Session 1 | D&D4E: Rise of the Runelords | Obsidian Portal [https://db4sgowjqfwig.cloudfront.net/campaigns/60895/assets/595978/Goblin_Attack.jpg?1464798441]

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Orcs as he had become acquainted with, like most races of the world, had evolved from a brutal past, one of constant bloodshed, and warring clans, until something had changed within them. The years of war, had turned to years of peace, and they had become a prosperous realm that abhorred violence. It's rules, law, and governing body, making it a land where all races could live in harmony.

To think that not so long ago this land was a hotbed of banditry with folk trying to survive each day, and armies that ravaged the countryside was hard to believe. Let alone that it was now protected by mercenaries.

Streets strangely empty as he passed between round domed homes, he began to wonder where everyone had gotten to, when he was met with an even stranger sight. A man taller than most humans he had ever seen, spattered head to toe in blood, clutched a wet sack in hand, and stared down twenty armored guards. The expression on his face, a mix of contempt and annoyance.

However that was not what brought Khorasan to a halt. It was the blue aura that surrounded him, glowing with an ethereal light that made him pause. Of course the soldiers around Khorasan couldn't see it, but the light held an edge of finality and death, posed, and ready to strike out. The unusual aura, a sign of magical potential, and yet in all his life Khorasan had never seen strength such as this. Perhaps once with a dark mage that had let the demon side grow too strong within him, but even that was a pale comparison to this man. It was like he was a part of both worlds.

Disturbed if not a little excited to see how a human could retain this much power, he pushed himself up in the saddle, and directed his question to the legionary officer in charge, an almost equally tall human with badges of rank at his collar, and a square jawline. "What may I ask is the problem here, officer?"

Hard green eyes turned upon him, the soldier waved his arm up in the air. "Be off with you, citizen, this is none of your concern."

As if Khorasan was no more than a flitting bug, the disturbing image irritating Khorasan as he wrinkled his nostrils, and demanded, "let me rephrase that question, soldier, as a high ranking allied officer of the King's Legion, I demand that you tell me what is going on, or I shall have words with your, Commander."

Green eyes blinking upwards in surprise, the man's face grew pale, before he ducked his head down in apology. "Sorry, sir, but this man has been charged with murder, theft, and the possession of stolen property. Until he can face judgment, I have orders to hold him."

Ears pricked up at the charges laid out against him, the man almost rumbled with laughter, when he shook his head and looked up in startlement, his dark gaze looking out over the heads of the soldiers to a young boy and girl that stood watch in front of an inn. The sense of danger the man exuded, somehow growing stronger at their presence with fiery waves of blue aura.

Fearful of what may happen if the man lost control of himself, Khorasan tried to think of a way to calm him down.

(Promise to take care of the children.)

Almost feeling the man's pain as if it were his own, Khorasan drew the horse closer to him, and used a light touch on his mind. "Have no fear, human. I will care for your kin, but you must not act rashly. I know how you humans like to flutter through emotions."

Face hardened into a stone that seemed far too unsurprised at having his mind linked to his own, the man looked up at him, eyes cold as a winter night, and studied Khorasan for a moment, before he nodded his head thoughtfully. And as though sensing his mood the aura faded away, the sense of danger that had hung all around him, gone as well as he held out his arms to either side.

+1 Morale

(Manipulate his mind. Mana 2.)

Almost feeling the man's pain as if it were his own, Khorasan drew the horse closer to him. The light touch he extended to the man's mind, meant to soothe his distress, but instead caused fluctuating waves in his aura, and a kind of resistance that threatened to push him out.

Having never met a human with this much ability, he feared what would happen if he pushed too hard, and yet as he tried to relax the spell, something began to wax within the human, a bubbling pressure that threatened to explode.

-2 Mana.

(If possible, apply more power. Mana 2.)

Breath squeezed out in tiny gasps as the man looked up at him, Khorasan knew he had no choice but to forge on ahead, and forced his way into the man's mind, the chaotic fury, guilt, shame, and pain a wash of emotions that seemed at war with each other, until at last the aura died away. The sense of danger that had hung all around him, gone as he held out his arms to either side.

-2 Mana.

(Pull back your touch.)

Breath squeezed out in tiny gasps as the man looked up at him, Khorasan knew he was too weak to push any further inside, so tried to draw away, when something slammed hard against him, and threw him through the air. The shockwaves that struck, sending him tumbling into a stone wall, his teeth gritted in agony as his wound bled again.

