Difference between revisions of "Unti Family/Nerta/A5S4"
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We bid you safer travels on the more conventional stage of your journey home, | We bid you safer travels on the more conventional stage of your journey home, | ||
|Title=Emperor of Shattered Vales | |Title=Emperor of Shattered Vales | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content=One stable monster down Nerta collects some coins and eyes the host stepping from the portal. The banners weren't Valesmen but those of of Arfordir. Hopefully they wouldn't go on a rampage this time... | ||
+ | |||
+ | Distracted by the sight of Nostolgia's arrival, Nerta ends up crashing into a man exiting the temple. The impromptu meeting leaves them tangled against the bounty board. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "By the Gods, get off..." Mid shove Nerta scowls. "Oh wait, you're Boffin? The Old Man plays games." | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
}}</center> | }}</center> | ||
|- | |- | ||
Line 301: | Line 316: | ||
|Width=100% | |Width=100% | ||
|Type=Letter | |Type=Letter | ||
− | |Sender= | + | |Sender=Boffin Barthold |
|Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
− | |Content= | + | |Content="A thousand pardons, Priestess!" Boffin replies as he stands and offers his hand as befitting a knight of his station. "I hope I caused no injury, though some would say you were due after what became of my ego at the Academy!" he laughs. |
− | |Title= | + | |Title=Knight of Gethsemene |
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content="More than some would say I'm due much worse than a tumble." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Pausing she adjusts her cloak. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Well... that's not important." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Wrinkling her nose at the hand she accepts the help. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The fight you mean? Were you the one that got hit with the bucket? You'd not be the first to join the Followers after a fight." | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Letter | ||
+ | |Sender=Ehrich Weisz | ||
+ | |Recipients=Personal message to Nerta | ||
+ | |Content=The fall of the south | ||
+ | |||
+ | After meeting with Nerta Priestess of The Old Gods there was a renewed effort to collate into some order the forlorn tale of the final days of the Vales’ southern holdings. Particular interest had been expressed in the features of the sprawling hordes of undead and whether any signs of the necromancers’ malign hand could be detected amongst them. A polluted balefire light in the eyes of possessed undead was a notorious sign the priestess had referred to, but the enormity of the slaughter had shaken even veteran soldiers so wild accounts of grotesque horrors were many and hard to verify. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Throughout the past month there had been repeated accounts of a headless horseman seeming to appear in advance of the undead attacks. An outrider or messenger of foul purpose, his steed alone was fearsome to behold, and its eyes were sometimes remarked to burn with an unholy flame although the towering black mount showed no other sign of decay. The horseman’s decapitated body still bore his own severed head beneath his arm, but the eyes were remarked to be cruel but dull. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The headless horseman had arrived just before Ete first fell to the masses of undead. They swarmed in terrible numbers but did not immediately press their advantage into the rural lands beyond and scholars had suggested occupied lands might be beginning to hold less concerted appeal to reanimated and beastly horrors alike. This proved a cruel false hope as the Vales rallied, and accompanied by a couple of bold Nothoi commanders, fought their way first to clear Drinilla and then on to purge Ete itself when some of the horde appeared to amble away. Celebrations to retake the city proved premature and the vile undead regrouped in what now seemed an act of cunning ambush slaughtering the Vales forces while they were separated from the unallied Nothoi knights during the forlorn takeover attempt. This was one of the bitterest defeats and despite fielding a considerable 330 man force the undead were barely reduced from their already superior numbers. | ||
+ | |||
+ | On that fateful day another Dread Lieutenant appeared amongst the undead ranks, evidently some slain nobleman returned by foulest intent. His eyes blazed with wildfire as he strode the battlefield with a damned regiment of lean, armoured warriors that our bravest knights could not repel. That despite our fiercest resistance we had not even dented the enemy’s numbers that day foretold that the final days of the Vales’ resistance in the south were at hand. Amongst the Dread Lieutenant’s host monstrous beasts marched as one with the undead. Abominations were common and where we thought we had slain a monster one day; we often faced it again in reanimated form when night came. Huge primitive monsters compelled by unliving power to walk upright again were often marked by an amulet glowing with the kind of fiery light normally only sometimes seen in the eyes of the possessed undead elite. The Emperor's own unit was nearly wiped out facing down a large undead troll-like creature which wielded a discarded battering ram, for it a club swung easily with one hand. It had pieces of bloodied man-sized armour used to patch up its original mortal wound which had near severed it from shoulder down to its hip. When it advanced on our ranks, we could see limbs of the fallen soldiers the armour had been seized from still writhed within, fused to the undead beast to form a most wretched and terrible foe. The dread legion bolstered by these grotesque horrors and swarming beyond the fortified line at Ete had become unassailable and overwhelmed the last hope for sustained resistance. The extent of the misery and suffering it is yet to soon to relate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Footnotes for Nerta Unti's records: | ||
