Juxtaposed happenstance

Moderators: Forum Moderators, Active DMs

Post Reply
User avatar
Jagel
Posts: 1250
Joined: Tue Sep 09, 2014 3:50 pm
Location: Scandinavia

Juxtaposed happenstance

Post by Jagel » Wed Jul 05, 2017 2:32 pm

The farewell

"You must go. Quick. And do not come back. You know how outcasts are treated by the tribe elders, you've seen it. And then think of what mercy they'd show someone who, according to some, never belonged here in the first place."

Asya looked up at her mentor and friend, her icy hair dancing dully in the crisp and cold morning air.

"But.. we're huntin' for yeti?"

With a shake of the head: "You take every thing at face value. You really shouldn't. We aren't hunting. I am. I took you along to keep you safe. Since that... hrm, thing, you are not safe. I've seen the way chief Soryia looks at you, her knuckles white and her eyes unblinking. I took you along because yeti hunting means we go down and down means closer to the damnable dwarfs and their halls."

"Dwarves? They're bloodthirsty, they'll cut me down!"

"If we approached their outpost together, then yes. You're going to come down alone, frightened and in rags. And this day you can count yourself lucky, that you were deemed unworthy of the tribe's ritual marks. You will cry, say you escaped and that you wish to go Cordor to find your dad"

"Dad's not in Cordor"

Hildur snapped: "No, and for the love of Uthgart don't seek him out. That's just what you'll say to get the dwarves to plop you on a boat with as few questions as possible." She poked Aysa with her longbow. "Give me your things; bow, boots and hides. Put this on instead"

Aysa hesitated, remembering how many scraps and fights she had had to endure to be allowed to dress as her tribesmen, how she'd lived with their questioning of her worthiness for years.

"Don't get attached to people, don't get attached to things, Aysa."

She handed over the bow, lovingly crafted by Hildur herself as a gift. Then slipped out of her hides and put on the torn rags instead.

Hildur ruffled the girl's already messy red hair. "I'll miss you, wyrd sister. But you know that if you return, we will be enemies".

Aysa put her feed down and crossed arms.

"I'm not going!"

Hildur pointed down the mountain

"There's the dwarven outpost. And yes you are." She poked Aysa's chest with the bow again but this time with force. Asya hadn't noticed she was standing on a ledge, and now she was tumbling down the slope making enough of a racket to make sure that the dwarves on watch would see through their masterfully crafted telescopes.

Hildur took a look down at the red-haired girl as she rolled down and smiled sadly to herself. "I really do hope, you don't return, wyrd-sister." She smiled a sad little smile and made her way up the mountains again to avoid confrontations with with the incoming dwarven patrol.
Last edited by Jagel on Sun Jul 09, 2017 9:49 pm, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
Jagel
Posts: 1250
Joined: Tue Sep 09, 2014 3:50 pm
Location: Scandinavia

Re: Juxtaposed happenstance

Post by Jagel » Sat Jul 08, 2017 9:27 pm

Story time

A quiet day in the spires is beautiful but the cold makes you think twice before halting and admiring the breathtaking scenery. The people who live up there have adapted and found ways to survive.

Aysa looked up at her father who was not brought up in the mountains. He was wearing heavy fur coat - yeti accord to him - and assorted leathers and furs over the scale mail he insisted on wearing. The born and bred folk of the Black Widow tribe shook their heads at the stubborn man in the strange armor. It was a highly impractical thing to wear when not in battle.

"What is a guard when he lets his guard down, hrm?", her father would remark sternly when someone would try to convince him to wear more sensible clothes. This would happen routinely as they moved camp seeing that Richard de Trouilles in his heavy, creaking scales would often delay the tribe's journey.

Today there'd be no delays as the camp was sheltered on a high peak, the hunters had returned with plenty of meats and there were no signs of danger so far. No dwarven patrols, no expeditions from the lands far below, no wyrms in the sky... a quiet day.

Aysa could see that her father was in one of his moods. He stood still staring down into the mists way below. Now and then he would narrow his eyes and mutter something about injustice, betrayal or damnation. Aysa bit her lip. If she didn't manage to cheer him up he would most likely cause trouble at dinner. On the other hand her attempts at easing his mood sometimes failed spectacularly.

She mostly had luck asking about tales of Light Keep, beacon of hope, home of the righteous, sole bastion against the armies of the hells. She had heard his stories many times and loved the rich imagery he conjured as he remembered and recounted.

"Tell me a story about the knights of Benwick, daddy!", she said excitedly grabbing a hold of the halberd her father was leaning against.

He silently turned his gaze towards Aysa. For a moment she thought he didn't recognize her. Then he nodded before hemming and flatly stating:

"This halberd is mine to wield. My duty - not yours." She instinctively let go of the polearm's shaft.

He nodded again and turned his eyes back towards the lowlands far away.

"Knights. Knights are sight to behold. Valiant defenders, relentles pursuers of holy justice. Light Keep was home to the greatest and most selfles, righteous knights."

Aysa smiled as her father dreamily started naming various renowned knights he had followed into battle over the years. Then a shadow passed on his features.

"Knights do great deeds. But their defining characteristic is that they die. They all die and leave the rest of us to mourn in the wake of their failure."

Aysa bit her lip again. She dreaded another dinner being shunned from the fires, eating left-overs with her brooding and weird father. She had heard some of the older barbarian warriors mumble that he should have died and her mother lived. Aysa found herself bearing a similar wish in her heart.

