Tales from the Vale

Discussion in 'The Library' started by FireLotus, Aug 1, 2014.

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  1. FireLotus

    FireLotus Royal Bard & Master Dabbler Dev Emeritus

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    We are looking for our first pieces of “fan fiction” to begin creating books and shelving the Libraries of Novia. In this first round, I am specifically looking for tales about your adventures in The Vale. Works that meet the following guidelines will be reviewed by myself and a soon to be formed Council of Scribes, sent to Lord British for approval, and if accepted, will be published in game over the course of several upcoming releases.

    Very cool, huh?

    So now on to the Guidelines:
    • Stories should be no more than 300-500 words. As an example, all Through the Lunar Rift stories are around 500 words. There is no minimum word count, for all you Haiku fans out there. ;)
    • Fan fiction can take multiple forms including poetry, song lyrics, sonnets, journal entries, folk-tales, or short stories; as long as the word count limit is maintained.
    • Collections, like poetry or fables, would also be awesome, as long as the collected works do not exceed 500 words.
    • Tales should be set in the Vale and may include references to any NPC or location within the Vale.
    • Vale NPC’s and locations must be consistent with actual gameplay. (For example, describing Braemar as being populated by pirates or saying that you are the new Ruler of Owl’s Head, or even Owl’s Nest, would not be acceptable.)
    • Stories including other player characters or Dev characters without their consent will likely not be approved/accepted.
    • Submitted pieces may be edited for grammar and spelling. Content revisions, however, will not occur without the author’s consent.

    The ability for a player to publish a book in game (tech-wise) is not ready yet, so this is our way of pre-populating some of the player books AND testing out the tech we have to do so. There is really no deadline or limit to the amount of submissions we are accepting at this point, except of course, we’ll have to review and then enter everything in time for content lock. BUT, these first books will have Lord British’s and the Council of Scribes seal of approval! Think of them as limited editions!

    I will be calling for player lore on other areas and events in the future. Like I said, this is a first run to help us test out the process, both for submission, and for approval/publishing. If you would like some examples of the types of stories I’m looking for, just read through the Through the Lunar Rift stories. They will hopefully lend some inspiration. :)

    Please only post your final draft in this thread. You may post works in process in the Scribe’s Circle sub-forum if you wish to collaborate or collect feedback from others.

    Sorry folks... :oops:

    Moving forward, player written fiction will be introduced into the game world through the in-game book publishing system (which will be available in a future release) or as the result of community driven contests.

    Edited by FireLotus
     
  2. Drocis the Devious

    Drocis the Devious Avatar

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    Notes on my travels to Kingsport, Part I

    Beneath all humanity stirs an undercurrent of hopelessness and despair. Knowing that we are all connected in some way is little comfort to the reality that perhaps the greatest connection we share is the fact that one day we will all die. If not here in New Britannia then back in our own world, for even an Avatar's immortality is limited.

    Kingsport is no different. Beyond the troubled townsfolk who work and trade on the surface of this peaceful village by the sea, there are cursed remains from the past that walk the darkened halls of the sewers below. It is here that I first witnessed the reanimated shells of the living in the form of skeletal guardsman. An axe for one, a sword for another, these once men attacked me as soon as I was within range. Most of my spells were of no consequence and I quickly learned that fire was one of the only ways to defend myself from their relentless onslaught.

    In the end, I lay near death and two piles of smoldering bones. But I survived with the strength to investigate the cursed wrecks. Both were unrecognizable from one another, dripping with caramelized ashen bone, and their weapons appeared to be of low quality. Perhaps these were the spoils of others that had been foolish enough to enter the sewers alone. But one pile contained a different substance I had not seen before. Filmy and sticky to the touch, this black grey compound had the consistency of jam and the smell of dung. I collected what I could for further study, and found that as I did the substance began to naturally form into a ball. The rest I reluctantly wiped off on my robes.

    Sensing I was not strong enough to continue further into the sewers on my own, I retreated back to the naïve surface of Kingsport with many questions still left unanswered. Who created these dark souls? What were they guarding? Why Kingsport? And more importantly, how do I get this sticky black grey dung off my robes?