+ | Huge Battle Fought (2021-10-08 18:17:17) | ||
+ | Rumours spread of a huge battle in Drinilla: | ||
+ | Nothoi, Shattered Vales vs. (rogue) | ||
+ | Estimated strengths: 450 men vs. 210 men | ||
+ | Attacker Victory! | ||
+ | |||
+ | Huge Battle Fought (2021-10-09 06:17:12) | ||
+ | Rumours spread of a huge battle in Ete City: | ||
+ | Nothoi, Shattered Vales vs. (rogue) | ||
+ | Estimated strengths: 510 men vs. 380 men | ||
+ | Attacker Victory! | ||
+ | |||
+ | Huge Battle Fought (2021-10-11 06:11:07) | ||
+ | Rumours spread of a huge battle in Ete City: | ||
+ | (rogue) vs. Shattered Vales | ||
+ | Estimated strengths: 580 men vs. 330 men | ||
+ | Attacker Victory! | ||
+ | |||
+ | Soon after this battle > 1350 "men" numbered in the enemy horde. 55k c/s | ||
+ | |Title=Emperor of Shattered Vales | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Letter | ||
+ | |Sender=Ehrich Weisz | ||
+ | |Recipients=Personal message to Nerta | ||
+ | |Content=Roleplay from Ehrich Weisz Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp | ||
+ | (Personal message to Nerta Unti) - 22 hours, 5 minutes ago | ||
+ | Roleplay from Ehrich Weisz | ||
+ | |||
+ | Message sent to everyone in Daishi (49 recipients) - just in | ||
+ | |||
+ | The journey north | ||
+ | |||
+ | An unexpected election had been required against the backdrop of these grim events and the Vales reluctantly decided to back the painful decision to relocate. A generous offer was extended to us just at a time our hopes were lowest and hence we began planning for the arduous journey north to save what we could of our culture and civilisation. The portal originally conceived to assail the amassed undead hordes bent its light to render assistance in an unexpected form and the mundane journey that had otherwise been planned was miraculously spared us. The assembled ships of all shapes and sizes now strained with desperate refugees rather than the original armed troops they had been commissioned to transport. Many of the ships flew the Irondale flag as an old friendship was rekindled in the time of the Vales’ greatest need. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Gethsemene has its own culture which bristled somewhat against new-comer lords especially where they were followed by a stream of destitute refugees. With Margrave Ulv raised to lord of the city he wasted no time in constructing a new missionary temple to Daishi. One of the many small ways the Vales culture was being kept alight, with the simple temple standing as a small beacon of hope on a harsh new frontier. At the temple a popular custom emerged for prayer ribbons to be pinned to the oak door often tied with tokens of their lost or missing loved ones. A horseshoe for some lost farrier or tattered toy for a missing child. Pale ribbons were employed to seek contact with family thought separated during the migration. Dark or black ribbons denoted mourning for those slain in the slaughter and stampede. | ||
+ | |||
+ | There would long be a sense of mourning for the south in this city particularly, but the Shattered Vales was named from a history marked by adversity so the determination to rebuild remains fierce. Our lustrous shattered shards will again be repurposed and cut deep if pressed. | ||
+ | |Title=Emperor of Shattered Vales | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Boffin Barthold | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content="A bucket indeed! Some peasant left it in the floor and I was tripped! Ah well, a noble victory on your part still." | ||
+ | |Title=Knight of Gethsemene | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content="Tripped?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Glittering eyes dance. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And here I thought I threw it. Silly me." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Slapping Boffin on the back, Nerta gestures toward Market Street. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Let's get you some food and figure out what fool thing you've been tricked into by the Old Man. Did any of the Gods speak to you? Both figuratively and, if you're really cursed, literally." | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Boffin Barthold | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content=He sighs and walks along, "Very well, a bet is a bet. " | ||
+ | |Title=Knight of Gethsemene | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content=Passing Boffin a flagon of ale and a meat pie. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Alright, first thing first: we don't believe in a lot of things. No one 'believes' in the trees and the mountains, they just are and so are the Gods. There's life & death, fate & fortune, light & dark. Even if you had the good fortune and sense to never come to this land you'd know these things are true." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nerta bites into her own pie, mindful of grease. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The thing is here on Beluaterra, on Monster World, these things have opinions about our existence. Humans came here, ages ago now, and tried to make this land ours. The monsters fight us to retain their home, and we to claim it. All while the Gods watch and judge." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Eying the still crackling portal. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Life, who we call the Wolf Lord, wants the strong to survive. He delights in testing us, and everything else, constantly. By contrast, Death accepts is all as we are. The Dark Mistress is a kindly bitch who shares her gift when we are ready stop fighting." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nerta sighs and waves a hand. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "There's more is course but those two are the most popular with new Followers. Well... Except the Dark. The cursed Crystal Maiden always seems to find someone desperate enough to teach necromancy. She offers power to the selfish, asking only that one cause suffering and pain. She hates what is. She wants all the Gods dead and everything to be anguish." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Gesturing to the refugees. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Something you Valesmen have now learned first hand, and the Novains before you." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As for the rest: we all have a fate, the Ice Queen sees to that. But thankfully fortune, the Ephemeral Emperor, helps us along when that destiny overwhelms. Usually. Sometimes he just messes with travel. Tricksters are like that." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Masked One is the last, and a strange one. Syncretism from another faith, or so the scholars say. They represent balance and judgment, yet gets attention from infiltrators and rogues. The light can be complicated what can I say?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "So. Do you wish to learn more about any of the Gods, or shall we move onto other things?" | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Boffin Barthold | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content=Boffin smiles at the serving maid and drops some coin in her hand. | ||
+ | "Oddly specific, these 'gods' you've named. Are there only the six you mentioned or are there others? " | ||
+ | He takes a deep drink from the flag on. | ||
+ | "Regardless, "he grins "at the moment, Life sounds most interesting of all! " | ||
+ | |Title=Knight of Gethsemene | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | Crashing Down | ||
+ | message to everyone in the vicinity of Gethsemene | ||
+ | Through the night, the portal flickered several more times—fortunately, no one was trying to cross through when it did—and the violet lightning crackling along the edges grew much more pronounced. | ||
+ | |||
+ | At dawn, it became clear that the portal was weakening when a single unit of undead approached the portal. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A few hours before dusk, the portal flashed and a bolt of violet lightning forked upward to the sky. As if this was a signal, one of the remaining lookouts cried out, "Look! The city!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | To the southeast, the undead had gathered outside Ete City, and now began to march toward Tsamn in a massive wave. At their flanks ran groups of monsters, slavering and howling. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Mere moments later, out of the clear blue sky, another lightning bolt forked down, striking the portal with a shattering crash of thunder. For a short time, the portal snapped back to its original size, the colour returning to blues and greens. The last lookouts all ran toward it and leaped through, and none too soon. | ||
+ | |||
+ | From the Gethsemene side, they could see the ponderous wave of undead and monsters rushing toward the portal. The portal itself began to distort again, its shape now twisting and the air around it shimmering and refracting, much like it had before the portal had opened. The lookouts—and those who had been watching the portal on this side—scrambled to get away from it, calling out that it was going to collapse. | ||
+ | |||
+ | For a few more minutes, nothing else happened, and they wondered briefly if they had been worried over nothing. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Then there was a tremendous thunderclap, audible for dozens of miles around, and the portal vanished, along with a chunk of ground several feet deep. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Perhaps, then, it was only in their imaginations that they heard the echoes of thousands of skeletal feet tramping, and the howls of ravenous monsters. | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content="Six is all there are, and five are all we need." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Walking to the window, the woman leans on the sill. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Life calls to most at first, but be wary: the Wolf Lord is ever hungry..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The rest of the warning is cut short as the purple energies of the gate shift and writhe. As green witchfire overwhelms the lattice of power, Nerta grimaces. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Dread Necromancer has taken control of the gate. Looks like we'll need to fight, try not to trip on buckets this time. Wait..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Blinded by the last crack of power that slams the door on the Sunken Kingdom, Nerta laughs as the dead wail. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Or the Trickster will change our fate." | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Boffin Barthold | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content=At the mention of the Necromancer, Boffin grimaced and teaches for his sword, only to stop the presentation of the blade in mid stroke. As the gate shudders and falls, he smiles and sinks back in his chair. | ||
+ | "Hungry, you say? Then we are well suited, one to the other!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | He laughs as he does yet another pie from the bench. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "As you see, Lady, so am! " | ||