Gaze lifted up from his side, he saw most of the guards splayed out on the ground with the man unconscious at the center, and felt a tremor of fear to think anyone could do this unconsciously. It also made him wonder what else this human was capable of? The soldiers groggily standing back up, quickly surrounded him again, while Khorasan got his footing.

-3 HP.

(Be brutally honest.)

Almost feeling the man's pain as if it were his own, Khorasan drew the horse closer to him, and used a light touch on his mind. "Human, I understand your fears and concerns, but there is no need for bloodshed here. Your death would serve no purpose, and no matter how skilled you think you are, I assure you, you would die. These legionaries have seen the worst of the goblin raids, and will not run. And as for those children you have formed an attachment to, who will protect them? War is coming, and nowhere is safe."

Face hardened into a stone that seemed far too unsurprised at having his mind linked to his own, the man looked up at him, eyes cold as a winter night, and studied Khorasan for a moment, before he nodded his head thoughtfully. And as though sensing his mood the aura faded away, the sense of danger that had hung all around him, gone as well as he held out his arms to either side.

+2 Morale.

Sword belt snatched out from around his hips, they took the sack too, and hustled him away while the officer stood there stamping his feet beside Khorasan, unsure what to do or how to address him.

Outranked and awaiting orders, Khorasan smiled down at him with what he hoped would be called reassurance, and said, "now if you would be so kind as to take me to your commanding officer, I would like to speak with him."

But if he thought the smile would help, Khorasan was sadly mistaken with the soldier's green eyes flickering with fear again, before he nodded his head curtly, and gestured with his left arm. The human's back taut with tension, he strode off with military precision.

Eyes drawn back to the inn as he turned to follow him, Khorasan wondered where the children had gotten off to, and how they were connected to this man, when he was led away to one of the houses. A blocky square building made of stone, that held two banners hung high from the balcony, one a fiery phoenix in flight, and the other the King's sigil of a blue citadel in the sky with puffy white clouds all around it.

Dropping down out of his saddle with a wince, he patted the dun mare that had so faithfully carried him all this way, and as though sensing it was goodbye, the beautiful creature nuzzled his arm.

Smiling as he patted her again, he took the three steps up, and entered the Legion Quarters for the village. The warriors who were off duty, mostly sleeping on hard wooden pallets, playing finger or toe or at least a milder version of the game, and a few just eating and talking. All in all, it was a small garrison of less than a hundred troops detached from the legion to act as the village's protectors. So close to the borders of Caldasher, and the thousands of goblin tribes that tried to raid into their territory, they were the first and last line of defense for places such as these. A chilling thought, considering the news he carried with him.

Not waiting for Khorasan to take a look around the sleeping quarters, the officer led him further inside, past a dining hall where men sat and ate their noonday meals, and into an empty corridor that opened up into a garden on the right, and doorways to the left, before he stopped at a brass-bound wooden door.

The human then looked over his shoulder to check that he was still close behind, before rapping his knuckles on the door, the firm voice that spoke back, hard as nails. "Come in."

With another backward glance towards him, the soldier took a deep breath, and entered with Khorasan close on his heels. The room they entered, wide and spacious, if a little under decorated with four lamps at the corners of the chamber, a painted tapestry of the phoenix on one side, and the King's sigil of a castle on the other. The single blocky desk that sat at the middle of the room, made from oak, and carved with dragons at the corners, as well as stacked high with sheets of paper that were held down by books. A warrior after his own heart that had never stopped learning.

The commander in charge, a fairly tall well-built dwarf, in a plain brown woolen doublet that carried himself with the air of authority, had a thick brown beard at his chin, a hard face, and two stone-cold blue eyes that wedged in a hooked nose.

Studying Khorasan just as hard if not harder, the dwarf caressed the dagger at his hip, before grunting, "Why are you here, elf?"

Lips pulling back into a smile that could cut through steel, Khorasan gestured at the soldier that had brought him inside. "Best if we speak alone, commander."

Eyes set as hard as gems, the dwarf waved the man off, and growled, "Be off with you, lad. Perhaps next time we will speak about the proprieties of keeping watch and not dallying about with strangers."

Cheeks drained of all color, the man stared first at the dwarf then back at Khorasan, green eyes flashing furiously, before he stomped back out into the corridor.

