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March 2023 – Mysteries of the Village

Following the destruction of the bizarre dual idols in Clan Shattered Spear territory in January of this year, the villagers were able to return to their homes. The small smattering of unsavory individuals in the area had been cleansed of their strange illness and sent along their way. Not long went by before a report came from the village. It seems there was still a degree of ambient corruption in the area, though its source was not immediately observable. Worse yet the villagers reported that they had seen small groups of Mordok stalking through the woods at night. Word was sent out to gather a team to return to the area and cleanse the land of its blight.

In the following weeks the reports from the village grew fewer and farther between, but those that did were increasingly disturbing. By the end there was a report from a traveling merchant who tried to journey to the village, but he was unable to get close. Before he was even in eyesight, his cart was pelted with arrows from the treeline. He ran back the direction he came and heard voices jeering and insulting him as he did. He couldn’t make out everything they said, but swears they told him, “Go back to your swamp!”

Clan Shattered Spear leadership has taken these strange stories seriously and has again requested the aid of Truthseekers from Clan Spiritclaw as well as any other people willing to help to suss out the matter at hand and cleanse the land once and for all.

UPDATE:

Many gathered under the request of Clan Shattered Spear and returned to the thought-to-be-cleansed village. It became quickly apparent that there were still pockets of ambient corruption dotting the landscape and crews quickly set to work to locate them all so that they may be properly cleansed. During these outings small bands of Mordok were seen stalking through the woods, but far more alarming was the sight of the people of the nearby village. They immediately seemed off in some way that would come into focus the more they were interacted with.

Before long, the villagers shouted curses and brandished weapons at the adventurers, telling them things like that they should go back to their swamp and that Shattered Spear would never stand down from a fight. It became evidently clear that something had warped the minds of these villagers and they now saw what should be their allies as Mordok invaders. Additionally these villagers seemed to show some degree of reverence for the Mordok in the area. They were heard calling them “Nature Spirits” and “Land Wights”. They gave them a great berth on the trails, but at one point were seen coming to their aid in the fight.

The rest of the day was plagued by the presence of these strange villagers. The Shattered Spear Hersir and the rest of the adventurers made attempts to peacefully speak with them, or to try to capture them alive, but in the end they were unable to do so. All of this being said the day was not lost. All of the ambient corruption was stamped out and in the final hours a scout was able to at the least confirm the presence of a large corruption idol in the center of the mysterious village.

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Barnaby Bucksley

PLAYED BY: Matthew Timmons

CHARACTER NAME: Barnaby Bucksley

GENDER:  Male

PRONOUN(S): He/Him

CLASS: Warrior

AGE: 34

RACE: Human

HAIR: Dark brown almost black with a thicc beard

EYES: Blue

OCCUPATION: A bit of a tradesman. He knows a few things, but beyond occasionally helping others in mundane tasks, all he knows for sure is combat.

KNOWN SKILLS: Fighting and leading.

BIRTHPLACE: Unsure of where in Faedrun, he would have come over roughly around 260 at almost 18.

APPEARANCE: Tall and imposing. Clad in heavy plate mail, blackened with a tower shield and massive hammer.

NOTABLE TRAITS: Like above, the hammer is his most notable feature outwardly, beyond being completely head to go in armor. He has a thick “scottish” accent.

RELATIONSHIPS: He has encountered Brenna and Clanleader Hoskuld of Goldenfield and developed a friendship with both. He met Ragnar Riverhead in Onsallas and again in Shieldhaven.  He lived with an Ironmound family (Kinnith and his family) in Shattered Spear territory for almost a year, before traveling south and  meeting Kinnith’s grandfather, Milik, a notable blacksmith in Ironmound.

RUMORS: That Hammer Guy. A human with Ulven values.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

He felt both warm and cold… and wet, at the same time. Where was he? What day was it? With a heavy breath, and a great heave, he lurched himself forward, catching a knee and bracing himself against the morning ground. “Well”, he thought to himself. “It appears I’m in….wait. Where am I?”

“Wait…. What is my name”?

Looking around, he noticed an immense shield lying upon the ground near where he had awoken.  As he settled the shield against him, he noticed behind it a long, handled warhammer, deeply cracked in places, still in the grass. Leaning down once again, he grasped the handle and brought it to him. Having rung the hammer, he once again looked out into the vast field of grain, taking in the moment. Looking toward the sea,  he could see a small bay ahead. After a little less than an hour, he came to a bend in the road. Down this road, he spotted a distinct river bed that ran perpendicular and mostly up the hill a ways into some thick trees. The path ahead through the thickets seemed doable, and keeping the river to his right, he felt confident that he would inevitably reach what he thought would be a spring fed pool. After at least an hour of thick, rugged terrain, he emerged from the woods to a clearing with a beautiful pond fed by a cascading waterfall. Minutes later, he was in the middle of the body of water. After swimming for a while, moved back to dry land, stark naked, and turned his attention to his pile of armor. Holding his spaulders, he noticed that they, much like other pieces of his armor, bore years of dents and scrapes. As he rounded the top of the backplate, he caught something in the corner of the shoulder piece. Writing.

“Barnaby Bucksley y. 256”

“Barnaby Bucksley? What is that? Is that… me?” He thought to himself. He had never heard this name. “I’ve got nothing else. I guess that’s what I’ll call myself.”

“HEY! STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING!” Looking up, he could see, across the waterfall and on the other side of the pool, several Ulven men armed with axes and shields. 

Barnaby could hear the sound of the waterfall further and further distancing itself in the background, as he was dragged and led slowly through the thick brambles of the forest. 

“So…” Barnaby started, pushing another thick branch out of his face, that the Ulven woman had neglected to move aside for him. “What do I call my tall, imposing female guard who… seems… to be leading me ever deeper in an unknown direction”. 

“You can call me Brenna. Warleader Brenna.” She said, then turning her attention back forward, she stooped under several branches that proceeded to smack Barnaby in the face.

————————————————

“Well, Warleader. It appears you’ve brought me a human.” 

“Chief” Brenna stated, holding her head low and a hand to her chest.“We found this man bathing naked in the Ancient Pool. What should we do with him?”

After pausing for several minutes, he replied. “I think… we put him through the Skolgarb”.

Minutes later, Barnaby stood silently nearby as Brenna and Clanleader Hoskuld discussed amongst themselves. Tables had hastily been set up nearby with a bustling of Ulven clamoring about to set up for the Skolgarb.

“He SHOULD be beaten and exiled!” Brenna was bristling with contempt at this moment for her captive.

“And he might yet be. But, better to send him on his way, beaten or not, having learned something about the culture he exploited, don’t you think? Is it not better for him to understand WHY what he did was bad, rather than just pain being a reminder of his crime?”

Brenna stood silent. She knew he was right.

“Besides…” The Clanleader added, “I don’t think he understands exactly what’s in store for him”.

The sound of birds chirping woke Barnaby in a confused haze. Several moments passed in what felt and eternity, as his hungover sense attempted to rationalize his surroundings. 

“Well, it appears that you lost, human.”

“What do you mean *ugh* I lost”, Barnaby responded with a frustrated groan. 

 “You passed out before Thorgud. He managed to hang on the mere second that your face collided, rather comically, I might add, with the table. Be grateful the Clanleader found you so entertaining”.

The next several days passed quickly in the Ulven clan, as Barnaby made friends with many locals and was escorted around by Brenna. Standing on the outside of the North gate of Goldenfield proper, the two stood staring into the morning sun.

“Where will you go, outsi…er… Barnaby” Brenna asked, not making eye contact. It had been many years since she connected with anyone on such a friendly level, let alone a human. 

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

Turning away from Barnaby, she looked back Northward. “Well, you best be on.”

“Brenna…” he stated, holding an arm outstretched in comfort.

“The day gets hottest at noon, so you’ll want to stay close to the trees to the West. We are near the border of Spiritclaw and north of them is Steinjotunn. They are mostly friendly but not like Goldenfield. You’ll want to…” She trailed off, as she could feel the arms of Barnaby wrap themselves around her. 

“I’ll come back, you know” Barnaby stated. He stood there for several seconds simply holding her, before he could feel her own arms wrap around his midsection.

“You better…” She stated quietly. 

————————————————

“State your business in Onsallas”. Do you have business here or beyond the Shield?”

“Not particularly. This is just the next stop on my journey.”

“Then stay the night, then be on your way. We don’t have time for interlopers”. Several moments later, the large gate opened, and Barnaby continued into Onsallas.

The atmosphere within the tavern was filled with tense glares and hushed tones. 

“You there. Human.” Whatever the Ulven wanted, he wasn’t interested. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” 

The table suddenly lurched away from Barnaby’s reach. “Tell us… “The man started looking both at Barnaby and at his surrounding Ulven. “Who won the honor duel?”