+ | |Title=Knight of Gethsemene | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Yao Ling Pryde | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content=Yao Ling saw the lightning bolt come down and smiled at the familiar laughter in the background. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Fulcrum's still with us!" she shouted to the shrine guardians and pointed towards the stabilizing portal. Beyond it, the last lookouts on the other side were running towards it. "Get the shrines! Bring them to me!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Yao Ling watched as her shrine guardians ran forward to grab the mobile shrines they'd built in Gethsemene after the portal formed. They brought the three shrines to her, pushed them together to form the single large shrine they had been built to be, and stepped away. Yao Ling removed her long cloak to reveal the shining Armour of Righteousness she wore. Then she reached into one of the pockets and pulled out the Vial of Divine Floodwaters. She had received both during the portal event in Keffa, and now here she was using them again here. Not too far from Keffa. The irony was appropriate. | ||
+ | |||
+ | She poured one drop of the divine floodwaters onto the shrine and looked towards the portal as the last of the lookouts passed through it and kept running. Beyond them, the undead were on the march towards the portal. Yao Ling nodded. Of course they were. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Fulcrum," she intoned slowly. "You stabilized this portal so all with ears to hear could retreat from that horde. Now I ask you to destabilize it again so that horde cannot follow them." | ||
+ | |||
+ | She poured one more drop of the divine floodwaters onto the shrine, capped the vial, and slipped it back into her pockets. Then she stood behind the shrine and waited as the seconds turned into the minutes, and the sound of the undead marching began to come through the portal. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The portal began to flicker again, changing colors, twisting, and going out of focus before her very eyes. It snapped and crackled until Yao Ling's eyes teared up against the pain of it all. But she continued to watch. She had to see how the magical flows worked. The more she knew, the more she just might be able to use in the future. She was still watching when the magical flows finally came apart in a flash, a boom, and a magical conflagration that seemed all too familiar. The shockwave washed over the shrine she stood behind, her hair flapped like a flag in the wind, and animals and people alike protested the assault behind her. When the explosion faded, a new crater filled the town square, going down several feet into the earth. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Yao Ling nodded. This also she had seen before, back when the portal that brought Obeah into this world exploded in Keffa. | ||
+ | |||
+ | This is what portals did. Sometimes they could prove useful. Sometimes they were a threat. But always, always they collapsed in the end and destroyed everything around them. There was always a great cost to dealing with them, but sometimes, sometimes the cost was worth it. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Yao Ling turned from portal crater to see the Vales' flags flapping in the wind. This time, the portal had helped save a nation from destruction and given them a new chance to live. This time, the portal had been worth the cost. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Still, the undead armies remained, on the other side of that exploded portal. And with the Vales gone, that left Nothoi and Creasur to hold the line for humanity. She turned back to the shrine and nodded at the mark burned into it. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thank you for the help, Fulcrum," she said to the god that had left his mark on the shrine. "Now I ask that you continue to watch. The undead are still out there, and I fear we shall need your help again. Or the help of your brothers and sisters." | ||
+ | |||
+ | She heard the familiar laughter again and let out a long breath. The last time the gods had walked the earth openly to cleanse it of the Daimon Blight, they had destroyed much of the land with it, driving it to the bottom of the oceans. She greatly hoped that amount of power would not be required once more. She greatly hoped that Nothoi would be able to hold the line. But when push came to shove, if it would take the powers of the gods to aid humanity, she would call on them again. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Whatever the cost, humanity had to be defended. She only prayed that the cost would be worth it. | ||
+ | |Title=High Shugenja of Daishi | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Ehrich Weisz | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content=Disarray spread suddenly through the city in the moments before the portal snapped shut in a storm of vibrant lightning. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "That was a little too close for comfort High Priestess Yao Ling, I am glad you and the shrines to Fulcrum were here to buttress our faith. And Priestess Nerta, I was worried for a moment that we were about to get another look at the undead fiends at far too close quarters. I was impressed to see you were one of the first scrambling to arms, with your sparring practices over the past few days very opportune. I will pray thanks to Fulcrum but will be glad to know your prayers offer thanks in the names of your own gods too." | ||
+ | |||
+ | It took a while to exhort the various tradesmen to pick up their tools once again but the endeavour to unveil the new capital monuments were eventually resumed. The warriors and sentries having scrambled to gather weapons to hand were not readily inclined to be parted from them again. Tensions remained even during the various unveiling ceremonies across the new capital and news of the vast horde that had immediately descended upon Tsamn overshadowed the day. | ||
+ | |Title=Emperor of Shattered Vales | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in Gethsemene | ||