The dwarf who hadn't taken notice of his passage, released a heavy sigh as he continued, "A good soldier, Reyner, and perhaps a better officer too, if he could just rein in that temper of his, and use his head. Now are you going to tell me why a battlemage from the 6th Legion is here?"

Unable to hold back his shock, the stern-faced dwarf chuckled at his expression, pulled out a bottle of heart-knocker from his desk, and waved his arm to a seat opposite him. "Not much call for mages around here, and as far as I know the nearest legion is stationed at Doromar. And judging by the looks of you, you've seen some heavy fighting up there I'd wager. I'd also see about tending that wound of yours, but first you need to tell me what's going on," then as an afterthought, "I am Thoradar, Lord Captain, and Commander from the 22nd Legion."

Not in the least bit surprised by his rank, Khorasan began his lengthy tale, first from the disaster at the canyon, then to the slaughter at Doromar where the better part of five thousand legionaries had lost their lives. All the way down to his escape at the cost of Daystrom's life and that of his brothers, until finally he finished with his arrival here.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Chortling softly to himself, Thoradar sank back into his seat. "Well, no wonder you look like you've been dragged through hell. How long before those green-skinned bastards get here?"

Glad if not a little heartened to see him taking the news so well, Khorasan sipped his drink, enjoying the burn in his lungs, before he replied, "by their numbers, six days at the most, and that's if they do not use their towers."

Fingers scratching his bearded chin, the dwarf quickly set to work with pen and paper. The barked out commands bringing a slew of soldiers in and out of the room as messages were delivered and orders given, the guard room becoming a hive of activity as pigeons were sent out.

Khorasan who now had some time to heal his injuries without the threat of being stabbed, pressed his hand to his side.

(Do not heal.)

But alas, he pulled them back away, determined to save his energy for something far more important. (Infection spreads.)

-2 HP.

(Heal yourself. 1 Mana.)

And with a quick incantation healed his wound. It would sap him of strength for a few days, but as it was, he could not let it fester any longer, and besides he had other things to attend to.

-1 Mana.

+3 HP.

+1 Morale.

Standing up to leave, he turned to Thoradar in the doorway. "I believe you have a man below in the cells. I would like to speak with him."

~*~

Alone in a dungeon that smelled mostly of sweat, manure, and a wet dampness he thought came from being in an old cellar like this, Gregor touched the metal bars, and wondered if it was fate that had brought him here? Had tangled his life up with children that reminded him of Kira, a stray girl who he had nursed back to health after ghouls had destroyed her home, and vampires had fed on her for years.

And now here he was, repeating the same mistakes, while hoping to do better this time around. It would have been better for them if he had stayed away. Less chance of hurting them. Less chance of failing them as he had with Kira.

Back pressed up against the stone wall, he slumped down, mind wondering what to do next, when he heard footsteps come down the short stone staircase.

The same elven mage that he had seen in the village, now in pristine white robes, cleaned of all bloodstains, as he pulled up a chair from the side of the room, and moved to take a seat opposite him.

Appearing much older with creases of exhaustion behind his dark brown eyes, the fae leaned back in his chair, acting as though he was unaware of Gregor studying him.

The elf for all his intentions examining his fingernails as he spoke in a soft melodious voice. "As I am sure you are aware of by now. The charges brought against you by the guild of merchants is quite serious. They not only claim that you killed defenseless orcs, but that you stole their merchandise, and kidnapped two children. It also does not help your judgment that you returned here carrying a sack full of heads, covered in blood, and that the two young ones with you possessed weapons marked by the guild. All in all, things do not look too well for you."

Half laughing at such an obvious statement, Gregor replied, "and I suppose you have come to offer me a way out? If so you've wasted your time, if I wanted to I could have killed everyone up there, and simply walked away."

Dark eyes glowing with amusement, the elven mage smiled. "That is one way to do it, and I'm sure you are capable of it, however I do offer you another solution. Judging by those heads you brought back today, I believe you may have done us a service. The cult of Sezarath is a dangerous force, and one with ties all over Orkeylium, and yet you slew them all, including a shaman I might add by those markings on his face. My only wish for you is that you join the King's Legion, become my apprentice, and help defend this realm."

This time unable to help himself, Gregor threw back his head, and laughed in his face, "Is that all? I am no blasted mage, why would I want to be your apprentice?"

But if the elf took the insult to heart he showed nothing, his eyes simply watched Gregor, before he leaned forward in his seat. "No human, you are no mage, but I believe there is great power within you. And whether you choose to believe it or not, you have people you care for here, that could use your help."