“The what now?” 

“Outside. Now”. The Ulven man let go of Barnaby and shoved him toward the door. The rain had begun to fall that evening, with the pittering of raindrops falling on his armor. Barnaby walked into a developing clearing of many people and after clearing the circle, he turned and faced his opponent. Standing there was the same man who had pinned him against the wall, but he carried no weapons.

“Umm.. I assume you’re wanting to fight, but I think you’re missing a few things” 

“Ragnar!” Behind the man and through several others standing in the perimeter of the circle, an even larger Ulven man with yellow eyes emerged from the group, into the clearing. He carried a large, circular shield, and had an axe at his side. 

“So,” Barnaby stated. “You must be Ragnar”. Barely a second later, the Ulven ran across the clearing in an unworldly feat of speed and smashed his axe into Barnaby’s shield, sending a piercing ringing across the circle of people.

“MORDOK!” Someone suddenly yelled loudly. However, no sooner had the two fighters collected their thoughts, than the Ulven man and Ragnar were tackled to the ground in front of him, with three dark figures rushing toward Barnaby. 

Barnaby stood in the cascading rain, the circle of people had broken and at his feet lay three broken and lifeless Mordok, all with skulls caved deep. Adjusting his vision before him, he saw the Ulven from the tavern, along with the man he had fought, laying in the mud, with a Mordok on each. Barnaby took no thought and barreled forward, launching himself through the air and collided with the two Mordok. Killing both quickly, he straightened up and turned toward the two Ulven. The man from the tavern had gotten to his feet, wiping clumps of dirt and sweat out of his eyes, while the other had barely made his way to his knees. Moving over, Barnaby outstretched his arm, looking into the bright yellow eyes of the Ulven who had now met his gaze. After a brief moment, the man took his arm and pulled himself to his feet, giving a heavy grunt as he did.

“Maybe next time, you..” Barnaby started, but before he could reply, the Ulven turned and hurled an axe past his head, into the skull of an approaching Mordok. “Well… I guess that makes us even?”

As the night slowly died down, the evening settled with just a few remaining people in the tavern. Ragnar and Barnaby were among, with them the Ulven men that had initiated the duel seated nearby and drinking.

“So… what does this mean? Are we still enemies?” Barnaby asked Ragnar. The Ulven man who had initially accosted Barnaby slowly walked over to where the two sat and dropped himself on the bench next to Ragnar. 

“You fought with honor and saved not only my life but Ragnar’s as well.” The man stated, grasping the jug of ale and pouring them all a fresh drink. “In doing so, you have satisfied your part in the duel.”

“But Ragnar saved my life, as well”

“Yes, and because he did, he has asserted his honor, as well. You are both deemed worthy in the eyes of the Great Wolf.”

“Well… great!” Barnaby said, lifting his mug into the air, the other Ulven in the tavern matched his actions, and all drank.

Barnaby hopped on the back of the wagon, and waved goodbye to his Ulven companions as the mules jerked the caravan down the dirt road. He had been told about Clan Shattered Spear and how they had helped Ragnar’s people. And as Barnaby had been told, perhaps they might help him find his purpose. So, with a promise to meet up with Ragnar once more, Barnaby left Southward.

————————————————

He had lived in Shattered Spear for nearly 11 months by this point, and having nothing but gratefulness to the Ironmound family that took him in and allowed him to stay, the oldest son Kinnith asked where Barnaby might go next.

“South again, I imagine. Maybe I’ll make a circle around the Great Forest and work my way towards Goldenfield”.

“I think that thing is beyond fixing,” Kinnit replied, gesturing to Barnaby’s hammer. “Remember, our family is among the best blacksmiths in Ironmound. I’m sure my grandfather Milik would be willing to help”. 

Waving goodbye and getting many, many hugs from his Ulven family and neighbors, he began his trek into the heart of Clan Ironmound. The long dirt road met with him with little to no encounters. Barnaby found the traveling to be quiet and remote. Leaving him alone with his thoughts. He had been within Clan Ironmound territory for a few nights, at this point, and several people had stopped him repeatedly asking him about his armor and his travels.  It wasn’t until someone literally pulled the hammer out of his belt ring that he snapped and yelled at the lot. “Get your hands off my stuff!”

“Look. I’m sorry.” Barnaby stated, holding his brow. “I shouldn’t have yelled”. 

“To hell with that, sonny” A voice rang out from the back of the group. “These folk are vermin. I’m surprised they didn’t jess steal yer armor. The name’s Milik, and you must be Barnbaby”.

Buildings became more dense as they traveled, replaced only by the occasional farm building and patch of grain here or there. By the time the sun had set, they approached a two story building near the heart of a larger town. 

“Grandfather is back!” Two little girls came running out into the road, hugging Milik.

“Yeh yeh, I’m back, tell yer mother to get the stew on, we have a guest” He replied, giving them a return hug and a pat on the head.

Moments later, Barnaby is eating the best stew he’s ever had.

“Easy, sweetie, you’ll choke if you eat any faster” The woman laughed, as Barnaby struggled to eat a piece of bread with a mouthful of stew.

“Sorry…” Barnaby apologized, embarrassed, as he finished his 5th and final bowl of dinner.  “That was the best stew I’ve ever had, ma’am. Thank you”.

“Well, don’t let my sister hear you say that. She’ll come right down here and force you to eat her own”. She replied, chuckling and taking the bowls and platters away from the table.

“Oh that’s right, you’re Kinniths…Mom’s… sister. Aunt. You’re Kinnith’s aunt”. 

“That Kinnith is a fine boy,” Milik stated, lighting a pipe. “If he and his mother say you’re good people, then you’re welcome in my home”.

“Thank you. Both of you.” Barnaby stated, bowing his head slightly. “The last year has been the only year I remember, but it has been nothing but amazing.” The two Ulven exchanged glances unsure of what this meant. Barnaby apologized and filled them in his story, beginning with waking in the glade. Milik and his daughter remained quiet. The girls had been ushered to bed long prior, as Barnaby warned that the story of Onsallas might be more than they could handle. 

Milik was finally the one to break the tension, as he tapped the ashen contents of his pipe out in a nearby mug. “That hammer has seen better days.” He said, gesturing with his eyes toward the hammer that Barnaby had left leaning against the door frame. 

“It has. Sadly, I do not remember those days.” Barnaby lamented staring at his hands. “As many times as that hammer has saved my life, it has ended more than I can count.”

“Is that something that bothers yeh?” Milik asked.

“Yes. I mean, no.. Well..” Barnaby stated, looking up almost expecting the question to have been a trap.

“It’s not a bad thing to have blood on your hands, human. Both mine and my wife’s, may she rest with the Great Wolf, had more than their share of blood on them. Both of my daughters have taken lives, my daughter here took the life of the man who killed my son-in-law.” Barnaby could see out of the corner of his eye the woman tense her shoulders and close her eyes. Barnaby sat and listened to Milik’s story with bated breath. He didn’t know what to say. Several minutes of silence passed by as the two sat at the lantern-lit table. 

“I’m… I’m sorry. “Barnaby stated, unsure of what to say.

“Don’t be. It weren’t yer fault. You weren’t there, you couldn’t have stopped it.” Milik stated.

“I know, but your daughter..”

“She did what she had to. If she hadn’t, all four of them would be dead, and a mad man would be out and about running around killin’ other people.” Milik said, stopping his pipe tamping activities to make the point. “You wanna know how you can make it up in this world?”

“Of..of course. I want my life to matter. I want to have purpose.” He stated sitting up straight.

“Then defend the people around you and get your hands dirty. Hands that ain’t covered in blood haven’t protected anyone.” Barnaby absorbed these words. As if struck by lightning, he felt them echo in his being and extend to the very tips of his fingers.

“Hand me yer hammer”

Barnaby jumped to his feet and grabbed the hammer leaning against the door frame, handing it to Milik. 

“This thing won’t last’cha much longer. You wanna make your life matter? I’ll make you a new one. But’cha gotta promise me somethin’.

Barnaby nearly stood up. “Of course, anything!”

“Use it to protect my kind. Obviously use it to save the lives of human an Syndar alike, but promise me if you ever meet an Ulven worth a damn, you’ll give your life for ‘em… and die tryin’”.

————————————————

The day had long since passed morning, as Barnaby, with a belly full of breakfast, stood at the edge of the town in which he had stayed for well over a month.

“You jest stay out of trouble now ya hear?” Milik said as he hoisted Barnaby’s immense shield onto his mule. “And if ya DO get into trouble, make sure you shed some blood along the way”.

“Thanks again, Milik. You’ve taught me a lot these last few weeks, and I’m grateful. Your family in Shattered Spear reflects with honor upon you. You should be proud.”