+ | |Content="Seems like you'll get along well with Ioulas then, Boffin. That's another one who is all for 'tits and wine' or however he said it." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Skulking near the back with Boffin as magic is wrought, Nerta nods as the Emperor of the Vales in Exile acknowledges her presence. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I'm a Guardian your majesty. It's what we do. The real question is what are your people going to do?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Hefting her spear the woman seems in unusually good spirits as she eyes Yao Ling. Maybe another match? | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Trapped on the other side of the world and with the gate closed you've got a bit of respite from the Sunken Kingdom. But that kind of quiet can leave a people restless and adrift." | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | ! Measurements | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Letter | ||
+ | |Sender=Ryosuke Guile | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in the Old Gods | ||
+ | |Content=This Priestess of Revenon has made some audacious claims: | ||
+ | |||
+ | Letter from Thúraya Montgomery | ||
+ | Message sent to everyone in Tor | ||
+ | Sir Ioulas, | ||
+ | I know not of these "old Gods" they sound like heathenistic fools who have not witnessed a true God like Revenon. He is the Saint of Saints, the true Sinless of them all, sealer of the 7 Demi-gods of Sin, the Dead God. He has so many titles. Others who try to claim to be God are false! | ||
+ | Cleanse your sins of the false Gods! Cleanse your sins! Evil will perish under the God Revenon! | ||
+ | signed, | ||
+ | Thúraya Montgomery | ||
+ | Godsworn Jailer of Reven | ||
+ | Dame of Wudenkin | ||
+ | Priestess of The Saints of Revenon | ||
+ | |||
+ | It would seem we've been labelled as Evil, somehow? Odd, considering of all the faiths on the Isle we are the only ones actively seeking to secure humanity's survival... | ||
+ | |||
+ | Vox Noctis, | ||
+ | |Title=Hierophant of Irondale | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Letter | ||
+ | |Sender=Acalan Osoro | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in the Old Gods | ||
+ | |Content=The priestess has also made some audacious claims about her bust size, according to local records! | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | Name: Thúraya Montgomery | ||
+ | Bust size: 88cm | ||
+ | Waist: 77cm | ||
+ | Height: 5'8" | ||
+ | Hair Color: Brown | ||
+ | Eye Color: Brown | ||
+ | Weapon: Sword or Bow | ||
+ | |||
+ | I suggested a lovely tailor back East because I can see no other reason to advertise such information, but apparently this offended her! | ||
+ | |||
+ | Perhaps this is an odd Revenon custom with which I am unfamiliar? | ||
+ | |Title=Knight of Haji | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Letter | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Message to everyone in the Old Gods | ||
+ | |Content=Traditionally the Temple has ignored the other faiths. As Ryosuke said, we're too busy trying to secure the future of humanity to worry about petty politics. However if there is an interest we can hold a conclave and try to come to a consensus. Or leave it as a matter of kings. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As for the Prisetess being offended by fashion advise. Not everyone is as worldly as yourself Acalan. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Finally, Hrogar I know not but perhaps Nerta met the man in her travels. Either way, good to have you here. Perhaps the temple should discuss the Ranger stipend. Allia knows a thing or two about finances after all. | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
}}</center> | }}</center> | ||
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Revision as of 02:48, 30 October 2021
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Training Match
Boffin Barthold, Knight of Gethsemene meets his challenger Nerta Unti, Dame of Agyr, Priestess of The Old Gods for the agreed training match. Nerta has decided to use the 'trick moves' strategy while Boffin has chosen the 'neutral' strategy, giving Boffin the advantage. After a series of blows, Nerta wins the training match. | ||||||
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Crashing Down
message to everyone in the vicinity of Gethsemene Through the night, the portal flickered several more times—fortunately, no one was trying to cross through when it did—and the violet lightning crackling along the edges grew much more pronounced. At dawn, it became clear that the portal was weakening when a single unit of undead approached the portal. A few hours before dusk, the portal flashed and a bolt of violet lightning forked upward to the sky. As if this was a signal, one of the remaining lookouts cried out, "Look! The city!" To the southeast, the undead had gathered outside Ete City, and now began to march toward Tsamn in a massive wave. At their flanks ran groups of monsters, slavering and howling. Mere moments later, out of the clear blue sky, another lightning bolt forked down, striking the portal with a shattering crash of thunder. For a short time, the portal snapped back to its original size, the colour returning to blues and greens. The last lookouts all ran toward it and leaped through, and none too soon. From the Gethsemene side, they could see the ponderous wave of undead and monsters rushing toward the portal. The portal itself began to distort again, its shape now twisting and the air around it shimmering and refracting, much like it had before the portal had opened. The lookouts—and those who had been watching the portal on this side—scrambled to get away from it, calling out that it was going to collapse. For a few more minutes, nothing else happened, and they wondered briefly if they had been worried over nothing. Then there was a tremendous thunderclap, audible for dozens of miles around, and the portal vanished, along with a chunk of ground several feet deep. Perhaps, then, it was only in their imaginations that they heard the echoes of thousands of skeletal feet tramping, and the howls of ravenous monsters. | ||||||
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