Chapter One: Tears of the Dawn

Falawyn is home, and has been for your family for as long as
time can remember. The meandering brooks, the vast forests, and the towering mountains are as familiar to you as the sound of your own voice. Life is good. Life is simple.

However... all things change.
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Chapter One: Tears of the Dawn

Post by Sandcrawler » Sun January 15 06 ; 11 05 pm

Falawyn. For ages, it has been home to many a namegiver. It is a hard place, freezing cold in the winters as the snow screams down the cliffs of the Scol Mountains. The spring brings the heavy rains that pour down from the heavens like a deluge for weeks upon end. But summer... summers in Falawyn are the stuff of legends, and no namegiver could hope for more from a home... warm sunshine, fragrant breezes replete with the scent of wildflowers and pine, and food, plucked straight from the farm or pasture. The thoughts of summer are enough to bring a smile to any of Falawyn's residents.

It is summer now, night of the solstice, and Falawyn is going to bed. The night's celebration lasted long into the small hours of the morning. The weaker of constitution have long since retired to their beds, and even the more robust of the revellers have exhausted their energies for the night. A few shouts of farewell echo throughout the still night air from one person to another. Finally, all is silent.

In the air, a single red ember falls from the sky to settle upon the dewed earth. Its red light slowly fades, its brief spark of life extinguished with a near-silent hiss.

From where did it come? The flames of Falawyn's bonfires had long since gone out, untended by the inebriated souls who would rather drink summer mead than stoke a dying fire. Where, then?

The wind comes from the east, higher up the mountain. Perhaps there? Yes, let us look and see. Higher up we travel, and look.. another ember, and yet another. Further along now, and more embers join the others, these larger and burning hotter than their lighter brethren. Up a steep rise, past a copse of dense spruce... the air is warmer here, tinged with the scent of ash and brimstone. A little closer, and a sound can be heard, the steady roar of flame and the random crackling of burning wood. The air is brighter here, too, lit from some source yet higher upon the craggy side of the mountain. Just a bit further now...

... A lone figure stands atop a rocky rise. He is bloodied and burned, but he stands with strength and a fierce pride that cannot be lost. A mighty axe is clenched in his hands, bright and calling for blood. Before him a village burns, the source of the ember that landed so far away from here. The creature's shaggy head shakes in rage and despair, for his family, his clan, his people are dead. He is the last.

He bellows his challenge to the sky, knowing that he calls his death down upon himself. He cares not, for his soul burns for the release of the afterlife. Death he calls, and Death answers.

With the rustling of gigantic wings through the air, it comes, and with the terrible sound of cracking bones and parting flesh, the creature is born aloft. With the resounding clash of steel on stone, the axe falls to the earth to lodge in a massive, moss-covered boulder.

In the distance, the village burns.

__________________________________

Cries of alarm wake you from your slumber. What time it is exactly you cannot tell, though a faint greyish light fights its way into your bedchamber through the open window.

Blinking sleep from your eyes, you stumble to your feet, grabbing your clothing and struggling it onto you body as you head for the door. Thinking twice, you grab your weapon. It could be that a Krillra was about menacing the herds.

As you emerge from your home into the cool and damp air of early morning, you are greeted by the sight of several other villagers milling about in a similar fashion to your own. Much, the town miller, seems to be the source of the shouting.

As he spots you, he gestures wildly to the east, where a red halo outlines the sharp crags of the Scols, a red dawning where no sun could exist. A dark smudge of blackness rises from the spot where he points.

Troykel, Falawyn's blacksmith shakes his scaled head. The T'Skrang mutters darkly, "This can't be good. No it can't. The Trolls. That's what it is. Something happened to them. That's their village. I'd bet my life on it."

A nearby villager nods in sudden and vocal agreement, "Yes, its the Trolls! Their damned village is afire!" Excited chattering breaks out as more and more of Falawyn's residents emerge from their homes to find out what the commotion is about.

It does not take long before Hront's loud voice rings out over the din, "That's enough. There's naught that any of us can do while its still dark out. Take yourselves back abed and let the village council decide what to do about this."

Whander Liftinson's wheezy voice pipes up from somewhere nearby, "Send someone to see what's afoot, that's what we're going to do. Don't you even think about doing otherwise, Hront!"

The burly Dwarf can now be seen near the town well. He pulls himself up on the lip of it where he can be better seen, "That's enough! All of you abed. You three," he points to Aidan, the Windling Elementalist, Chantrelle, Obsidiman Troubador, and Dajja, the Dwarf Nethermancer, "over here!"

Hearing their names, the three Adepts approach. Each looks at the other with mild apprehension. Their status as one of the village's handful of Adepts was often the source of mixed feelings coming from the other people of Falawyn. It also meant that of all beings there, they were most gifted to help in times of need.

Hront looks each of them with a worried expression, and he guards his words until most of the villagers nearby move away towards their homes before he speaks quietly, "I know not what has occured, but it cannot be good. Take what you need and see what you can find out. Do not take any risks. Once you find out what has happened, return here. By then, the village will be settled into a modicum of normality, and we can decide what, if anything must be done based on what you see."