“I am, boy. I am. They’re good folk, who just chose a terrible place to live. I mean, who chooses sheep over steel?”

————————————————

As he neared the Great Forest, it had become midday. The mountains lay in the far distance, as the miles between took many nights to traverse. Coming to the top of an immense hill he could make out the shape of some large walls surrounding what appeared to be a small town. Descending the hill was quick, and with the aid of his mule, he was able to approach the Eastern side of the settlement. He could make out a few farm hands tending to the crops and livestock, while others seemed to almost stand guard. Edging his way along the outer wall, attempting to be both sneaky, but look inconspicuous, he did notice several farm hands watching his movements and gesturing to the guards that were standing by. From here, he could see the troops training better. They were more farmers. With pitchforks. Pretending to stab invisible foes, and rather poorly, at that. Whoever was training these men might have been a good leader, but they had their work cut out for them, as this militia was nothing more than simple farmers with pointed sticks. One of them, he could have sworn, was swinging around a loaf of bread as a sword. 

“Hello there!” Barnaby heard a voice cry out from his left, near the gate. Jumping at the voice, he turned quickly, placing his hand on his hammer.

“Oh, I don’t think that will do you any good. We’ve had archers trained on you from the moment you came down that hill”. The voice said, now showing itself to be a tall, Syndar man with knobbly ears and a navy blue vest. Coming out of the gate with him were two individuals both with bows drawn, pointed at Barnaby. “Did you really think sneaking around our gate was the best way to get in?”

“I wasn’t sure what this place was..”Barnaby stated. 

“Well, why didn’t you ask? We would glad have invited you in and given you food.” The man said, plucking his instrument a few times and glancing upward at Barnaby. 

“I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried sneaking”.

“That’s all I wanna hear!” The man shouted, ushering the two people beside him to lower their bows. “Now, let’s start again shall we?” The man said, smiling toward Barnaby.  “My name is Aladrin Greywood, a Bard.” 

“I’m Barnaby. Barnaby Bucksley. What is this place?”

“Why, it’s Shieldhaven!” Aladrin replied, smiling widely and swinging his arm around as if showing off a grand display.

“Shieldhaven? I’ve never heard of it.” Barnaby stated looking up and down the stretch of walls. “What territory is this?”

“Well, it used to be Riverhead. Or still is. I’m not sure. But, we’re here to protect it and keep it safe.”

“With farmers?”

“Hey, don’t let them fool you. Those guys will beat you silly. Except for that guy with the bread. I’m… not sure what he’s doing”. 

Before Barnaby could reply, he heard another voice come from behind the gate. 

“Is that who Ragnar think it is?” Seconds later, a large Ulven man with an immense shield and familiar yellow eyes emerged from the open gate.

“By the Great Wolf. Ragnar!” Barnaby exclaimed, rushing past Aladrin who was still talking to himself about stealing Barnaby’s story to make into a song. 

“Barnaby has been getting stronger”, Ragnar stated, giving Barnaby’s forearm a squeeze.

“I had to be in order to carry this hammer,” he replied, gesturing to the weapon at this side. “Oh, my friend, I have much to tell you”. Barnaby smiled deeply at his friend. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that he noticed Aladrin standing uncomfortably close.

“So…how do you two know eachother?” Aladrin asked.

“We met in Onsallas. We almost killed eachother”

“Ragnar will tell Aladrin full story. Barnaby must meet Garduk”. Ragnar added, beckoning inside.

Minutes later, Barnaby is taken before an elderly man who is hunched over a tall pitcher of water, with a hoe and shovel next to him. Garduk looks up and gives an eye roll at “another human” in Riverhead lands, saying as long as Barnaby doesn’t pester him too much, he can stay “or whatever”. Barnaby asks about the history of Clan Riverhead, as he hadn’t heard much other than rumors and what Ragnar had told him back in Onsallas. Ragnar and Garduk share a quiet glance, as Garduk tells Barnaby to sit down and shut up. Over the hour, both Garduk and Ragner would tell Barnaby the story of Riverhead and the dark, horribly history that had befallen their people.After talking for nearly an hour Garduk took a long swig, eyeballing the immense hammer that Barnaby had at his side. “Where did you get that?” He asked, almost in an accusatory manner.

“It was a gift from a friend in Ironmound,” he replied. “It was made for me by Milik, the grandfather of Kinnith in Shattered Spear territory. I lived with their family for almost a year before traveling to Ironmound.” 

“Milik and I go way back. Back to when we were kids” Garduk said finally after Barnaby had finished. “He was always so uppity about ‘protect our traditions’ and how the Ulven people have ‘stick together”.  Barnaby chuckled.

“Yeah he mentioned something about that.” Barnaby replied, giving Garduk a smile.

“Did he now…”

“He said in exchange for his hammer, I must swear my life to defending people, and helping Ulven kind.” Barnaby replied, glancing down at his hammer and resting his hand upon it. “I’m not sure exactly what that means, but I’ll try my best”.

“Barnaby should help retake Riverhead land”. Ragnar stated, matter of factly, after having sat silent for several minutes.

“Well, now ain’t that just a twist of fate…” Garduk chuckled to himself, standing.

“Barnaby should stay with Guardians and help retake Ulven land”. Ragnar repeated, also standing. All around him, Barnaby noticed all of the Ulven beginning to stand. One by one, they got to their feet.

“It seems like destiny has brought you here. You made a promise, young man. It sounds like it’s time to fulfill your purpose.”

Something inside Barnaby lept. His heart, his stomach, he didn’t know what. But the word “purpose” resonated within him like an echoing drum. “What do I need to do?” He asked, staring resolutely at Garduk and Ragnar. 

“I think you gotta talk to that guy”, he heard a voice from behind. Aladrin was standing, again, uncomfortably close. Following his gesture, Barnaby directed his gaze toward the direction Aladrin was pointing, and there, as if carved in stone and marbled after a great on himself, stood a tall man with a massive sword and shield. 

Guardians are weird about this, I’ll leave them to it. “ Garduk said as he and the other Ulven grabbed their tools and went back to work. 

“Who are you?” Barnaby asked, barely able to hold his composure after the emotional moment only seconds earlier. 

“I am Stanley Lorden. Leader of the Guardians of the Wall and protector of these Riverhead lands and Shieldhaven.” The voice bellowed with an unearthly echo, shaking the very core of Barnaby’s being.

“What must I do to fulfill my purpose?” He asked again, this time feeling all the same emotions welling up one more. 

“Swear your loyalty to the Guardians of the Wall, defend these lands and the people within, with your life. Do you swear?”

“I … I do…I swear it!” He almost shouted, unable to control his voice.

“Then kneel…” Barnaby collapsed to the ground, one hand on his hammer and the other on the ground, barely able to hold his pose, his knees shook with anticipation. Stanley drew his massive sword and pointed it at Barnaby, Stanley addressed the man once more.

“Do you swear upon your life and honor to defend those unable to defend themselves and those you call family?”

“I do”.

“Do you swear to uphold the sacred oath of the Guardians and always act with honor in their name?”“I do.” Barnaby could feel his very soul begin to quake.

“And do you promise, above all else, to treat those around you, those you love, as family, swearing to them and your gods, your life.”

“I… I do!” Barnaby shouted at the ground, clenching a handful of dirt. He could feel the tip of the sword press into his shoulder gently, one then the other.

“Then rise, Barnaby. And fulfill your purpose with honor.”

A chorus of shouting erupted around him. Aladrin played joyously on his lute a merry tune as Barnaby looked up and to even more people standing above him. Jumping and dancing amongst themselves, they celebrated yet another member being added to their family, as the Ulvens around them gave weird looks. Barnaby found himself that evening, as the Guardians continued to drink and celebrate their newest member of their family, surrounded by a familiar feeling. These people had defended these lands, constructed an, albeit makeshift, settlement and risked their lives just so the Riverhead people might retake their land. These were the people he had searched for this last year, and he didn’t even realize it. That sense of purpose he had driven himself hundreds of miles over a dozen months just to find, and it lay here in Riverhead territory, under a settlement of mismatched friends and allies. Within this group of strangely allied and yet welcoming family, he found his purpose. The one he had searched for for so long. Tomorrow, he would begin his life anew as a Guardian of the Wall.

A Guardian, with purpose.

 

 

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Rosemary

PLAYED BY: Winter Edwardson 

CHARACTER NAME: Rosemary 

GENDER: Enby

PRONOUN(S): she/they

CLASS: Rogue

AGE: ~70

RACE: Io’Larian

HAIR: dirty blonde

EYES: blue

OCCUPATION: herbalist

KNOWN SKILLS: knowledge of some plant life and how to harvest them

BIRTHPLACE: Faedrun 

APPEARANCE: usually in well maintained layered clothing adorned with various tokens and baubles.