    Baron Drocis Fondorlatos
    1st Chancellor of the Tower of Arcane Knowledge and Alchemy

    Approved ~ FireLotus
     
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  3. Gabriel Nightshadow

    Gabriel Nightshadow Avatar

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    The Arena

    Gabriel Nightshadow stood anxiously in the arena holding area of the Bear Tavern Brawl in Owls Head. Participating in this tournament had originally seemed like a good idea, but now that he got his first glimpse of his opponent, Gabriel was plagued with doubt. A fierce looking, but beautiful, red headed warrior clad in augmented plate, Caska DiFumarate seemed mesmerized as she peered through the gate at the match currently in progress. Suddenly, she turned, smiled at Gabriel, and made a throat cutting gesture! Gabriel gulped.

    “You two are next!”, shouted the Battle Master, pointing to Gabriel and Caska. “Follow me!”

    The crowds roared as they entered and took their positions by the stone pillars. Gabriel looked up into the stands and was heartened to see two of his good friends, Asclepius and a fellow Outlander who called himself Time Lord, cheering him on. Gabriel had enjoyed great success with using fire, lightning, and blade attacks against the elves roaming the forests near Kingsport and the vicious kobolds which had been launching attacks on Lord Ferig’s battle camp, but a human foe was something quite different.

    “Combatants ready?”, asked the Battle Master.

    Both Gabriel and Caska nodded to the Battle Master.

    “Fight!”, yelled the Battle Master.

    Gabriel quickly drew his great sword and ran towards his opponent while attempting to cast Fire Arrow. The spell failed as she ran out of range.

    Caska cast Death Bolt. Gabriel tried to dive out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough.

    Gabriel felt a bit better after casting Healing Ray. He cast Fireball, but Caska managed to avoid the brunt of the attack and was only slightly singed.

    Gabriel finally managed to stun her temporarily with Lightning, but as he ran towards her, Caska drained his health with a Death Touch spell. She used Inner Strength to unleash a barrage of attacks with her Vanduul polearm. Gabriel tried to counter with Double Slash and Rend attacks , but soon felt Death’s cold embrace.

    After Gabriel regained consciousness, he congratulated his foe.

    “You did pretty well out there for an amateur, Gabriel!”, said Caska. “With a bit more training, you could do well in the arena.”

    “Thank you for your words of encouragement, Caska! I will do as you suggest.”, replied Gabriel. “I hope to test my combat skills against yours again next month!”

    Caska bowed and said, “As do I.”

    After Gabriel left the arena, he paused for a moment to look up into the dark night sky at the shattered moon, Daedalus. I think I have learned all that I can from the combatants here in Owls Head, he thought to himself. Best to seek further training elsewhere, Gabriel mused, as he stepped through the lunar rift...
    Approved ~ FireLotus
     
  4. languard

    languard Avatar

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    I realize that the Shardfall sestina is technically not set 'in' the vale, though it's creation could be attributed to a Vale resident. If that disqualifies it from this round no worries, I'll wait until a more general call goes out. Or I do have some word count left over, I could have 'Languard' talk about finding it in an old Shardfall underground shelter, though that obviously has not happened yet since it isn't in the game yet.

    In the past hung two moons,
    Gentle night so cool.
    The lake shining with silver glare,
    with all the night taking a moment to be still.
    Smoothly swaying with no chaos,
    a gentle and loving lunar dance.


    But what is this in the dance?
    Why do you move there moon?
    Should we fear this new chaos,
    Let our lunar passion cool?
    The night may be still,
    but the water has an ominous glare.


    Red light glinting on water in a fearsome glare,
    No longer a gentle lunar dance.
    One more gentle moment when all is still...
    Tearing rending, with thunder two become one moon.
    Heat and raging streaks of fire replace night’s cool.
    Absolute. Unrelenting. Chaos.


    Smoke and thunder twirling in chaos,
    the lake holding red death’s glare.
    Death spreads to kin, now so cool.
    Seeking shelter in a morbid dance,
    what more do you wish for us moon?
    When will you again be still?


