After the last plague pool receded, Ryn hoped there might finally be peace in the Myth Wood. He sat back in his keep, and pondered what catastrophe might befall the woods next, because peace never seemed to last. He also reflected upon his journeys through the woods that led him to where he ended up at this moment. 

Werewolves, trolls, wars for power, toxic asteroids, all of these things had changed him, but if it was for better or worse, he wasn’t sure. One thing was certain though, he never thought he would have risen to be a Jarl, or to have such powerful allies at his side. He thought back to when he was just a Brigand, and the shenanigans he got into, and laughed. “I was foolish back then,” he mused, “but it seems that The Six still found a use for me.” 

He unconsciously unlocked the gold lock, the jailer’s keys never leaving the peg on the wall, and strolled down the hall of the jail, empty in this peaceful time. He recalled some of the people who had visited these cells, from lowly thieves, to powerful fighters, and a Devil too, whose axe didn’t quite fit in the weapons rack. Whoever thought putting him in here was a good idea was sadly mistaken, as was evident by the lingering scorch marks around that particular cell. 

He made his way back out of the jail, and decided to take a stroll through the woods, believing some fresh air would be a good idea after the damp air of the jail. As he left, he waved over to Tilbury, still busy at his shop, The Rusty Cauldron. He headed off to Hammer’s Hold, to visit with Jarl Faolin, and see how the Hold had fared since it hadn’t been able to be accessed with the plague pool engulfing it. 

Ryn heard the ringing of the blacksmith’s hammer as he approached, and saw Arthur back at his old forge, thankfully unharmed by the plague. The bar of metal he was working was still rough in shape, so Ryn couldn’t quite tell what the craftsman was making, but whether blade or bauble, he was sure it would be a quality piece. He waved to Arthur as he headed towards the gate. Almost to the gate, Ryn heard a friendly shout from the keep, and found Gadaren polishing Magh Swer, although the sword gleamed brightly already. Just by the way he greeted Ryn, it was apparent that Gadaren was happy to be home again. “Is Faolin around?” Ryn asked, knowing his ally would likely be inside his keep after being forced out by the vile pools of plague.  Continue reading Ryn: Peace Never Lasts →

As told by Fenik Blackwhistle, the Opinionated

Discovered by Ryn Hawkwind

So, I was peacefully asleep, enjoying a dream not related to those damned mines for a change, when a howl pierced that dream. I slammed awake and realized the Talls that roam this wood during the warmer months had returned. I walked out of my quaint tree home and saw troll Riddick fighting with the Talls, with much hatred and gusto. I was curious as to why the troll was so violent, he seemed so benevolent to us and where the new troll with him had come from. I then noticed that there was a man in dark purple robes, and an evil grin on his bearded face, and they both seemed to be under his sway. That made me rather uneasy, to say the least.

 I made my way to what these giants call King’s Rest, and there I saw a group discussing how to rid the woods of the werewolves, a young general, a soldier, and a thief, a rather odd grouping in my eyes. They were looking for others to join their party, as they didn’t feel competent to complete this task on their own, and went off in search of others. I soon saw them with two more in their party, another general with the legendary FairenGar, and a magic user. Those magic users all look the same to us, fancy robes, magic bag of crap, and they love to make their enemies stand in place, only this one seemed unfazed by the pure white Mythranium around his neck. They went off in search of the werewolf, and I nodded back off, hoping to return to my rudely interrupted dream. I do hope they get these werewolves taken care of……

I was again awoken, gladly this time, as the nightmares of the mine returned, by the same group of giants gathering around the tree in King’s Rest. There was talk of killing someone named “Vigo”, and how this thief wanted to see the person be removed from this land for good. The magic user with the Mythranium necklace removed Titania’s Dagger from the tree, and the thief attached it to his belt, which had many pouches, probably filled with other people’s money. Dirty thieves, stealing from those who work hard to earn their keep. Anyway, they set off in search of their quarry, and my what a band of misfits they were. Mercenaries, soldiers, magic users, generals, thieves, all working as one. It made me smile, to see those of different classes come together. I decided to follow them, as this seemed important to watch, and my nap was ruined anyway.

They went to the graveyard, and tried to lure this “Vigo” into a trap. One of the larger giants yelled something about a “Red Rover”, and asked Vigo to bring it over, or something like that, but this Vigo wasn’t falling for the trap. The thief with Titania’s Dagger and two others left, leaving those in the graveyard to presumably draw Vigo to them. I followed the small group, hoping to see the Dagger used wisely, and shortly after making their plan, the man in the purple robes, as well as some less savory fellows, appeared and killed them. They called this robed man “Vigo” and I started to understand their desire to kill him. He held sway over my Troll friend, and that angered me. The other troll killed the thief, absorbing his energy and making it some sort of magic armor, and picked up the Dagger. I had lost hope in these adventuring giants, and thought their plan had failed. I decided to go back to King’s Rest to try, yet again, to get some sleep. Working during the night to keep this place neat is no easy feat, and makes one weary, so this disturbance needed to be ended somehow.

I was awoken to Vigo yelling something about a deal to be made with the adventuring group as they walked into town. He started to say he would give Gadaren the fabled Dagger, when the unfamiliar Troll plunged it into his back. Vigo’s eyes grew wide in pain and fear, realizing that he had been betrayed, and that his being was slowly fading from these woods forever. The adventurers had no idea what to think of this, as that troll had always worked against them. Then, when they determined that this was indeed no ploy, there was much rejoicing amongst the giants, realizing that their mission had succeeded, though not how they had imagined it, no doubt. Maybe now I can go back to sleep, there will be much cleaning tonight. Blood stains don’t come out of grass very easily….