NOTABLE TRAITS: appears serous except for the fangs

RELATIONSHIPS: some members of their old commune still survive but not many and most have settled down rather than continuing to travel

RUMORS: she seems pretty boring

 

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: 

For as long as I can remember we lived on the roads of Faedrun and that was where I felt most at home. We were a small commune but well traveled, at least through the human kingdoms. We were merchants, selling herbs, oils, tinctures, and potions. Sometimes we would connect with other merchants and travel in a larger caravan. We would take the time to trade stories, songs, food, and goods. Other times it was just our commune. The only kingdoms I never got to see were the Richtcrag and the Nara Pentare as there were many stories and rumors, that turned out to be true, of the dead returning as monstrous abominations. But, before the things of nightmare really spilled into my own reality I was able to find my peace in exploration. The rolling farms and fields of the Vandregon at twilight always made me feel like we were drifting on a golden sea of grain. The welcoming sight of the May’Kar oasis always felt comforting, like a friendly face offering to share their home with you. The gorgeous coast of the Aldorian port towns reminding me of the awe inspiring beauty of a true ocean. In stark contrast to these places the few times we came to trade with the small outskirt towns of Tielorrien the felt oppressive and overwhelming, like we were being burdensome merely by existing. But of everywhere else I’ve been, my favorite will always be the cities of the Yabantu Triumvirate. The smells coming from food stalls were always the most mouthwatering, the clothes were always the brightest and most beautiful I had ever seen, even the streets felt alive. I had to be corralled back to the caravan for gawking too long and taking the wrong turn.

Unfortunately, the undead threat continued to grow and grow. We were lucky, for a time, to not be near the front line, but it felt like it was getting closer by the day. Our trade routes shrank significantly, mostly consisting of cities in Aldorian. A short time after my name day, we heard that the kingdoms had all come together under the grand alliance. Some of our caravan split off to go help run supplies to the front lines the rest of us tried to help by keeping the civilians supplied. But finally, the alliance broke when the syndar kingdoms abandoned the lines and fled back behind their own borders. We tried to stay hopeful that we could survive. That hope was tested when the May’Kar turned and joined the penitent, but our hope was still not lost. 

Finally there were rumors of a new land that we could travel to in order to escape the undead. It was called Mardrun. It took us a few years but we were able to secure passage on a ship for the few of us that remained. Many of us found work and homes in a settlement called Daven’s Reach. After some time it was held hostage by some bandits. After this three of the members of the council of New Hope came and it was renamed Daven’s Hold. After several years of a quiet, mundane life I could still feel a quiet ache, much like a homesickness, for a life on the roads. 

 

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The First Born

The First Born are an Io’Larian Syndar Tribe that have been “Awakened” to the truth: it is the Io’Larian Syndar, not the Celestine, that are the purest of their race. It is evident in their features, as their natural fae like characteristics are more pronounced than the Serous or Celestine Syndar. The Celestines and Serous are in fact the aberrations, and the Celestines convinced Syndar society that their aberrations make them superior, when in fact they are the least blessed among all.

The First Born follow a Priestess called the Word Bearer, the woman who first preached the Word. A Io’Larian herself, a chance meeting with a Lorespeaker and their Daughter of Gaia started her on the path. It was only with the revelation that the Syndar had traveled to Mardrun before that she was truly Awakened to the Word. In a dream the Word came to her, that was the Syndar had lost their way from Nature, and so were losing their connection to the Life Stream.

There is one more component to the Word that makes the Io’Larian Syndar unique: there was a third progenitor deity of the Syndar people. Tellus, the Mother Goddess of the Earth. With Solar and Lunara, it was Tellus who birthed the Syndar on Faedrun, and Tellus who also helped birth the subsequent Gods. Tellus was the wife of Solar, and the wife of Lunara. The Trifecta kept balance, and all Syndar born were Io’Larian with great fae characteristics and skin the color of the rainbow.

The Celestine and Serous were therefore the outcast children of the Three Gods; Silver Celestine were Lunes, Gold Celestine called Sols, and Serous were Tellunes. These Syndar were either missing, or overly blessed, by one deity. The First Born took pity on them, and kept them safe in their own little communes while they wandered free of the entire domains of the Sun, Moon, and Earth.

However the Lunes and Sols grew jealous, and convinced the others to revolt against the First Born. The Lunes and Sols had to convince the Tellunes, most populous of the aberrations due to being the Mother Goddess’s children, otherwise the endeavor would fail. Deceived by the Sols and Lunes lies of equality, the Tellunes fought against the First Born.

Aghast and appalled at their behavior, the First Born defended themselves only as necessary. With the entire world as their domains, however, they easily migrated elsewhere. This let the Sols and the Lunes free to set up a society where they were on top. To cement this dynamic, they erased the Mother Goddess Tellus from history, giving her sons and daughters to only Lunara. Finally, they decreed a name change from the Sols, Lunes, and Tellunes to the Celestine (Heavenly) and Serous. This is how they erased the Serous’ own history from them.

With the Syndar unshackled from the chains of old Syndar society, Tellus reached out to the Word Bearer to tell her the True History of the Syndar, and First Born. When she awakened, she knew she had to spread the Word. Tellus granted her the faith and charisma to preach, as well as the ability to do great divine feats she previously could not.

As such, First Born are not a hereditary Tribe, but one of converts, mainly from Io’Larians (referred to as First Born), but also a few Serous (Tellunes). The Tribe is small, but their faith has led to the growth with new converts. All the members are not proselytizers, but will defend their faith to those who look at it with scorn. Finally, they hold disdain for any Celestine (Sol or Lune).

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The Path of Divinity

The Next Step

May 272

This story yields the request from whom offers a boon to Artemis and his family line.

After the establishment of an Organization, Artemis felt that it was time to adjust his focus.  He wanted to work on his blacksmithing, however, he also wanted to rely on his teammates even more.  He had instructed his newest companion, Orla, to gather a deeper understanding in the ways of different materials and resources and how they can be used.  That way, under his instruction, they can create these so-called magic items.  It was time Artemis focused inward.  He had studied a particular magical enchantment that only he and similar skilled individuals can enchant.  He calls it the 3rd Aura.  This enchantment requires the skill of a magic user who has become skilled in the craft but not yet mastery.  Currently, Artemis can only apply a 3rd Arcane aura but what if he could apply ANY 3rd Aura.  He would need to unlock his understanding of the Divine even further.  Unfortunately, there is only one way to do that.  More Worship.

Artemis prides himself on utilizing science and mana to his understanding.  Everything should and can be explained.  However, Divinity?  That cannot be explained so easily.  What we know is that it is based around faith and belief and the gods grant a boon for the acts of service.  One may say, we are the vessel of the gods and act under their will.  With this understanding Artemis needed to get in contact with the god his sister informed him of and the god in which she and her father both follow, Khruki, Lord of Darkness.

Artemis returns to his new home after a long day of work within the Org.  All day brewing and getting things ready for the next batch of wine that shall flow.  He then begins to gather himself a bottle of his newest batch, the Apple Pie a La Mode as well as some fresh meats and cheeses.  He informs his org, “Ok guys, I know you guys will monitor things well.  I will be gone for only a day, and I will be close.  Don’t try to find me as contacting this particular god is a solo affair.”  He then states his goodbyes and sets off.  He gathers up some old documents from his studies and sets off.  With him he has his wine, food, his notebook, and his father’s book.  He finds himself a nice, quiet cave not too far and begins to set up a small camp.

He then drinks his booze and meditates.

 

“Endless darkness, endless night

A world anathema to light

All that’s done can surely break.

Only in dreams can we awaken.”

 

There is nothing heard for now.  Only the echoes of the cave and sound of the bugs and trees.

 

“Sound and fury, heralds, horns

Cry for the one from nothing born.

Now ichor leaks from broken hearts

Now come warrior of the stars!”

 

That’s when things went silent.  Eerily silent.  He awakes in a dream state, one that can only be described as his Mind’s Eye.  In it he sees a nice calm grassy plane and calm trees.  He is alone in this domain.  Looking to the sky, you would see not one but two mana streams.  One, much weaker than the other.  Traveling further, there is a crossroads.  One path leads to what is familiar, crackling Arcane energy.  In the other, calm healing Divine energy.  “In order for me to progress in my form, I must strengthen what is weaker.”  Artemis ponders.  He then begins to walk the path of the Divine.