    But if you will not relent, we will not be still.
    Virtue will shine in the chaos.
    Look up and see the shards of the new moon,
    casting and flickering across the lake’s glare.
    With strength and stride we dance,
    and wait for the night to cool.


    With time passed, the fires are cool.
    Once again the night is still.
    With new heart and name, Daedalus does her dance.
    Virtue hidden but virtue still, re-forged by chaos.
    In the lake many shards of light glare,
    a gift of our new shattered moon.


    Virtue shines best in the fires of chaos,
    but take care you don’t lose sight in the glare.
    Daedalus drifts along, the face of the new moon.

    I like it! Maybe for R10 ~ FireLotus
     
  5. Browncoat Jayson

    Browncoat Jayson Legend of the Hearth

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    King's Wharf

    (This page appears to have been removed from a journal; the author is unknown.)

    The ship that brought me to Kingsport was little more than a dinghy with a mast. Seven days it took, riding up breakers and crashing down to surf, to get from Port Graff. Now mining gems is a backbreaking life, but you are less likely to be killed by pirates or an errant storm while underground. From stories, I expected an idyllic place of farmers and sheep, not the dreary port that awaited me. I don't know which king this place is supposedly named for, but I imagine he's a rat about a span tall; king of the wharves! I was a fool to leave Graff, and now I wish for nothing more than a way to return.

    The Vale, 'twas said, was a place to go where the Oracle's eyes would not follow. I have nothing against the steel lady herself, you understand, but those mechanical monstrosities send shivers up my spine. The whole mainland is infested with the things, but I figured here would be better. But an hour off the water, sitting beneath the sign of the Hearth of New Britannia, I watch one of the multi-legged things crawl up through the bars of a sewer gate.

    I'm not a nosy sort, you understand, but after a few minutes I crawled down the nearby rungs and pulled open the grate, entering the dark recess beneath the docks. It was black as pitch, but a nearby box holds a dozen torches, so I borrowed one and ignited it from a handy sconce. The sewers branch, seemingly at random, so I picked a direction in the same manner, soon coming upon a pool. From the debris within, I have a sense that the mayor's privy may be located just above this area, so I turned to leave the way I had come.

    A dozen feet from me stood what was once a man.

    The beast still wore the blasted remnants of leather armor, and the rusted head of its mace swung just inches from the stonework. However, no flesh showed beneath the gaps; indeed, the entire dermis was missing, yet the bones stood as though still encased. Its jaw dropped into a rictus grin as it raised its weapon. Had I my pickaxe, I might have stood a chance against even such a perversion of nature, but I was unarmed. So, as it swung, I darted to the side, narrowly avoiding a fatal concussion, and ran as fast as my legs would carry me.

    Once I reached daylight, I went immediately to the guard, but they dismissed my tale. I even went to the mayor, having to interrupt his seemingly endless chat with the local Guildmistress. For my troubles, I was escorted from the premises and told to lay off the ale. The nerve!

    I found brief employ at a warehouse, which earned me enough to stay for the week in one of the hovels near the waterfront. As soon as a seaworthy vessel makes port, I'll be aboard, and begging Ol' Graff to take me back. It can't be long...

    Approved ~ FireLotus
     
  6. Vyrin

    Vyrin Avatar

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    Mark's Tales of the Unremarkable, Number 27
    The Farmer in the Vale

    Day 190, post adventus

    On my way back from Kingsport, I passed another traveler on the road. He was pulling a large cart.

    "Good day sir and what is it you do?"

    "I'm a farmer."

    "And what do you farm?"

    "Wheat for the townfolk of the Vale."

    "What do you think of the current situation in the Vale?"

    "Eh. Yeah. Not much."

    "Really? With all that's going on?"

    "Well two weeks ago, yeah I think that's when it was. Had to kill a skeleton that tried to come into the house one night, that wasn't so fun."

    "Don't you worry about what might happen to your farm?"

