: "Silver tacks topped with red enamel are pinned to the map around the major cities of Elanith. The largest profusion of tacks seems to circle Wehnimer's Landing, River's Rest, and Ta'Illistim." Underneath the map, we noticed a small scrap of papyrus which also had some small details: "Torn from a full piece of parchment, the scrap is tattered around its edges and features the latter half of a directional compass, showing south, west, and part of east. The letters "I", "M", and "T" are traced along the corner, and a drawing of a sarcophagus is carefully sketched."

Eventually, we made our way to the altar room where the totem was found. Only disintegration spells appeared to affect it. Thankfully, we had Eles and Jani who went to work on taking it down. As they did, shrieks of pain echoed through the area and a thunderstorm cracked the sky. Despite being swarmed with undead, the totem was dismantled and its power broken. The walls began to crumble around us, and we hurriedly made our way out.

Regrouping at Voln, Hanos informed us that Naja had been screaming in pain when the totem was being destroyed and had fled. Since the totem is destroyed, however, she is vulnerable to harm like Carhn was when Fjalar destroyed his totem and eventually killed him. We have few clues to where she is, aside from the maps. Hanos suspected that the maps were locations where the artifact was being searched for, but the map fragment may point to clues of Naja's location. Given the map fragment has the letters I M T, the first instinct is to search Icemule. Indeed, Hanos seemed to think that places up north were good to search, either for Naja or the artifact. A group of people went up to Icemule to look for various sarcophagi, but without any further progress.

Ign's Sorro

03/15/2013 11:48 PM CDT

The rumors spread like wildfire across Elanthia...

...trolls were advancing on Icemule Trace...

...their warchief's axe has gone missing...

A group of brave adventurers arrived in Icemule Trace and began their investigation earlier this evening. Little was revealed as the party moved through the streets and known territories of the local ice troll population. Eventually they wandered into the wandering halfling, Ign, who's eyes glowed with an uncanny white light and had been marked on one temple with a white heart-shaped scar. It was soon learned that Ign's sight and sense of smell had been taken from him. The young halfling also kept referring to someone called "master", who had been giving Ign these so-called lessons.

It was then that Ign's master, Mulrilon arrived, speaking softly from the shadows. The champion of Mularos warned the assembled heroes not to try anything foolish, like stopping the ice trolls from finding their warchief's axe. Mulrilon's pet demon, known as Lash to the young halfling, then struck out with a barbed red whip-like tongue. After an exchange of threats and promises, Mulrilon then ordered Ign to wander east until he could no longer. The young halfling was no longer needed. Ign stumbled around blindly but eventually made his way out of the East Gate.

Siege towers were spotted around the perimeter of the town walls, and sentry towers were found close to the snow fort. Ice trolls began to assemble and move in force around the Ign continued to wander blindly around in the tundra until the group of heroes detained him and in an act of desperation, clobbering the poor halfling over the head with a coffer.

It seemed to work!

The glow left Ign's eyes, and he was able to see and smell again. Ign suddenly realized where he was and who was with him. He shouted to the heroes that they needed to go to the snow fort, and stop whoever was there. Ign then ran as fast as he could in the direction of the fort, but his trail was lost by the adventurers who did manage to find strange activity upon their arrival. Powerful Mularosian cabalists and inquisitors were present, along with fearsome ice troll warbringers. Whether the two factions were fighting each other or working together is still a matter yet to be determined. After countless trolls were slain, and the Mularosians dispatched, the adventurers retired back to town.

Ign's death was not swift...

His final cries later heard in the minds of many, a tortured wail of agony.

Icy Endeavors

04/12/2013 05:20 PM CDT

We gathered at the Landing Voln to talk to Hanos. He told us that a party of trappers had vanished about 10 days ago. Two halflings and a half-elf, they were based out of Icemule, but tended to work between the Landing and Icemule. Hanos asked us to look around and see if we could find any clues to where they had gone. He said that he believed that their disappearance was connected to the artifact that is being searched for, but did not specify why. He also said that he would return on Sunday at 7pm to discuss anything that might be found, and then left us to our search.

The people who took to the search worked their way up the trail between Icemule and the Landing. It wasn't long before the party was attacked by jackals and lupines. A deep, growling voice also taunted some members of the party, demonstrating a knowledge of the people being spoken to and that they were watching the group.

As the group recuperated in a tree, Philnia reported seeing something glinting in the snow behind the tree. A frozen piece of finger was found in the snow, and the group continued onward. Closer to Icemule, a kobold was found gnawing on an engorged cockatrice head branded with a sigil, and it was quickly relieved of its prize. Lastly, a shadowed figure was seen rushing away from a nearby tree, and Mithogras found a canvas bag filled with skins in the snow nearby immediately after.