The first step in this path is a test.  A voice echoes, that of his sister, “ok now, Let’s cover the basics.”  In front of him lies a body, freshly dying, maybe he was attacked.  “Go ahead and bring that one back”.  Artemis heads over to the body.  It is his grandfather.  If only I was adept at this then” He leans down and issues a small prayer.  “By my will and power.  Allow this one to be brought back from the brink.  It is not yet his time” and like that a sudden burst of power flows through Artemis and into his Grandfather.  The man is gasping for air and somewhat stable.  “I have bought you more time.  But unfortunately, this is only a skill test.”   The sight vanishes as quickly as it came.  It leaves only a note.  “Well done!”  The next test then presents itself.  A creature clad in thick shadows slips from a nearby treeline and slides towards Artemis. He cannot make out what it may be, but instinctively, he produces a white ball of energy and hurls it at the figure.  It stumbles back, but keeps coming.  A few more and the shade is down.  Ahead, he can see a visage.  A man?  Artemis investigates further.

As Artemis gets closer to the man, he sees a familiar face.  Himself.   “I am what you already know.  You have studied a great deal of information.  I am here to help you compile it.  Let me see father’s journal.”  The clone of Artemis reaches out his hand.  Artemis does bequeath the journal and sits with, well himself.

Artemis spends multiple hours studying and going through the texts of his father.  “First off, there is a deity we should worship.  We have a certain progression.  The first God we encountered and devoted to is known as Khruki, Lord of Darkness.  He is father’s god.  We must worship a new god.  One that is, like us.  One that…”  He pauses a moment and hears a rustle in the brush.  It’s the shade returned again, shambling closer.  The clone of Artemis then unsheathes his blade coated with divine energy.  “This will work.  For now, you recite the lamentation of Khruki.  It’s on page 42 in father’s journal.”  Artemis flips to the page and reads.

 

“Endless darkness, endless night

A world anathema to light

All that’s made can surely break.

Only in dreams can we awaken

Sound and fury, heralds, horns

Cry for the one from nothing born.

Now ichor leaks from broken hearts

Now come we fight, for the stars!

When you look into the sky

You’ll see the light surrounded by

The dark!

The abyss, lurking

Things beyond our understanding

We who left the doorway open

Into your hearts

Into the stars!

For as long as there is fear

The creeping shadow shall draw near

From the darkness

Comes the nightmare

Born to swallow up the light

The miracle of shadow rising

All that matters now colliding!

Angels cry on wings of blood

Rain down the tears to bring the flood

And as corruption takes our heroes

Everything will fall to zero!

Can you feel the rumble of the coming storm?

Reality lies upon the edge of thorns

The power that is borrowed

Will not guarantee tomorrow

When the universe will drown among the sorrow sworn

Rise and fall

This is my call!

I weep, I scream

I dare not dream

Khruki, our chariot awaits

To blaze a trail across the sky!

Is this our purpose?

Or is nothing all we’re meant for?

You who stand blessed under starlight

Gaze upon me!

Do you fear me?

As we fly to guard your dreams

The shadow swallows our regime

Endless darkness, endless night

A world anathema to light

All that’s made can surely break

Only in dreams can we awaken

Sound and fury, heralds, horns

Cry for the one from nothing born

Now ichor leaks from broken hearts

Now come we fight for the stars!

Cross the endless eons

We have come so far

Seen a life reflected

In the Mana Shards

The pain of the bells

Rings out a melody from Hell

And deep inside the darkness drowns a beating fell beast’s heart”

 

During this chant, the clone of Artemis does battle with the mysterious being.  “Divine Finish!!”  The clone pierces what would be the heart of the shade and eradicates the monstrosity.  The Divine energy encircling the blade dissipates as it burns out the soul of the shadowy form. Artemis turns to his cloned self, “So the next god would be his son Irunaki?  That would make sense, considering the Organization that I just created.  Then I take it the next move after that would be….Gryx?”  “Correct!” The clone nods in acknowledgment.    He then dissipates and Artemis is then returned to the plane of two streams.  The Divine stream grows stronger.  “What would I need to do to appease Gryx?”  He ponders and studies for a moment.  He then sees a name, Rialvis.  Artemis then awakens next to his campfire and finds himself idly toying with a small time piece in his hands. He doesn’t remember bringing it along. “Oh, a small trinket, it does not function though”.  Perhaps he’d grabbed it absent mindedly, maybe a friend slipped it into his pouch. Either way it’s a question for another time. He begins to get up and heads back to the settlement.

On his way down, he runs into Maretheris, trying her best to open a jar of sauce.  She struggles as her wrists still have not healed yet.  “Here let me help with that.”  A bit startled, Maretheris yelps and hurts her hand a bit more.  “Ha-ha I didn’t mean to scare you.”  Artemis jests.  “I just got done early, sorry”.  Artemis, instinctively, holds Maretheris’s hands.  Divine energy flows through him and almost instantly, her wrists stop hurting.  “Are you…ok?”  Maretheris inspects her wrists a bit more.  “I’m….im more than ok.”  She begins to move her hands in a way she couldn’t before.  “Did you?”

Artemis then tries to open the jar.  “Ow ow ow.  What the?  Why do my wrists….?”  “We call that karma you silly goose, ha-ha” Maretheris jests.  “Looks like you’re the disabled one now!”  “For someone knowledgeable in the Divine, you sure don’t know what spells that are cast.  That one is called Sacrifice; you took my injury.”

After some time, Artemis then goes to his bedchambers to read up on what his father has on Rialvis.  It reads; Talonflame has been hunting Rialvis for quite some time.  Ever since his first encounter in the Serai Outpost, year 265.  He was but an extreme novice in the ways of magic and was impressed by his power.  A Syndar who can wield both magics? Unheard of.  His patron Vazra also had dealings with him, of a sort.  “Vazra, that’s whose journal I read to unlock my understanding of Witch magic.”  The journal later states the excerpts of a different journal.  One that could be none other than Rialvis himself, at least paraphrased.

He ponders, “It would seem, that father wanted to learn from this, Riavlis, but things took a different turn.  Also, the cost was detrimental, causing Manetho great harm.  What’s interesting though, is that Rialvis acted as a god.  Though so did my father.  I guess there can only be room for one egotistical Syndar.”  He chuckles.    “It would be beneficial to grant others power, I suppose that’s the canonical next step of Enchanting.  This, Rialvis, does have quite the control over the Mordok.  Based on this info, my next step is to correct the uncorrected.  Rid the land of Riavlis” and Artemis then turns out his light and goes to sleep, with his next mission at hand.

 

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Ragnar Riverhead

PLAYED BY: Matthew “Platt” Johnson
CHARACTER NAME: Ragnar Riverhead
        Full name: Ragnar Årud of Clan Riverhead
GENDER: Male (He/Him)
CLASS: Warrior
AGE: Born in the Spring of 236.
RACE: Ulven
HAIR: Blonde/Light Colored
EYES: Yellow
OCCUPATION:  Currently Aladrin’s babysitter, unfortunately
KNOWN SKILLS: Craftsman, Blacksmith, Shield Warrior
BIRTHPLACE: Riverhead Territory
APPEARANCE: If a fight is imminent he will have three painted streaks on his face. 
NOTABLE TRAITS: An Ulven warrior wielding an ax and tower shield, he is loyal to his Pack (currently the Guardians). When meeting strangers Ragnar will be stoic until he gets to know you better.
RELATIONSHIPS: Mated to Eldi of Clan Shattered Spear.  Currently traveling with the Guardians of the Wall.
RUMORS: Ragnar does not trust strangers much anymore. However, if you want to get on his good side, bring him some food as Ragnar enjoys a delicious feast among friends.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: 

Ragnar’s story begins at his birthplace in Clan Riverhead territory.  Born to Randi and Aina Årud of Clan Riverhead in the Spring of 236, he was the second-born of three siblings.  His Father was a great traverser of the nearby rivers while his Mother fished and tended the fields.  Ragnar’s older brother was a fierce warrior and protector of his siblings while their younger sister was always peaceful and imaginative.  Some say that she would’ve made an excellent Daughter of Gaia.  And Ragnar… was curious.  He was not much of a warrior compared to his brother, but was a polite pup who was more interested in crafting rather than fighting.  Growing up, Ragnar was always awkward around others but would not hesitate to at least go up and greet a stranger.

Once as a young pup, Ragnar had decided to venture out with his Father on one of his trips to a nearby village.  But his Father had not known that his son was coming with him and so Ragnar was beginning to fall farther and farther behind him when he heard noises coming from where his Father was.  He raced to catch up and saw several creatures surrounding the older Ulven.  At first they looked like shadows, but as he got closer he noticed that their skin was of blues, greens and purples in color.  Their faces were twisted and vicious-looking.  These terrifying fiends seemed to resemble the ones from the stories that his Mother had told him growing up.

In thinking about these nightmares, Ragnar couldn’t help himself and let out a shriek.  The Mordok heard this and soon their attention was turned towards the young pup.  His father also noticed the sound and a look of panic washed over his face when he realized it was Ragnar.  The last thing the young pup remembered before blacking out was his father racing to get ahead of the dark creatures. When he came to, he was being carried by his father, who was relieved to see that his son was not injured. After that incident, his parents had decided that it was time to take Ragnar’s training more seriously if he was going to survive.