    "Look sir, I know you mean well. But I'm used to taking the little this broken down world gives me. All I try to do is give back more than I get. I remember seeing a maid one day as she danced with the wheat through my pa's fields. It was all I needed to see. I knew she just fit here, and she felt it too. Now I have three little ones. The oldest is almost ready to be of real help to me. They're strong. They fit here too. My Vale is what I got right here. I don't worry about more than that."
     
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  7. jay_rab

    jay_rab Avatar

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    Permission is given to edit grammar, spelling, and make content revision without prior notice to me as long as I am cited for the work​
    Mountains​
    Of​
    Danger​


    By Jay Sanless​

    "Don't take light heartily a trek in the mountains for what is worst then elves is the spiders who nest in the cavities of the rocks."​

    Unlike many parts of the region the mountains are not the kindest of friends for travelers and even seasoned knights and guards have ended up poisoned by spiders or injured by making the wrong turn into an elves camp while passing through its carved out paths, but even then the views one can steal may be worth the risk like some of the old statues that can be found among the paths that stand twelve times taller then the biggest man. While should an adventurer want to test their luck with a pick; the passes are filled with rare ores that could make a person rich should they be able to stay alive between the bears clawing at them, the spiders trying to poison with their fangs, and elves shooting bows as well as charging at adventurers with their swords. Yes treading lightly in these parts is the only way to make sure you still have all your limbs connected to your body and while going alone could make you rich it is highly suggested you go with a party of skilled fighters to clear the masses so that you can collect the ores in peace.
     
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  8. Womby

    Womby Avatar

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    Journey to Kingsport
    According to his hastily scribbled map the tavern was somewhere in Kingsport. He wasn’t entirely sure though.
    The information was incomplete, and it had taken hours of torture to extract that information from Lord Xychra. Not much of a result after investing all that valuable time.
    Still, Lord Xychra had mentioned an associate and a tavern in Kingsport. If there was loot to be found, he had best make his way there.

    After locating the tavern nestled by the Kingsport docks, Dhank stepped inside to discover a small, dimly lit bar that had obviously seen better days.
    The only occupant was the bartender, who paused what he was doing to glance up. A slightly raised eyebrow demanded an explanation for this intrusion.
    "Lord Xychra sent me" said Dhank. "He has directed me to collect his belongings, and asked me to show you this as proof".
    With that he dropped Lord Xychra's ring on the bar. The same ring that less than 24 hours earlier he had removed from his Lordship’s severed finger, as he lay screaming in a pool of blood.
    Slowly the bartender picked up the ring and examined it carefully. "Very well. Wait here while I fetch the key and write down some directions.” With that the barman left the room, and Dhank replaced the ring on his finger.
    The barman eventually returned with a rough parchment and a large iron key. “Follow these directions, and they’ll take you to Lord Xychra’s associate. I have no doubt that he’ll be very helpful in carrying out Lord Xychra’s wishes.

    Following the directions was straightforward, as the location was only a short walk away, beneath the docks. The key opened a door into the town sewer, and Dhank slowly made his way forward, cursing his oversight in not bringing a torch.
    He could no longer see the map and inched forward slowly, first following the wall on his left, then the wall on his right before becoming hopelessly disoriented.
    Eventually the passage he was in led to a small platform overlooking a large channel filled with a dark and menacing liquid. It might have been water, but Dhank wasn’t about to bet his life on it.
    Suddenly he found himself rooted to the spot as he was struck by a spell cast from somewhere behind him. Dhank heard footsteps circle around him, then a torch flickered to life revealing the bartender who had sent him here.

    “You should feel honoured.” The bartender came closer as he spoke, and Dhank could see that he wore a butcher’s apron and carried a large set of knives hanging from a leather belt around his waist.
    On the opposite side of the platform, visible for the first time in the light of the torch, Dhank could see a butcher’s station, a tanning station and an alchemy station.
    “Not everyone is selected for harvesting by his Lordship. He only sends about one a month. Now, let’s start with that finger.”
     
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  9. rune_74

    rune_74 Avatar

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    The Hunter

    One heart beat.

    He slowly pulls back on the string of his bow, his muscles tensing under the strain of the string between his fingers. His focus shifts through the branches and bushes between him and deer standing peacefully in the shade of the popular trees.