He turns and smiles uncertainly at a few straggling villagers as the few members of the village council slowly extract themselves from the others and make their way towards the well. They are all easy to recognize, of course. There is Troykel and Beezsel, Nostrel and, unfortunately, the slinking form of Whander. As they near, each gives you a quick nod of affirmation to Hron'ts words, even Whander to your surprise, for he normally goes against the suggestions of any just for the sake of disagreeing. Of course, he did suggest the plan in the first place, so his arguments would hold little air.
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Post by Utopia » Thu January 19 06 ; 8 36 am

"Bollocks..." Dajja murmurs to herself as she stumbles from her house. "Mother is always sending me instead... beauty sleep... bah. Who needs it?" She rubs her eyes, her clothing obviously thrown on and disheveled. Her long brown hair is loose and wild, uncombed. She stumbles toward the call, only at the last minute grabbing a sackful of things by the door along with her cloak.

Her stark blue eyes look to the Obsidiman and the Windling whom she's just been grouped with. After a moment she smiles and waves to them, her youth showing through. From her wave, she stiffles a yawn with her hand, "I... mmm... yeah good morning I guess. It's too early... or late... or whatever for these things. Oh well, I suppose I'll just sleep... later... or never. Who knows." She drops her hand to her side and pushes her hair from her face.

"I suppose we ought to head over there. Hopefully while we're gone it won't decide to come here..." she says off-handedly as only a disaffected child nethermancer could her eyes darting to the obsidiman standing well above her and then the windling. She shrugs slightly and grins.
I don't want the world, I just want your half.

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Post by Utopia » Sat February 04 06 ; 7 03 am

The small little dwarven girl hops up and down looking at the other two adepts. "Maybe we can get there before daybreak... " she looks to the two beside her and cants her head to one side, blinking at them curiously.
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Post by Sandcrawler » Mon February 06 06 ; 11 28 am

OOC: Yes! Maybe!

C'mon, people... are you still out there?
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Post by Sandcrawler » Wed February 08 06 ; 2 58 pm

Well.... due to a somewhat lacklustre start, I'm going to pause this scenario until we get some more interest.

If anyone reading this is interested in joining in, please feel free. As of right now, Utopia is the only one posting, so the game's a bit.... slow.

Sorry to Utopia. Maybe we'll get more interest in a little bit.
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Re: Chapter One: Tears of the Dawn

Post by darkrevni » Sat March 04 06 ; 5 59 pm

'...a ruby red rainbow, willowing wonder...'

Shaking his head he looks over to his brothers, a silent comment passing among them. Trelle smiles at Sun's strength and his other brothers calm.

"I think someone wants an answer Trelle. Bring back a tale" Sun rumbles.

Trelle looks down and nods and pulls his spiked mace, pats his great dagger, and fondles an empty bag around his neck.

"After you, I am ready."

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Post by Sandcrawler » Mon March 06 06 ; 12 53 pm

OOC: Two out of three ain't bad... Let's give it a shot! I'm game!

The Windling flitters upwards and alights upon Trelle's shoulder iwth a flourish, "Aiden, Elementalist extraordinaire and representative of all things magical hereby assumes leadership of this endeavor. Forwards, Rockman! Forwards onto glory! His light blue robes flutter in the light breeze as his small arm points upwards towards the glowing light.

The other two smile. Aiden had always been... colorful to say the least. In times of distress, he could always be counted upon to bring a smile from the darkest situation. While not the most powerful of beings, he was nonetheless knowledgeable of the arcane arts of the Elementalist, having taken tutelage directly from Spinnaker, an aged Windling of questionable sanity but unquestionable knowledge.

The three name-givers set out, each lost in thought, thier mission heavy on their minds. Ahead, something lay burning, and the thought that it may be the Troll's village left many questions unanswered. Behind them lay a village fraught with concern. All of the answers were up to these young Adepts to glean. This first task given them by the village council was at once terrifying, and exciting.

OOC: Please post marching order, and any special precautions the characters are taking. The journey should take a generous half day, depending upon how quickly the group travels.
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Post by Utopia » Mon March 06 06 ; 1 42 pm

Dajja adjusts her disheveled pink skirt as she falls in line next to the Obsidiman, trying to smooth it out so she can walk a bit easier. She wraps her cloak around her shoulders, the faded black clashing horribly against her pink and green ensemble of obviously sleep (or rather, lack there of) induced attire.

"Lucky little bugger, getting a ride." she mutters, looking up at the Windling that perches on Trelle's shoulder. She tilts her head way back to be able to see the pair of them, her childish stature emphasized by the sheer height of the obsidiman. "Think we should grab something to eat on the road? I mean it'll take us a good... um... well... while to get there. I've got wee little legs and no ride afterall." she says shooting a look at Aiden. "And I know I get grouchy when I'm hungry."
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Post by Sandcrawler » Mon March 06 06 ; 2 31 pm

Aiden laughs and rocks back and forth atop the Obisidiman's shoulder, "Ha! Too bad you were born a Dwarf! As for food, who can think of food at a time like this? We are three ambassadors of Falawyn on our way to aid the embattled Trolls! There is nothing more exciting than this!" As he rocks to and fro atop Trelle's shoulder, the little Windling absently conjures some small balls of glistening water and juggles them from hand to hand.
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Re: Chapter One: Tears of the Dawn

Post by darkrevni » Mon March 06 06 ; 6 39 pm

Chantrelle begins with a long accustomed stride, but quickly he slows to match Dajja's pace. Then with a shake of his head he swings her up onto his other shoulder, and with a few haltering steps steadies into a travelers gait.