His Mother and Father were wise and taught Ragnar strategy, while Ragnar’s brother was a brute in strength and taught him to use the axe and sword. Ragnar’s brother would constantly attempt to spar with him when they weren’t assisting their parents.  And though Ragnar did not have the brute strength of his brother, he did have the endurance and ability to think of a way to turn the tables on him.  At one point he discovered that his brother’s weakness was his back and Ragnar would use this to take control… until his brother got upset and went all out.  Several times this ended with broken furniture and angry parents.

As he grew older, he continued being friendly towards strangers, but he found those strangers to be less welcoming than when he was a pup. One day though, Ragnar met another Ulven that was his age.  He called himself Leif and proclaimed himself to be the greatest adventurer in all the lands.  The two became inseparable in both their adventures and the troubles they created for their parents. Ragnar looked up to Leif like a brother and Leif treated him the same.  Together, the two pups would ascend trees, traverse waterways, and explore the nearby forests.  Leif taught Ragnar how to stay safe outside their village and Ragnar would be there to support his friend through every new adventure.

When he was not adventuring with Leif, Ragnar would be training with his family in order to learn how to fight better. Most of the time, Ragnar would be defeated easily whether it be by his Brother’s overwhelming strength, or the cleverness of his parents.  But Ulven are not known to give up and so they continued training.  Several seasons later, a shift happened. During this particular training, Leif had arrived early and noticed the friendly duel occurring between Ragnar and his family.  He saw Ragnar was not doing well and was about to be outmatched again.  So Leif quickly took up his training ax and joined his friend.  

The three older Ulven were definitely skilled in this fight and while Ragnar was relieved to have the team-up with his friend, if something did not change soon they would still be defeated. Thinking on this, Ragnar quickly grabbed a nearby shield and took on a more defensive role.  His brother continued the relentless barrage of attacks, but Ragnar was able to focus his attention purely on defense while Leif used his speed to stay on offense against Ragnar’s parents.  While it was not a perfect strategy yet, it allowed the pair to endure.  During the second bout, Ragnar and Leif became more synchronized and were able to claim a victory over the older Ulven.  And so it was that Leif would take up the ax and bow and Ragnar would be his shield and sword.  That night, the Ulven group celebrated with much laughter and drink.

When he was in his teen years, Ragnar went with his father downstream to a village that he had never been to.  It was there that Ragnar saw a female Ulven about his age.  He couldn’t help but think she was quite attractive.  She was easy to talk to and had a great smile that melted Ragnar’s heart. He would do anything to see that smile, even if the jokes were dumb.  His brother attempted to teach him the ways of wooing this female but for some reason, Ragnar would do something or act in an unusually, oftentimes awkward way.  Everytime he wanted to kiss her, even on a romantic night gazing up at the stars, Ragnar would lose all the courage he had mustered.  It wasn’t like Ragnar didn’t want to be with her and do all the usual things that a male and female Ulven do, but it never felt like the right time with her.  He was never sure if she ever realized this too.  But it did not matter much because what they did enjoy was being able to spend time together.

Once, the female Ulven introduced Ragnar to her cousins.  The young Ulven males were about the same age as Ragnar and the group got along well with each other.  They played sporting games and told stories of great heroes long into the night.  Well after the female Ulven and most of her cousins had gone off to sleep, it was just Ragnar and her oldest cousin left.  He was probably one season older than Ragnar, but he told Ragnar the stories of his many adventures.  Ragnar couldn’t help but be enthralled by each tale.  And as the fire began to die down, something happened between the two that would change the way Ragnar looked at love and relationships forever.

Not long after, the young female Ulven fell sick and could not walk without passing out.  Ragnar tried to make her as comfortable as possible.  He sought aid from strangers to find a medicine that would cure her.  Winter passed and she had only gotten worse until one day she was no more and had left to begin The Journey.  May his ears ring with her name. Nobody quite knows what caused her sickness, but Ragnar was certain of one thing; what he felt was guilt.  Guilt for not loving her the way she deserved. Because of this, Ragnar was never sure if he would ever find a mate, or want to, and decided instead to focus on his adventures with Leif.

Several seasons passed and Ragnar and Leif had grown into fine adult Ulven Warriors/Adventurers.  They used their shield and bow combo to keep their village safe from the constant threat that was Mordok.  That season however, news spread of strangers from a faraway place that had made their way into Mardrun.  Ragnar and Leif left to investigate the interlopers for themselves to see what kind of threat they posed. 

There were so many of them that came off of their great ships. They were clad in weird clothing that was either bright in color or decorated with odd designs.  But what really stood out to him though, were the pointed ears on some of their heads.  Ragnar thought they were most bewildering and wondered what kind of people they were.  On their faces, Ragnar noticed a mix of reactions from hope to dread.

The two Ulven approached the interlopers carefully.  After getting the chance to meet them and hear their story, Ragnar realized that he never resented them like the way some of the other Ulven clans did, but took pity on them for losing their homes.  For he could never imagine what that pain must feel like.  Out of respect for other Ulven though, Ragnar would do his best not to associate with the interlopers when he was around others.

The season passed, and rumors continued to spread about an upcoming war.  Due to the problems created by the new interlopers, many Ulven were divided on their opinions of them.  Ragnar’s and Leif’s opinions about them however did not change.   But they knew that they could not sit idly by and let the situation get worse or even spill out into their home.  So they decided to go and help settle the issue peacefully. The pair of Ulven joined others from nearby villages and attempted for many days to convince others to resort to peace, but their efforts fell on deaf ears.

One night as they were talking to others at a local gathering, an unknown group of individuals let loose a flurry of arrows.  Fortunately, Ragnar had his shield, but Leif was not so fortunate.  Ragnar watched in horror as his friend was struck with several arrows and he fell lifeless to the ground.  At first Ragnar was overcome with rage and wanted nothing more than to seek vengeance against the cowards who attacked from the shadows, but before he could act, they had already snuck back into the shadows.  He quickly gave chase into the woods along with several others.  But the darkness hid the cowards well and after a while his search was in vain and returned.  Ragnar was overcome with grief for the second time in his life for he was, again, not able to satisfy the needs of those he cared about.  His one duty was to protect his brother Leif, and he had failed him.  That night, Ragnar lit the fire and told of the many adventures he shared with Leif in hopes that His ears would ring with his name. It was after the loss of his closest friend that Ragnar learned not to be as trusting of strangers.

Shortly after the war had ended, more threats appeared.  Most were territorial issues.  But one threat was more terrifying.  Many Ulven from nearby packs began coming down with a sickness and it appeared as if no medicine had any effect.  His Father was one such victim. The people were calling it the Creeping Corruption.  It was not long after that his Father along with many others passed on to begin The Journey. May his ears ring with their names.

Not long after, a new danger emerged.  The Mordok came in after the lands had begun to grow back from the winter.  These attacks were not new to the people, but for some reason they did not end as quickly as other skirmishes had.  And after several days a full force of Mordok came in massive numbers.  It is not clear how so many managed to invade the Ulven forests and lands, but either way they pushed their way into Ragnar’s homeland and slaughtered many Ulven.

Due to the numerous recent tragedies, there was not much that the village could do to protect their lands from this evil.  Ragnar banded together with whoever was left to fight and though they fought hard, nearly all had lost their lives.  Among those lost were his Brother and Mother.  The fight appeared to drag on with no end in sight. The strength of these enemies was overwhelming and after enduring so much, Ragnar’s shield had finally given way.  Fortunately, an arrow found the chest of the Mordock who had broken the shield.  But all of the memories he made with Leif and that shield were now too much for him and he could not focus on the battle.  Ragnar’s strength was quickly leaving his body as his mind slowly began breaking more, like the pieces of his shield, at the loss of so many of his friends and family.

Suddenly, Ragnar heard something.  It was very faint, but got louder.  He could make out a voice calling out his name.  He opened his eyes and began looking for the source.  It was his sister.  She was still alive and Ragnar’s body began moving before he realized it, grabbing a nearby ax along the way.  He gathered all the strength he had left and swung wildly at the Mordok heading towards his sister.  Their bodies littered the ground.  His sister had saved him from giving into his grief completely and now it was his turn to protect his sister. He grabbed her hand and together with a handful of others fled the land they called their home.  Just before it was out of sight, Ragnar turned to look back at his village. Fires illuminated the destruction and death around the village.  At this, Ragnar swore to the Great Wolf and Mother Gaia that he would return to reclaim those lands again or die trying.