    Two heart beats.

    He senses a moment of peace, embracing the feel of sureness that courses through him. He can feel perspiration on his brow, as if he too was covered in dew like the plants around him.

    Three heart beats.

    Slowly he brings his focus down upon the deer, nothing exits around him. He is alone, the world shifts zooming in on the frightened animal. Tonight, his family would eat.

    Four heart beats.

    He releases the arrow, giving flight to the hawk feathered shaft as it races towards the beating heart of the deer. Innocence and fate streak through the air in an unavoidable collision. He lets go of his focus and lowers his bow.

    A solid thunk is greeted by short exhale of pain from the deer. He has shot true, it was swift and just. He stands and gathers his cloak, warding off the sudden chill he feels as he walks towards the life he has stolen.

    Kneeling by the deer, he mumbles a small prayer, giving thanks for the nourishment the deer will provide. He cleans and gathers the animal, shouldering the small lifeless body and makes his way home to his family; a hunter returns.
     
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  10. Drocis the Devious

    Drocis the Devious Avatar

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    Notes on my travels to Kingsport, Part II

    Like many buildings in Kingsport, the lighthouse was empty. But why the keeper had wandered off was more commentary than mystery. Recent events had made the need for a lighthouse obsolete, as the trade ships from the Novia coast that once frequented the port town had stopped arriving months ago.

    Standing at the top of the towered structure, I warmed to the fired pit of the beacon in the cool night air. Looking out into the sea at the empty calm where moonlight met the horizon, I pondered the fate of this poor town.

    Gazing on the shipless port, I was reminded of the fable known as The Lost Mice.

    The first mouse, the provider, went out in search of food for his family. When he did not return, the second mouse, the mother, went out in search of the father. When the mother did not return, the children starved. One child, barely able to move, krept out to look for its mother and father. There was no sign of them, instead all the child could see was two large glowing orbs, a slit down the center of each.​

    The lesson from the story is that sometimes the things we lose are lost for a reason.

    The first ships went out but did not return. When more were sent to search for those who were lost, they too did not come back. Now the children of Kingsport fear to look further, for they may find not two but a single eye staring back at them.

    Baron Drocis Fondorlatos
    1st Chancellor of the Tower of Arcane Knowledge and Alchemy
     
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  11. Justicevalla

    Justicevalla Avatar

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    My living nightmare Part 1

    It is not often one finds them self wishing they had been in another place at the time of Historical
    events. Unless those events made them question the world they are living in.

    It was a Peaceful night, Our guild just finished its weekly Sunday night Charity Fair.
    I always loved the Syndicate, they put others before themselves, help those in need, and trained
    The Future of britannia's Soldiers, Mages, and tamers to protect the innocent. We all know that once in
    a while there is a rouge in the ranks that tried to do something to change how things are run.
    But this time they went to far.

    I was heading back to my home when I felt a strange sensation flow through
    my body, my whole being. I stopped in my tracks and looked around. I couldn't see anything in the
    newly formed fog behind me so I turned back towards home only to see a Bright purple and black
    swirl of fog rushing towards me and smack me right in the face.

    I am not sure how much time had but I felt the ground was no longer soft but hard.
    I felt a person to my right grabbing my arm to help me up. He was saying a name but
    I didn't recognise it. I looked to him as my sight had come back and I flinched at their strange
    garb and all the sights and sounds I was being subjected to. I stumbled back and a Huge horseless
    carrage was coming at me. The guy Pulled me back out of the way of the huge beast as it
    Honked loudly at me. I looked to him and said "Thank you Kind sir", He just smiled.
    I then Bowed to him and said "Sorry for my rudeness. But whom are you and
    where might I be?". He flinched then said "I'm Private first class Smitt, Lieutenant are
    you okay? You must have hit your head really hard". After hearing him call me Lieutenant I took a
    step back, all the noise, the bright colors, lights all over, I felt a Huge headache coming on and it
    was not just because of the surroundings, but because It had finally clicked.
    Some Idiot that the Syndicate helped that night by giving ingredients for potions and spells.
    One of those Innocent people. Sent me to Hell, Or at least a Living Nightmare.