User avatar
Jagel
Posts: 1250
Joined: Tue Sep 09, 2014 3:50 pm
Location: Scandinavia

Re: Juxtaposed happenstance

Post by Jagel » Sun Jul 09, 2017 10:09 pm

Strange turn

The immense cavern was all but pitch black but still Aysa locked eyes on her target. The giant's silhoutte was discernable and the scraping sound made in his efforts to pick up another boulder to hurl at his enemies made it even easier to pin-point him.

Aysa raised her shield and clenched the handle of her hand axe as she charged towards the giant. Hopes was she could dance around him, keep him busy until her companions could sweep in and help bring down the hulking humanoid.

She almost stumbled and made a series of akward spasms but she kept running. Large cracks came from somewhere. Her bones?

The giant had managed to get a hold of the boulder. He yelled, raising it over its head, ready to throw.

In an "out-of body"-moment Aysa, the frail red-haired girl, saw herself pick up speed and decide jump head fist into the giant's chest. Only she wasn't the frail red-haired girl.

Almost level with the giant the impact of her charge hit the giant hard enough to make him stumble backwards and drop the stone. Aysa brought down her axe with both hands, splitting the giant's skull. He fell to his knees, stretched his arm forward grabbing for something to hold onto, crush or whatever. Then fell on his stomach with a large thud. Dead.

Aysa looked at her furry hands and grumbled in a voice much deeper than the one she was used to: "This was unexpected...". Then she snorted.

The elven mage was leaning against his staff. His expression was as tranquil as it had been the entire journey but with a small perk of one eyebrow he remarked "Yes. There's a suprising turn of events. Interesting".

The summoned frog-man - did he call it a slaad? - just stared ahead blankly. Apparently this was in no way interesting as far as it was concered.

"Let's move on then", she said her voice still deep and gravelly.

User avatar
Jagel
Posts: 1250
Joined: Tue Sep 09, 2014 3:50 pm
Location: Scandinavia

Re: Juxtaposed happenstance

Post by Jagel » Wed Jul 12, 2017 3:35 pm

A note from the editor: as is evident, the blurbs of young Aysa's life and adventures are not presented chronologically. Piece together your own version at will

User avatar
Jagel
Posts: 1250
Joined: Tue Sep 09, 2014 3:50 pm
Location: Scandinavia

Re: Juxtaposed happenstance

Post by Jagel » Wed Jul 12, 2017 3:48 pm

"I like it here. At the same time I am not really sure I belong. Know what I mean?"

Aysa glanced over her shoulder to see if the dancing dryad would - by some weird turn - answer this time. She merely danced on to some inner rythm or melody. Aysa shrugged. In some ways it was nice having someone to talk to and not feel alone while also avoiding the judgement and questions other conversations might have yielded.

"Also... I know that the ruins of Benwick is so close to this place. A well-aimed shot with a longbow if rumours are true. I really want to go there. I've dreamt about the place for most of my childhood. But every time I come here to the Heartwood I find excuses to linger and to wander off South towards Bendir again. Weird, ain't it?"

The dryad, eyes still closed, traced a pattern in the air. A dull trail of some sort of glowing spirit energy followed the tree-spirits oustretched index finger.

"Well. Wind at your back and all, miss dryad. I'm off."

She left the Heartwood and wandered past the dancing lights above the ponds of the Silver Glade. When she reached the road she quietly pondered for a moment. Then she took a right and picked up the pace towards the shallow parts of the wood.

"Probably dangerous going to those ruins anyways..", she mumbled.

User avatar
Jagel
Posts: 1250
Joined: Tue Sep 09, 2014 3:50 pm
Location: Scandinavia

Re: Juxtaposed happenstance

Post by Jagel » Thu Jul 20, 2017 8:18 am

From Aysa's scribbles

Over the last few days I took another round through the known refuges: outside Myon, Bendir, Greyhammer. As I write this I am on a caravan from Bendir to Mayfield's and the Arcane Tower and from there I move by foot to Cordor and the refugee camp in the Northern parts of Cordor's frontier.

On the days leading up to the final sacking and razing of Wharftown I spent my time on the roads looking for stragglers, people on the move. Found very few traces of traffic from Wharftown to wherever. Also I did not encounter a single group of people fleeing the carnage. Usually they are easy to track down: overfilled carts, too few beasts of burden, lamenting women, slow elderly folks and crying babes. Nothing.

And the camps have been all but empty. A few people here and there but in no way are even a handful of the people of Wharftown accounted for.

New note, later the same day


I have arrived at the farmsteads that used to have masses of tents, supplies and the like. Seems the shelters have been moved inside the city walls.

At Mayfield's it was the same story as the other campsites. Almost noone there. A few merchants had the good sense to relocate, new houses have been built for the wealthy who lost property in the conflict. What are the farmers and fishermen to do with that?

I should not have spent several days going deep into the giant caves with that elf. Blast me and my curious nature, this seems much more important and now the tracks are cold and truth has been muddled. And now I might never know. But here are the facts:

- An entire city was levelled. Ruins now occupied by bandits preying on passer-by's and scavengers.
- No masses of people have left evidence of their passing in ways I have been able to uncover
- Cordor's officials and their hired mercenaries have taken great efforts to spread word that they have aided the poor souls who lost everything in the bombing
- Wharftown's leaders, instrumental in bringing about the conflict, seem to have gotten out in time. What happened to captains going down with the ship?

I feel like I'm missing something. Tired, need to sleep. I will do a round inside Cordor's walls and then I'll grab a room at the Nomad for the night.

Post Reply