The handful of survivors from Riverhead found a safe haven in a town in Shattered Spear territory.  Ragnar tried to rally the local warriors for help to reclaim his home, but many only turned him away because the horde of Mordock was just too great at the moment.  Unable to gather support he felt defeated and turned back to his bed.  Ragnar was not his normal self anymore.  He was overcome with grief at failing over and over to keep his loved ones safe.  Ragnar was broken. He refused to go outside or even meet others from the town.  Several Ulven, including his sister, attempted to get the broken Ulven back to his former self, but none succeeded.

It was several days later when something snagged Ragnar’s attention. It was such an unusual smell that it made him curious to seek it out.  He didn’t have to go far as it led Ragnar to the home next to theirs.  When he went in, he saw a most unique site.  There was this dark-haired Ulven about Ragnar’s age, cooking something like a stew over a fire.  But as he cooked, the strange Ulven danced like none other he had seen before.  Ragnar couldn’t help but be completely enthralled with the way he swayed and twirled.  His movements were dynamic yet graceful.  It was as if the Ulven was dancing with fire.  After a few minutes the peculiar Ulven from Shattered Spear realized he was being watched.   All he did was give Ragnar a smile, a wink, and he continued to dance and cook.  The meal was finished and the Ulven from Shattered Spear introduced himself as Eldi and that he was glad to see he had finally pierced Ragnar’s defense.

That season Eldi had shown Ragnar the beauty of the Shattered Spear lands and they shared many stories of their youth with each other.  Ragnar learned that Eldi was not originally from Shattered Spear but from somewhere farther away.  He shared the reason he had left his home was in search of a family who would give him a better life.  More seasons passed and the two Ulven grew closer together.  So much so, that familiar feelings began to spark for Eldi the way they had with female Ulven from Ragnar’s youth.  But these were different.  He couldn’t explain it but it felt warm, and made him smile.  It was not long then that the two were mated for life.

Another season passed when news came of Ragnar’s homeland in Riverhead territory. He was astounded to hear that a group of people calling themselves the Fence Protectors were attempting to reclaim those lands and make them safe again.  He was also a bit confused as to why they would call themselves that when a fence doesn’t really need protecting.  Either way though, if they had wanted to make his homelands safe, they would need help from someone who knows those lands and the Ulven who may have survived.  That night Ragnar had a long discussion with his mate and his sister.  In the end, they both understood his feelings and gave their blessings for him to go.

He packed his stuff and was ready to leave during the next sunrise.  The three were emotional because they did not know what awaited Ragnar. But they looked forward to the day when Ragnar would send word that his lands were safe again and for them to come and join him. And so he left with a new shield and eyes set in the direction of his home.  Along the way he met several strangers, one of whom was selling some fine-smelling meat.  Ragnar had never been one much for pork, but he was astounded by the flavors it contained.

He ventured closer and closer to his homeland and even encountered an unfortunate group of bandits who thought they stood a chance against him.  When Ragnar had arrived at the farm of an old Riverhead Ulven, he was surprised to see just who these Fence Protectors were.  There was no way these guys stood a chance at defending anything.  And so Ragnar challenged them to a friendly fight to see just how much skill they had.  Their magic-user stepped up to the challenge, but Ragnar was not interested in taking on someone who would fight with spells.  It was a pointy-eared guy with a bow, double-swords, and lute who decided to take Ragnar on.  The duel began and it was during the fight that Ragnar got distracted by this… unique individual.  His bow skills and demeanor reminded him so much of Leif.

The duel was over, and as to who won, it didn’t matter.  All that Ragnar knew at that moment was that there was a chance that he could reclaim his homelands and bring his family home.  That night, they feasted on the bow-users’ pork, but in Ragnar’s opinion it was not as good as the one he got from that traveler.  They shared many stories and drank long into the night. In the morning, Ragnar began training with the group that was actually called, the Guardians of the Wall.  He quickly learned how to use their tower shield and even worked with their blacksmith to create one of his own.  This was the shield that Ragnar would use to defend his new home and friends until the day comes when the Great Wolf’s ears rang with his name.

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Iduun Nightriver

CHARACTER NAME: Idunn Nightriver

GENDER: female

PRONOUN(S): she/they

CLASS: Rogue

AGE: 15

RACE: Ulven

HAIR: wavy curls with fades tips, medium length black undercut

EYES: bluish gray

OCCUPATION: herbalist/ plant merchant

BIRTHPLACE: Born outside of The City of Newhope in Nightriver Territory

APPEARANCE: around 5’3,  square-ish shaped wire glasses, curly faded black-to-blonde hair, blue eyes, sensible clothing that befits an herbalist who often travels through the woods and collects flowers, mushrooms, and any other intriguing things she finds.

NOTABLE TRAITS: nope

RELATIONSHIPS: good friends with Amiya Stormjarl

 

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

Born around the city of new hope, I was raised around a non-political family. I started my travels with a local lore speaker. Soon we decided to travel separately, wanting to learn more about Mardrun by seeing new places. On the way I picked up herbology while traveling from town to town. I had started selling reagents, not making it a long lasting job. Taking a liking to herbology I decided to continue exploring the different plants. I met Amiya Stormjarl overseas and we became good friends in the short time that we were in the outlands together. Now I travel with her and her group so I have a familiar face wherever I go.

“Journal,

I had always been fond of the idea of traveling and learning more about the rest of Mardrun. Though, I never really had the chance or preparations to actually do it. But today I had decided to travel to the southern coasts with a friend in my pack, Sjoulfur. I found the new area exciting, interesting, and overall, breathtaking. On the edge of New Vandregon, I stayed in a cabin not far from the water’s edge. I chose to stay there for an extra couple days, then I guess you could say I took the long way home (basically travel Mardrun to learn as much as I could about, well, everything). The first stop I took was at Brattsholt which I didn’t have much luck with at the end of that whole thing. I didn’t lose much though, mainly because I didn’t bring much to start the day”

On one of my excursions to a small village called Brattsholt I had a very profitable selling day. All was going well until a group of raiders threatened the town. I lost all of my profit and stock to those bandits. I am once again on a path to find reagents and continue my catalog of plants.

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The Saints of Vandregon

Worship of the Saints of Vandregon is an ancient well practiced religion that started many generations ago, well before the first contact war between the Syndar and Human Kingdoms. In this faith there are numerous Saints who have served the people of Vandregon in some shape or form that most often ended in Self-Sacrifice for the greater good of its people. As for the region that may have started the practice it is disputed by even the most learned of scholars, but it is either the Royal Capital or in the area around the holy sight known as Mount Bodwin, where the center of the religion is located and largest mountain in the region.

As stated previously, with the veneration of Saints as the cornerstone of this religion there is no solid portfolio or area where the religion focuses on other than the improvement of Vandregonian Society. Due to this there are a multitude of Saints to cover many aspects of life that those who follow the religion can pray to, whether it is a Saint of Sailors or the ever popular Sentinel Saint, Saint Arcadia, whom many warriors and knights of Vandregon. Beyond this there are a vast array of regional Saints that may have only seen worship in small areas of the Vandregonian Kingdom

Below are listed the popular Saints that survived the Fall and exodus from Faedrun:

Saint Arcadia, The Sentinel: This is one of the most recent Saints added to the religion during the battles with the Undead. Saint Arcadia, is often prayed to by those looking for protection, martial might, or the chivalrous path. Saint Arcadia came into divine recognition after sacrificing herself to defend a pass where undead and penitent from advancing in Southern Vandregon. It was said she fell twenty warriors, ten members of an undead cult, and four Undead before she gave in to her wounds. Before she fell, he struck a support beam that held the area open and caved in the pass, killing all foes and herself in the process to protect a town filled with wounded soldiers, commoners, and supply lines. She is often depicted as a knight in full plate armor, holding both a longsword and shield.

Saint Borim, The Hound: This saint is known more by those that explore the wilds for game, quarry, or foe. Saint Borim is a slightly older Saint that has survived the years due to being relatable to the common folk, military, and the nobility in a multitude of ways. Those that pray to Saint Borim generally are looking for skill in the hunt, endurance when facing the wilds, and true loyalty. Saint Borim came into divine recognition after a dreadfully long and cold winter in Northern Vandregon. In the region there were three villages and a town that were suffering from starvation, bandits, and lack of wood to keep the fires strong. Borim came to each town and worked endlessly to not only restock their pantries with fish, game, and edible bark, but also worked to form militias to fight off the bandits that plagued them. By the last village the largest blizzard ever known hit the area while out on a hunt. After this blizzard hit, the townsfolk went out to see what happened to Borim only to find his loyal hound half frozen, dragging a sled with massive elk and dead Borim on it. While the town was feld and the hound attempted to be saved, it refused to eat and stayed near the Grave of Borim till its last days. Many depict Saint Borim to be a strong muscular hunter with a strong thick bow and Gvalt, his loyal hound, at his feet.