    To be Continued
     
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  12. Womby

    Womby Avatar

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    Malevolent Forces

    Dear Diary,
    My delight at finally acquiring my own home in Kingsport has been tempered recently by the discovery of a mysterious, incomprehensible entity that is dogging my footsteps.
    I first noticed it when I attempted to arrange some books on my bookshelf. They refused to stand up.
    Then, while carrying a remarkably oversized potato to the kitchen, I found that the carpet was following me.
    I tried to escape it by climbing the ladder to the roof, but was unable to do so. Something inexplicable was preventing me from making the ascent.
    Next I resorted to lighting candles. Lots of candles, in the hope of purging the forces of darkness. As I did so, however, I found my movements becoming more and more sluggish, until eventually I could barely move at all.

    Tomorrow I shall seek advice on how to free my home of these malevolent forces.
     
  13. Vyrin

    Vyrin Avatar

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    Mark's Tales of the Unremarkable, Number 1​
    Introduction​

    Hello reader, my name is Mark. The first unremarkable tale I will tell is me. You see, I just woke up in the Vale one day. No light, no disorientation, no unexplainable phenomena. I went to bed one day back in my apartment, and woke up in the Vale, wherever this is. My first thoughts here were pretty straightforward. I figured I had to find something to eat and a place to live and that's what I did. I stumbled onto an abandoned cottage outside Owl's Head with four walls and a solid roof. I'm still hoping the owners are gone, not dead really, just not coming back.​

    Since I was a court reporter, I figured I could offer my services as a scribe. Lord Enmar and a few other nobles give me work now and then. I don't need much so it's a steady job. To fill my time I travel around and talk to all the other unremarkable people of the Vale. For some reason I feel I have more in common with them than my outlander brethren. I'm not the type to stare off into the distance with my chin upraised and a furrowed brow. Nor do I feel like crafting stories fraught with breathless enthusiasm for adventure. There are mundane things here too and this world is more than a playground for those of us from elsewhere.​

    All I know is that if you're still reading, you must not have much to do with your time. That makes you pretty unremarkable too.​
     
  14. Womby

    Womby Avatar

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    Lord Mayor Peter Hargrove,

    Please do not misinterpret what I am about to write. I love Kingsport, and (most of) the people who live here. Having said that though, I feel the need to point out a few things that have become glaringly obvious as I have settled into this delightful town.

    Firstly, the town gates. Take for example the coastal entrance. I refer specifically to the inability of the lone guard on duty to close the gates if the town is attacked, because there are in fact no town gates!

    Secondly, the rising incidence of crime. I recall a time in my youth when people respected each other's personal property.

    Yet what do I see now? Some trusting citizen has left a trunk on the end of a pier, and I see many people, some of whom I recognise, blatantly removing items from it in broad daylight!

    Thirdly, while I have no wish to make false accusations, I suspect that a certain unsavoury character loitering in the vicinity of the docks is up to no good. He may in fact be selling contraband, and I for one do not understand why the town guard has thus far failed to investigate.

    Lastly, we have all heard the strange sounds emanating from the sewer. Why has no-one investigated? Surely this is not beyond the capabilities of our local law enforcement.