Standing up abruptly, the elf continued on before Gregor could protest. "Think on your answer and I will return in the morning to hear your decision. The fate of your life and many others hangs upon it."

"Wait, who are you?"

Turning with a slight smile, the mage replied with a bow, "I am Khorasan, first mage to the guardians, and advisor to the King. Be well, Gregor." And with that he was gone, back up the stairs.

~*~

After that intriguing meeting with Gregor, and with preparations well underway to leave the village, Khorasan spent the better half of the night in silent contemplation, when he suddenly got the urge to leave his room, a small cramped space that had once been Reyner's, before he had been tossed out. The young officer who seemed to think Khorasan was responsible for all his current woes, shooting him murderous glances from across the corridor where he now slept on a rug, and muttered a slew of curses Khorasan did not recognize. If he ever got the chance, he thought he would ask Gregor about them, certain that at least he would know a few.

But that's not what kept him up this late, skin clammy from the drafts that blew in through the windowsill, he stepped out into the corridor, and tiptoed towards the door. Reyner who lay practically asleep at his doorstep, tossed and turned on the floor, mumbling about elves, and thieves. A thought that would have made Khorasan pause, if only to study the habits and sleep patterns of humans, before he slipped out into the midnight streets. The few people that were still up, worked through the night to pack their belongings onto carts, while armed patrols in winged helms scanned the darkness.

The White Star that shone brightest in the sky, lighting his footsteps as he quickly headed north out of the village, and to the highest point of a hilltop where he would have the clearest view of the night sky. The pale luminescent light that reflected down upon him, allowing Khorasan to see King Tarok in a four-poster bed, wrapped in gold silken sheets. The young ruler of Orkeylium, newly appointed to the role, but had eyes that spoke of a lifetime of struggle.

View changed as Khorasan delved deeper, he saw Qin'lore sitting by the fireplace, her youthful elven features belying her age, and watched her read a book, A Critique of Demon Hierarchies. The temporary leader of the guardians, a humble and keen-sighted woman, who often saw what others feared to see.

Smile twitched as he remembered the way she would sniff her nose at him when they argued, the view switched one last time, and he saw Princess Ailene, a remarkable fae with the talent for seeing. Awake as well, she meditated out in an open courtyard surrounded by hundreds of flowers of all colors, shapes, and sizes.

(Speak to King Tarok.)

Gifted with the inborn ability to commune with those closest to him, he nudged Tarok awake, when a voice drowsily spoke up, "Khorasan?"

"I am sorry to disturb your sleep, my Lord Tarok, but I fear I bring bad news."

Relaying everything that he knew, Khorasan could hear the King's thoughts swirl from outrage at such an attack, to fear for his people. "What will you do, Khorasan? Will you return to the Capital? I certainly could use your guidance here?"

Head shaking already, he replied, "I'm afraid not, your majesty, at least not yet. These people still need my help, and there is something I must learn first."

Mirth bubbling through the voice, Tarok replied back, "I'm sure there is, my friend. Only you would find anything worth studying in this time of crisis, farewell, and I hope to see you again."

"Farewell, your majesty," and with that the link was gone, and he had done all he could to prepare the King for the coming storm.

+2 Morale.

(Speak to Guardian Qin'lore.)

Gifted with the inborn ability to commune with those closest to him, he tapped Qin'lore lightly on the mind, when a waspish voice snapped back at him, "what do you want, Khor, I'm bloody well busy right now, but then you're the blasted reason I'm swamped day and night with all this nonsense."

Unable to hide a wince at her sudden assault, Khorasan shook his head, and relayed all that had happened to him.

Qin her voice quiet as she digested the news, oddly calm in his mind, when she replied, "well blasted hell, Khor, you and I both knew this was bound to happen at some point. The cycle of renewal has never been stopped, and there has never been a moment in history in which the dark ones did not hunger for power, and were not the cause of it. Still, it is worrying that it has happened so soon after the last cleansing."

Memories of other wars flickering at the back of his mind, Khorasan could recall them all, but none felt the same as this. More than one demon of great power had to be working its ambitions upon the world, something that had never happened before.

He explained as much to her, and for once she did not argue with him. "If you're right, then it's all the more reason you should come back, Khor. A single mistake right now, could put an end to the world, and I don't know about you, but I kinda like it the way it is. I'll do what I can to send help your way, but you are needed here."