Saint Thalia, The Maid: This Saint is known by the more common and rural folk as one that you can always turn to if in need. Saint Thalia is the second oldest known Saint of Vandregon, believed to have originated near in the region known as The Rolling Mounds. Those that pray to her often are asking for aid in matters of love, health, farming, and hearth. Saint Thalia came into power during a period of drought and famine that struck the area. The religious text states that during that time of hardship Saint Thalia came into the region and began to help small farms with trying to keep whatever crops that were growable. In her actions she was able to improve irrigation, soil quality, and help keep cattle alive by finding alternate methods of feed and where to drink. Through her actions the region was able to recover and then thrive after the drought passed. She stayed afterwards and continued to educate further with infrastructure and herbal medicine. After some time, Saint Thalia eventually passed due to old age after spending decades helping the Rolling Hills region of Vandregon. Many depict Saint Thalia as a younger woman in basic garb and apron with a basket of herbs, grain, and crown of flowers upon her head.

Saint Halver, The Mystic: This Saint is known by all citizens and worshipers of the faith. However they are not often prayed to outside of those who seek knowledge, magic, protection of the unknown, and death. Saint Halver is the oldest known Saint of Vandregon with tales going back unknown generations.
Religious texts that have survived show that Saint Halver came into power towards the beginning of the practice of worshiping the Saints of those who worked to improve and serve Vandregon. As for what caused this mysterious saint to rise to power, the stories are missing pieces of information but from what scholars could put together it was something along the following.
Saint Halver was a powerful mage who lived on the now known Mount Bodwin, often just coming down to collect new books or visit other intellectuals. Back when the Kingdom was just starting, there was a grand drought that was plaguing the lands of Vandregon. During this period, the current ruling king, King Vesper Vandregonia 3rd of his name, was despirate to save the people so he went on a quest to Mount Bodwin and climbed it without aid to the cottage that Halver was said to have lived in. Having fought off eagles, large spiders, nearly falling to his death on leg of the climb, King Vesper reached Halver’s threshold. Before he could even knock, the king’s weariness took over and sleep fell upon him like a crushing ocean wave. King Vesper woke up to see the heavily hooded figure sitting in the corner smoking on a pipe while reading a book by the fire. His highness got up and found there was a pitcher of water and a lowly clay cup for him to drink out of.
“I am a king, I will not drink from something so lowly.” Said Vesper, his voice filled with pride.
“Then you may stay thirsty… For a King that will not even touch his lips to the very clay he is to rule is a foolish King. For if such a King was to ever darken my stoop, I would have no advice to offer one who cannot accept what is placed right before him and as a gift. Such a prideful King wouldn’t heed my warnings and council, and rather do what they will. So, if the clay you rule is too far beneath you, King of Fools and Droughts, then stay thirsty and leave.” Said Halver, showing no emotion to the insult of hospitality
King Vesper then thought long and hard, for no one in all of Vandregon had ever spoken to him as such. He bit his tongue so no retort would leave, drank from the water, and found it to be the most refreshing drink to have ever passed over his lips.
King Vesper and Helvar then talked long into the night. The exact conversations are sparse in recording, but they spoke deeply of the drought.
“You will go deep into the Rolling Hills, bring workers of strong back and stronger constitution, for you will bring water to the rivers to the southern parts of your kingdom. You will find a lake and an ancient dam that was placed by your ancestors. Bring it to rubble and ruin, and let the lake flow like nature intended and the southern part of your kingdom will be spared. The northern kingdom will require strong laborers and strong horses; they will dig a series of trenches that will connect to the inland sea at the foot of the Celestial Mountains, for the water is perfect for soil and growing crops. Do this, and your lands will be spared from this drought and other droughts to come.” Said Halver.
King Vesper did just this and his people were saved from a drought that brought the Kingdom of Vandregon to its knees. It is then that King Vesper requested that Halver join him in court, but was refused four times. The fifth time, Halver came to agree and resided in the capital for all but the last three years of his life, where they returned to his home. Which was rebuilt by King Vesper’s son, King Yorik Vandregonia, into what would eventually become the Vault of Wisdom within the depths of the Citadel of Mount Bodwin. There are a few other stories, but those will be found or told another day.

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April 272 – News and Rumors

Robins sing their songs and flowers begin to poke up from the ground. The planting season is well underway and News and Rumors fall across the landscape like a chilled spring rain.

Reports continue to come from Clan Shattered Spear regarding the strange happenings at their remote village. The Clan has diverted some of their people who were aiding in the resettlement of Riverhead Lands and have established a formal forward camp to try to reach out to the villagers and settle the bizarre matter peacefully. This choice will delay the resettlement efforts, but Riverhead understands the need to attend to these bizarre circumstances. Luckily the efforts put forward in March to cleanse the area of ambient corruption eased the logistics of setting up the forward camp and allowed Shattered Spear to more quickly turn their attention toward the village. Unfortunately, at this time it seems that Shattered Spear has not yet been able to reach the villagers in any meaningful way. Some reports come back that the villagers have begun to barricade all the entrances in an attempt to wait out the Shattered Spear Forces. Sometime through the middle of the month a hawk arrived in Shattered Spear Village from the remote villagers. It requested aid to come and help defend their village against a Mordok siege and boasted the resolve of the villagers and sang their own praises of the great number of Mordok that they have defeated and driven back.

Rumors begin to swirl through the streets of Newhope following last month’s proclamation of a new Councilor. Though no official word has been given yet, it is not long before people are able to piece together rumors and it’s fairly clear that the new council member will be a Serous Syndar named Aailmyr. Over the last few years Aailmyr has become an increasingly noteworthy lower noble in the Syndar community around the City of Newhope. He is well regarded by the Syndar populace and has proven himself time and time again to be a strong advocate for the needs of the people of all races living in his district as well as the Syndar people as a whole. With City-State research being unloaded from the council and placed on Ravens University, the open seat on the council will have the ability to focus far more on the growth of culture and the continued success of the city itself. An official proclamation is expected soon.

Murmurs swirl around the docks of Aylin’s Reach. Word has come down from on high that Aylin is ready to move forward with settling and setting up a harbor on one of the larger uninhabited islands to the North East of Clan Whiteoak. This land will drastically increase the overall size of Aylin’s Reach and bolster their access to raw resources as well as create an area that could serve as a hub and harbor for ships traveling in the North East Sea of Mardrun and could act as a supply-stop for excursions into the swamp from it’s eastern shores. Prospective settlers vibrate with excitement over this upcoming new venture.

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Aesa Nightriver

PLAYED BY: Jessica Beardsley
CHARACTER NAME: Aesa (A – s – uh) Nightriver
GENDER: Female
PRONOUN(S): She/her
CLASS: Warrior
AGE: 25
RACE: Ulven
HAIR: Black
EYES: Blue
OCCUPATION: None
KNOWN SKILLS: Physical labor, Agriculture.
BIRTHPLACE: Nightriver Territory
NOTABLE TRAITS: Softspoken and a bit shy
RELATIONSHIPS: None
BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:
Aesa grew up in a small farming village that was close to a day’s walk from the Settlement of New Hope. From a young age Aesa would fantasize about adventures and living a life more exciting that the one she was currently living. She would constantly pretend to fight imaginary enemies In between
chores. Often her parents would often scold her for getting distracted.
Aesa would continue living the Farmer life and would help deliver supplies and goods to New Hope. Every time they would go, she would become enamored with the lifestyle and commodities of the colonists. This only served to feed her desire to venture out and explore the rest of the world. Her family were not as thrilled with the idea. They didn’t want to see their daughter get hurt or end up abandoning their customs.
During the time of the Civil war Aesa longed to help and fight but her parents would talk her out of it. They would remind her that she was doing her part by supplying food to the ones fighting and to those seeking asylum in the territory. No matter how hard Aesa tried to be happy and content with
farming she couldn’t shake the need for adventure.
Eventually the Discontent became too much, and Aesa started saving up to acquire the equipment to start her journey. Her family tried desperately to stop her but her mind was set. Finally, the day came, and she packed up her stuff and set out for New Hope. Even though she didn’t have any
real understanding of the world outside of her community, Aesa was determined to see this through. Once at New Hope She quickly started buying gear and armor. She was convinced by a blacksmith to invest in metal armor because it can take more punishment than leather. She chose to outfit herself with a combination of metal and leather to get the best of mobility and protection. Once she had the gear, she was happy with, Aesa started working small mercenary jobs. This satisfied her for a while
but the drive for bigger things started to build again. She started listening to the local gossip and rumors.
She eventually started to move from location to location, following what ever rumors sounded the most like the adventure she was always seeking.
Aesa continues to do mercenary work and follow her love of adventure.