    I remain as ever, your loyal citizen,

    Womby Fluffington
     
  15. reebdoog

    reebdoog Avatar

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    A Tale For Young Men​
    With Plans To Join​
    The Ranks Of​
    Scoundrels​
    By Reebdoog​
    "I could tell you about the thousands of golden coins run through my pockets or the hordes of ale pass through my belly but none will compare to the story of a scoundrels peril, boy." The little boy of maybe nine or ten looked up at the man who had wild, stiff, hair escaping his nostrils and flaps of hair covering his ears. It looked as if he had been wearing a leather archers helmet during a rain storm. His eyes were misshapen, one being the shape of an almond and the other a walnut, with what almost looked like cracks digging in around his cheeks. The boy looked at him and said "I....I'm...sorry sir." Just a few moments earlier the candy merchant caught the boy stuffing his pockets with his most savory caramel and peppermint sticks.​
    "Listen to me boy, I know your kind. And I got a little surprise just for you." The man sat him down on a bench resting against the wall. He clenched the boys arm so he couldn't escape as he gathered a deep breath and started singing:​
    "A boy of four and ten I was​
    a lookin' for some gold.​
    Robbed farmers and such​
    and gathered me much,​
    a fools boy to behold.​
    Kingsport men with silver swords​
    and shields of shiny gold​
    with ruby chains and golden crowns​
    the rich men to behold.​
    A man of nine and ten I was​
    a smugglin' far and wide.​
    The rich men never knew as much​
    amongst them I would hide.​
    Until one day we went a'dock​
    ship filled to the brim,​
    I made my coin and wandered home​
    heard whispers lined with grins.​
    See I got caught and didn't know​
    one thing had caught their eye,​
    I kicked a chicken that did stand out,​
    was something I couldn't hide.​
    A little girl of one and ten
    did see me sell her doll,
    she spied me kick a chicken then
    a chicken kicker behold."
    During the song the boy had calmed down and the man gave him a quick look up and down his length. He shrugged his shoulders and looked at the boy and said "The smuggler got caught because he liked to kick chickens... you can't be a simple man and break the law, boy. You might think you can get away with it, but stealin' things, now that's a real mans skill." He raised the boy to his feet by his arm and thrust him toward the door. The man looked down at some papers on his counter and said "Don't come back 'til you're a real man."​
     
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  16. Womby

    Womby Avatar

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    Cats

    Dear Diary,
    I love the sea. In my idle moments I would often sit by the docks in Kingsport and gaze at the horizon. As a result, I was the first to notice the cats.
    Now, you may think that the presence of cats near ships, especially fishing vessels, is no surprise, and normally you would be right. Only there are no ships.
    None have arrived for quite some time, and the cats that used to dwell on the docks have long since migrated to the various basements and sewers where mice and rats have taken up residence.

    At first there was only one cat. Jet black. Then it was joined by another, also black, and finally today I saw three black cats milling about the wharf.
    It is entirely possible of course that this is nothing to be concerned about, except that these cats are indistinguishable. I mean they are absolutely identical in every way.
    The thing that really raised my hackles however was when I noticed that one of the cats had two tails. As I watched in horrified fascination, what I thought was one cat separated into two identical cats.

    I no longer spend time by the docks. I believe the place is cursed, and I worry for the future. Something bad is coming, I just know it.
     
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  17. Womby

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    Where are the children?

    Dear Diary,
    I don’t know why, but it didn’t occur to me at first.
    Perhaps it was the general air of gloom that hangs over Kingsport.
    Then again, it might have been the distraction caused by being unceremoniously torn from my normal world into what I can only assume is some kind of alternate dimension.
    Regardless, I have just realised this morning that there are no children. I’ve seen adults, I’ve seen cats, I’ve even seen chickens wandering unconstrained about the marketplace. But no children.

    I tried asking a couple of the locals, but was unable to get a straight answer. I have not pursued the question further for fear of antagonising them, but I plan to investigate.
    I have heard strange sounds coming from the sewer - perhaps the answer lies there.
     
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  18. Gabriel Nightshadow

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    The Lost Children​

    When Gabriel Nightshadow emerged from the lunar rift in Kingsport, it was very late at night. The streets were deserted. He had just returned from Lord Ferig’s battle camp, where he had helped the camp guards repulse wave after wave of attacks from vicious kobolds for the past hour, a good test of his combat and magic skills. Gabriel had hoped to test his skills against human opponents on the island of Brave Coast in preparation for tomorrow’s Bear Tavern Brawl, but due to the late hour, had found no one there to challenge.

