Return to Sunder
The Return to Sunder storyline by GM Kenstrom started in April of 2016. When we get finished with it, I'll finish this one line summary of what it was about, kay?
Timeline
Here's how it went down …
March 11, 2016: Prologue
- Kenstrom unveils the sneak preview
Topic: Wehnimer's Landing
Message #: 8479
Author: GS4-KENSTROM
Date: 3/11/2016 08:26 PM PST
Subject: Return To Sunder: Prologue
Below is a little teaser prologue for a short storyline coming in April titled "Return to Sunder." So you know, read it, enjoy, and buy deeds! It kicks off in April!
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The soldier paced the ramparts.He missed home. He missed the warm summers in Lolle, and the huddled warmth of a lover during the cold winters. He missed the scents and sounds of home. The mixture of mountain breeze, dirt from the mines, and a hint of wildflowers from the hills. He missed the white curtains drawn across the windows of town, an eternal shield against the icy curse of the past.He missed the crisp sound of the blue phoenix banner flapping in the mountain wind. Even here, it sounded different. The air was laden with salt from the bay, it clung to his skin and weathered his cloak.He almost sighed, his eyes staring out from beneath his polished helm as he watched the activity on the other side of a wooden palisade wall. Ants, is what they reminded him of. Lost to their routine and often purposed for another. They were like barbaric cousins. He knew they had all been tasked to protect them, to guide them, to set a good example for the next generations of their people. Hearts and minds, his commander had always told them, time and again. We have to win their hearts and minds.How, he wondered, when you haven’t even won mine?He missed home. He missed the fresh meats and herbs traded daily in the markets of Lolle. He missed the glow of the fields and hills in the day, and the silhouette of the Dragonspines at night. Here he had nothing like that. Not even close.Well, maybe close.He turned his gaze to the rising mountain named Melgorehn’s Reach by the locals. It jutted up to the sky, its peaks disappearing beyond his sight. For now, that view would have to do.A flash of light caught his eye, and he suddenly turned.The air shimmered and his hand reached for his sword.
The merchant paced the floor of his shop.Another day, another coin. He was getting too old for this. His bones creaked more than the floorboards. His knuckles were almost a conjoined mass of flesh now and he’d never forge a weapon again. But he felt his mind was still sharp. Why wouldn’t it be? He was the predominate weapons merchant in town. Everyone knew his name. Young and brave adventurers, even commoners in town came to him for all manners of weapons. He was happy to oblige, it was his life after all.But he could not stop but think, when and how would it all end? Would the floor creak one last time, and he draws his final breath? Would his body be found on the ground as if on display like one of his weapons? It had been over thirty years since the love of his life had passed. She took with her his heart and he had been destined to never share it again. But what price did he pay? A lonely home, and a legacy likely to be easily replaced by someone else as equally skilled in his business.He took an ivory-handled dagger from a low shelf and placed it inside of a display case. There, he thought, discounted now. The air shimmered for a moment and he rubbed his tired eyes. He circled around to the other side of his counter and there it was. The ivory-handled dagger back on the low shelf. He looked down to the display case and it was empty again.He shook his head. He was getting too old for this.He went back around to the shelf, lifted up the dagger and set it back into the case.The floor creaked behind him and he turned, suddenly wishing he still had the dagger in hand.
The small boy paced outside of his home.The heavy bearded man had arrived again, like usual.His mother always made him wait outside, sometimes for even a whole hour!He hated it. He missed his room, despite its size; it was all he had ever known and all he really needed. He missed his father. It had been almost two years now since the soldiers came to town and he lost his daddy. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to die protecting this town that doesn’t even remember him?He turned back and looked at his home. There was no candle light yet through the window. He wasn’t allowed to go back inside until there was, his mother always said.He missed his mother. He missed the way she was before all of this. Before the war, before his daddy died, before meals of bread turned into meals of crumbs. He missed how she laughed and would snuggle him. Now she was only sad, so very sad all of the time. Sometimes he couldn’t sleep because he could hear her crying at night. She was always angry after the heavy bearded man left, or the glassy-eyed man, and even the troll-nosed man. Angry, but still very sad.He looked down at the small wooden soldier miniature in his hand. He pretended it was his father, proud and noble, defending the town and his family. But in truth, it looked more like the soldiers who came and nearly burned the town and killed his father. But it was all he had, and they couldn’t afford another.His eyes became lost in the dirt at his feet, his young mind wandering to a better time in his short life. He saw the faint orange glow of the candle out of the corner of his eye and he turned. There it was. Finally, he could go back inside, and hopefully eat something, and sleep, and dream.The air shimmered and the light of the candle wavered, almost as if splitting in half for a brief instant. He felt a chill behind him and heard a footstep. He turned suddenly, eyes going up to a visage half in shadows and half from nightmares.The wooden soldier toy fell from his hand, breaking when it landed.
April 1, 2016: The first mana storm
Townspeople hurry from fields to take shelter, creatures in the surrounding areas start stampeding (and their incredible scary AS), the temporal rifts begin, and Melgorehn's Reach lights up like … Independence Day.