Releasing a heavy sigh that he hadn't needed to convince her of the danger, he opened his mouth to end the conversation, when he asked instead, "tell me, Qin, has there ever been a mortal who was connected deeply to the underworld."

Mind unable to choke back her surprise, she spat, "well what brought that bloody on?! No don't bother telling me, I've got enough on my plate as it is. From what I remember there was one, a warrior named Ashok, a half-breed, but he died long ago to some wasting disease. As I remember it, his mortal body could not keep the demonic energies in check."

"Thank you, Qin."

Again left with more questions than answers, he bid her goodnight, and wondered if Gregor was the same way?

+1 Morale.

(Speak to Princess Ailene.)

Gifted with the inborn ability to commune with those closest to him, he tapped Ailene lightly on the mind, and felt her bubble with excitement. "Dear brother, it has been far too long! Why haven't you contacted me sooner?! There is so much that I wish to tell you, and I'd love to hear more of your discoveries!"

Half laughing at his little sister's enthusiasm, he tried to calm her down, "I am truly sorry for that, sister, but I have been preoccupied for some time now, and hadn't got the chance to speak with you. But that's not why I contacted you. Please tell me, have you had any visions recently?"

Her thoughts grown sullen at the pointed question, Khorasan could sense her frustration, and being one of three sisters, she was the easiest to read, and had a temper to match, which was why she often tried to meditate in the garden.

Sensing her hesitance to speak, he continued, "please, it could be important, Alie."

Sighing heavily in his mind, he could just picture her eyeroll to the heavens, before she replied back, "very well, dear brother, but next time you will tell me everything you have been up to. Life in the palace is nowhere near as tolerable without you, but let us see. The only visions I've had lately is of a man surrounded by darkness searching for something lost in a tunnel, except it's not a tunnel but a monster's mouth, and it's teeth close shut around him. After that I see him again, but this time he is with someone, and he holds the jaws open, before being swallowed."

Mind swirling with possibilities, he thanked her, and promised to speak with her again.

Silent as he returned back to his chambers, Khorasan slept the rest of the night fitfully, and awoke early in the morning, the Legion Quarters a steady hum of activity as warriors readied themselves. The steady sound of blades being sharpened, added to the noise of guards talking about rumors of giants, while out in the corridor villagers lined up to see the commander, who judging by the faces of those that left, was not in a pleasant mood.

+5 HP.

But Khorasan had other things on his mind, such as rejuvenating his depleted energy. Fingers folded behind his back to avoid rumpling his robes which he had meticulously cleaned, he headed back out, and passed Reyner in the hallway. The young officer he saw, rubbed his spine, and cursed soldiers that did not hurry as Khorasan slipped back out into the streets.

The road which ran through the village, much busier than it's ever been with hundreds of orcs gathered from the countryside, wearing travel-stained clothes, and carrying the last of their possessions on their backs. Those that he passed by in the streets, bobbing their heads down towards him, and creating an open space as he strode west. The news of his recent arrival, and the need to evacuate, spread like wildfire, until even the remotest outreaches of the border were hauling sacks filled with their livelihoods, or rolling in on wagons overflowing with belongings. The King's Guard that tried to build order from the chaos, a thin line of warriors that were stretched as they tried to settle disputes, and speed up those too slow to move. The word that an army was on its way, caused an air of tension to fill the air as many cast looks over their shoulders.

Khorasan who knew all too well how much more they should be afraid, did his best to avoid their questions, before he stopped in the middle of the road where it was quiet and secluded.

The suns that rose high into the sky, high enough that he closed his eyes. The energies he felt in the air, stirred into focus as he began to draw magical energy through an ancient art, the elven called Awakened Sleep. Whereas Khorasan had always seen it as a different kind of awareness, where all his senses were sharpened, and he could project his mind outward.

The flaming points of light that appeared in his mind's eye, were the lifeforms that represented everyone, and every person with slight variations in color for warriors with hues of red, light green for farmers, and for the children a bright white which he imagined was due to their innocence. Although to his surprise he could see two touched by darkness, while further down below him, Gregor was a deep fiery blue.

Here in this new sense of awareness, he could convert the energy that flowed through him into mana, mana that would be needed for spells. And right now he feared he would need every spell in his arsenal. (Distance and time can harm your health.)

  What do you do?

Choice 1. Send your spirit North to the mountains?

Choice 2. Send your spirit South to the next town?

Choice 3. Send your spirit West to the mills?

Choice 4. Send your spirit East to the farms?