    As Gabriel walked out of town and down the long winding road to his home in Greystone, he had time to think. One thing had greatly bothered him since he had arrived here in New Britannia. There were no children anywhere! The previous evening he had mentioned this to his good friend, Time Lord, while they had had a few mugs of ale at the Bear Tavern in Owls Head. Time Lord had speculated that the children might have been abducted by either zombies or cannibals, but in all of his travels, Gabriel had yet to encounter such creatures. The only undead he had come across were skeletons and liches, who seemed more interested in killing people, rather than eating them. Even more disconcerting was the fact that when Gabriel questioned the good citizens of the Hidden Vale, they seemed unfazed by the fact that there no children around at all! Gabriel wondered if they were all under the influence of some sort of spell and had “forgotten” that their children even existed. If that was the case, there was powerful, dark magic at work here…but that was a mystery for another day. Now he had to focus on tomorrow afternoon’s Bear Tavern Brawl in the arena in Owls Head.

    Gabriel yawned as he passed the stone archway marking the entrance to Greystone. As he walked down the path towards his Founder Lord town home, he heard someone call out to him. It was his good friend, Lord Baldrith, who had also chosen to settle down here in this community.

    Gabriel was surprised that Lord Baldrith was still up at this late hour crafting and went over to speak with him. Lord Baldrith apologized that he would not be able to attend Gabriel’s match the next day because of pressing business elsewhere, but assured him that Time Lord and Asclepius would be there to cheer him on. He presented Gabriel with a great sword he had just forged that evening, to replace the one which Gabriel had “misplaced” the day before. Gabriel thanked Lord Baldrith for the gift and promised to do his best in the tournament.

    After entering his nearby home, Gabriel walked upstairs to his bedroom, removed his armor and clothes, and soon fell asleep. But Gabriel did not sleep well that night, for he was haunted by the cries of the lost children begging him to find them…
     
  19. Womby

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    The Perfect Crime

    It should have been the perfect crime.
    An informant had told Gratnor that Sir Ewan Masterton had the most impressive collection of gemstones in the entire Vale.
    He also told Gratnor that Sir Ewan spent every Friday evening in the Hearth Inn after sending his only servant on a weekly supply trip to Owl’s Head. His Knight Marshall tower keep should therefore have been unoccupied.

    The entry was ingenious. The powerful stealth potion had been obscenely expensive, but Gratnor considered it a worthwhile investment as he managed to slip inside unnoticed when Sir Ewan left for the evening.
    Once inside, he headed straight for the hidden room that would surely be the place where valuables were kept.
    Entering the room proved no obstacle for someone who had spent many years honing his skills as a thief. Surprisingly however the room was empty, save for a trapdoor that apparently led to a basement of some kind.

    Cautiously Gratnor descended the ladder into the basement. Not wishing to alert any person or creature he might encounter, he felt his way along the wall in the dark.
    After several twists and turns Gratnor came up against what felt like iron bars. A loud clanging sound behind him caused him to freeze in his tracks, and he suddenly found himself locked in a cage on the edge of a large room, as various people in robes lit torches.
    In the centre of the room was a large altar.

    As one of the people in robes approached his cage he recognised the face of his informant, who smiled at him, then turned to his colleagues and said “It is time. The sacrifice has arrived.”
     
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  20. Womby

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    The Gift

    Slowly, ever so carefully, Feldring secured the final gem in place. The ornate cloak had taken several months to craft, and represented the culmination of his skills in textiles, tailoring and alchemy.
    All that remained was the final step. Once completed, the cloak would cause its wearer to age rapidly, proving fatal within the hour. After two hours, all that remained would be an easily disposed of skeleton.

    Feldring summoned all the skills resulting from many years of alchemy and completed the cloak.
    Tomorrow he would present it to his wife for her fiftieth birthday, and the day after he would be able to invite the attractive wench he had secretly been seeing to take her place.
    He had lost a lot of sleep working on this project and now, overcome with exhaustion, he collapsed onto the makeshift cot in his workshop and fell into a deep sleep.

    Shortly after, his wife Portia tapped on his door to inquire if she could bring him some food. Hearing no reply she tiptoed in and saw him lying unconscious on his cot.
    “Poor dear” she thought, “he works so hard.” The window had been blown open by the wind, making the room bitterly cold.
    With loving care Portia laid the newly completed cloak over Feldrings sleeping body, and quietly tiptoed out.
     
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