"Keep watch, I will keep steady." He moves forward his mind focused on the trail that he has traveled many times. He softly chants a marshal tune, allowing his limbs to fall into the didactic patterns.

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Post by Utopia » Thu March 09 06 ; 6 31 am

"Weee!" Dajja says as she claps her hands together childishly. She giggles over at the windling and winks at him.

"You watch forward, I'll watch back." she says, suddenly taking a serious tone, her attitude almost manic now. "Unless our..." she clears her throat, rolling her eyes slightly, "...leader wants to keep a watch behind or you know... do something else leaderly."
I don't want the world, I just want your half.

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Post by Sandcrawler » Thu March 09 06 ; 10 50 am

OOC: Foxtails will be joining us shortly (hopefully) to assume the role of Aiden once again. In the meantime, I will continue so as not to lose momentum any more than we already have.

The three name-givers make their way up the mountain at Trelle's sedate, yet ground-eating pace. The familiar environs of Falawyn proper slowly fade to less familiar set of surroundings. The ground gradually gets rockier, the vegetation more sparse as they climb.

An hour into their journey, the sun suddenly lances out from behind the mountain behind them, washing the entire mountainside in a warm, orange glow. Above, birds take to the sky in search of food, and the occasional small animal can be heard rushing through the long grasses. On a cliffside far away, a mountain lion can be seen for a fleeting instant before it shies away from the name-giver's approach.

On the horizon, a dark smudge of smoke can be seen, slowly getting more and more distinct as they get closer. The general feeling of merriment slowly fades as the three get closer to their objective, and a dour feeling of ominous oppression slowly sets in as the sound of wildlife fades and silence descends.

_______________________

It is just after midday. The three name-givers stand at the crest of a small, rocky rise. Before them lies the remnants of the Troll's village.

Large huts of stone and grass lie in smashed heaps. All of the grasses and thatched roofs have long since burned away. Larger piles still smoulder and spew brown smoke into the blue sky. A large tree, easily two feet in diameter, lies in the middle of some form of town square, toppled over to the earth and cracked in half at the midpoint.

Everywhere there are bodies.

Old and young, male and female. Trolls, all. Dead, all. Some are burned to non-recognizeable lumps of charred flesh. Others are rended limb from limb, mere piles of red flesh and buzzing flies. There are weapons here and there, though none are bloodied. A silence more deafening than anything that could be imagined lies over the scene.
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Post by Utopia » Fri March 10 06 ; 2 20 pm

Dajja pulls a bit of trail rations and starts knawing on them as she surveys the carnage. A strange smile creeps onto her childish face as she studies the bone, blood and ash everywhere, her attention flitting to the bones.

When she gets bored of looking at the bodies from a distance (about the same time she finishes eating) she looks to the obsidiman and windling with a smile only a Nethermancer could muster at such a scene. "I'm going to take a closer look..." She smiles widely, a slight giggle on her lips as she traipses off toward the nearest body.

OOC: Perception and searching type checks. Then some anatomy checks to see if I can figure out what killed them (aside from fire and blood loss due to being torn limb from limb).
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Re: Chapter One: Tears of the Dawn

Post by darkrevni » Sat March 11 06 ; 3 12 am

Trelle gazes over the ruins and feels the loss of the Troll village acutely. Not being the most... perceptive. He holds position as the others search. Searching his brain he tries to think of a tale that could explain this.

Pulling out the mace he follows the other two into the charnal... village. His gaze taking in the scene, his mind pulls back to a Troll dirge that he learned years before. As the raspy inflections roll he steadies his voice into a tone of solidity, and of resolve.

Turning he begins to exhume a pit in the village green for a mass grave.

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Post by Sandcrawler » Sat March 11 06 ; 9 36 am

Aiden is white-faced, forced into silence by the scope of what he sees. At Dajja's nonchalant comment, he collapses to his knees atop Trelle's shoulder, "I... What? Who? What happened here." His voice is little more than a whisper.

Dajja shrugs and moves into the village. Her childlike body skips from body to body. Never had she seen death on such a scale. It was exhillerating. Her mentor would be very jealous, she knew.

As Trelle moves cautiously through the carnage, Aiden still silent upon his shoulder, Dajja makes several notable discoveries...

The village is littered with the spoor of some gigantic creature. Talon marks spaced over two feet apart and telling the tale of a foot perhaps six or seven feet wide. Here and there on the ground are the marks of great wings dragged through the earth. And everywhere... there is the fire. It travelled in a long line, and was launched with enough force to flatten buildings in its path and blow trees to the ground before they burned.

The word hangs in the air, unspoken but well understood, for there is only one creature in all of Barsaive capable of such devastation.

Dragon.
Meddle not in the affairs of Dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup...

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