The finger appeared thus: Frozen and starting to show signs of decay, this is only half of a finger. The fingernail is dirt-ridden and blood is encrusted along the edges.

The cockatrice head had no finer detail to see. The canvas bag appeared thus: Stiffened with ice and snow, the canvas bag is soaked completely through and is starting to show signs of mildew. The clasp is half-torn, as if it had caught on something and ripped open.

In the sturdy canvas bag: skin (5): a bundle of caribou antlers, a bundle of ice hound ears, a bundle of bear hides, a bundle of cockatrice tailfeathers, a bundle of wolverine tails.

Nilandia attempted to examine the canvas bag for any traces of psychic energy. There was very little to discern, aside from that the bag was left in the snow in a hurry, and the clasp might have broken when the bag either was ripped from someone's hand or caught on something like a tree limb. She then attempted to observe the finger and whether it was connected to the canvas bag. She sensed that the essence clinging to the finger was the same as on the bag, leading her to conclude that the finger may have belonged to the bag's owner, but she couldn't determine anything else.

The group kept searching, but aside from howls coming from the south of Icemule, nothing new was found. If anything else was located afterward, I haven't heard of it.

Icy Endeavors II

04/15/2013 06:35 AM CDT

In Loving Memory:

Restday, Olaesta 14, 5113

Per the request of the Warder Hanos all able and interested parties met at the Voln courtyard in Wehnimer's Landing. The discussion involved various items of interest found along the trail between Icemule Trace and Wehnimer's Landing. The nature and location of these clues gave us a location to begin searching for our missing party of trackers and the fate that befell them. While most believed they had already passed it was believed that the location of their disappearance might point us towards something the Lornonites had kept hidden.

The party set out following the lead of Lady Saska to the location of a tree impaled with a giant claw. Unfortunately many recognized this as having been there for all of recent memory. The party was handed off to Jani who lead everyone to the snow drift in which a journal had been found. While the party searched around this area Hanos wandered off along the trail. Brinret, being one to wander off on his own as well, soon followed and found him muttering about a feeling and peering around. A careful search revealed a hidden crack in the ice large enough to move through.

As the rest of the party caught up the group was set upon by Lupine and jackals. The gathered adventurer's made short work on the threat and then moved into the crack in the ice, while Warder Hanos remained outside to guard the entrance. They shortly came to a passageway that was heavily warded. After heavy magical assault the wards were broken but during the chaos many members of the party were killed by attacking Lupine forces. At Hanos' urging the remaining members of the group went on through the passage while Philnia and Saska remained behind to set up triage and get those that had been killed moving again.

Past the passageway a clearing was found. The walls were covered with magical sigils and Lornonite images. A dark ironwood sarcophagus covered with runes dominated one wall. It was determined that this was Azorlok's item of power and those remaining set upon it with spell and blade. Waves of Lupine and jackals confronted the adventurers, attempting to protect the sarcophagus. During the chaos the Warder Myke was killed by "accidental" friendly fire from Brinret. Even with all this the sarcophagus and Lornonite etchings were eventually destroyed, heavily weakening Azorlok. As a result the crimson moon crumbled and fell to Elanthia leaving behind a bright silvery moon.

At this point the story diverges into two versions:

According to Lord Brigadier Brinret, during the breaking of the sarcophagus he stepped away to refresh spells. At this time the death of Warder Hanos was felt and his ghostly scream about a traitor was heard by all. The Lord Brigadier then went to check on him and was immediately set upon by Lupine and jackals attempting to secure the Warder's body. He eventually had to withdraw, heavily wounded, and seek out the rest of the group. Hanos' body was never recovered and it is believed his soul was claimed by Luukos.

According to Lord Warder Myke, at the death of Hanos he used symbol of sight to check upon his fellow warder. He claims to have witness Lord Brigadier Brinret dragging off the body of Hanos and burying it while taunting that none would ever find him. The party went to the location he identified but were unable to recover a body. However, after the party left and later returned, Hanos' things were found in that location. Many speculated that the Avatar had corrupted Myke's vision and that Hanos' items had been placed.

Whichever story you choose to believe one thing is clear. During all the in-fighting, and empowered by the death of Hanos, Azorlok escaped. Lord Brigadier Brinret claims that when he was wandering wounded back towards the group Azorlok was taunting him. Claiming that he was going to redouble his efforts.

The crimson moon is destroyed and that threat has passed. yet the life of a great champion of Liabo. Meanwhile Azorlok and Naja are still out there, licking their wounds and plotting their next attack. Worst of all there is dissention amongst the ranks of the defenders. No one knows for sure what truly happened to Hanos and to what extent the Lord Brigadier of the Militia was involved in his death. The prophecy seems to have been averted but was the cost too high?