Where surely even the raiders could not survive, search out their hiding place and bring us back proof that they have found the hidden fortress in the desert. We further decree that they may retain all they bring forth with them for their own use from that fabled land of death. Be it yet further decreed that if they prefer not this quest they may choose death by hanging, death by hanging, death by fireball, death by polymorph, death by flame strike, death by lightning...
Rolling the scroll back up with calloused hands, the commander leans down towards you. "What it means, you poor foreigners, is that you have been chosen to enter that cursed dead land south of here. It means that it doesn't matter whether you were in the tent. You are easy to get rid of.
"And it also means" speaks the aged, though rugged, form beside the commander, "That these raiders has caused his majesty a good deal of trouble with the Barons. You're his proof that he is doing something about them." His laugh rolls through the hills.
Braedmodon shrugs. "Worth a shot. Well, since I'm not too keen on imminent death, I guess it's into the desert I go. What kind of supplies do you have for us?"
Odysseus wakes up and listens carefully to the Kong’s words, thinking
”oh what a mess, well that’s not much of a choice”
so he nods at the messenger and looks at what he means for supplies
ooc: do we know these lands? Maybe because I am not an English mother tongue I may have lost something, are we to go roaming or more or less we know where to go?
The commander points to a path through the desert. Looking south across the land, you see mountains to the south, east. You have heard tales of this place. Unclaimed treasure awaits.
With another shrug, Braedmodon mounts his horse and looks to the others. "We might as well get started," he says, then heads out on the indicated path.
Stretching to the limits of your sight, the grey mounds of the desert roll with ashen stillness into the distance, baked by the blazing sun. Not a single stone shows through the powdery plane nor a single insect scurries across its surface. All about you, the burning silence of the sand-sea is oppressive and forbidding. No landmark steers your way, except the sun, its track seeming to sink ever closer and hotter towards your path. The ash-dust billows under your feet and chokes your parched throats.
Rising up out of the dust, twin pillars of stone stand slanting at odd angles, their surfaces pockmarked and sand-worn. Odd descriptions are faintly visible in the pockmarked surfaces.
Part 6:
Where surely even the raiders could not survive, search out their hiding place and bring us back proof that they have found the hidden fortress in the desert. We further decree that they may retain all they bring forth with them for their own use from that fabled land of death. Be it yet further decreed that if they prefer not this quest they may choose death by hanging, death by hanging, death by fireball, death by polymorph, death by flame strike, death by lightning...
Part 7:
Rolling the scroll back up with calloused hands, the commander leans down towards you. "What it means, you poor foreigners, is that you have been chosen to enter that cursed dead land south of here. It means that it doesn't matter whether you were in the tent. You are easy to get rid of.
"If we can choose how we die, can I choose old age?" Braedmodon quips.
Part 8:
"And it also means" speaks the aged, though rugged, form beside the commander, "That these raiders has caused his majesty a good deal of trouble with the Barons. You're his proof that he is doing something about them." His laugh rolls through the hills.
No, the death has to be immenint
Part 9:
The commander silences him with a sharp look, then continues. "We have brought you certain supplies."
Braedmodon shrugs. "Worth a shot. Well, since I'm not too keen on imminent death, I guess it's into the desert I go. What kind of supplies do you have for us?"
Will you create a thread for the game and a campaign or is becoming the game thread?
it is difficult for me to post before tomorrow
This will be the thread
Odysseus wakes up and listens carefully to the Kong’s words, thinking
”oh what a mess, well that’s not much of a choice”
so he nods at the messenger and looks at what he means for supplies
ooc: do we know these lands? Maybe because I am not an English mother tongue I may have lost something, are we to go roaming or more or less we know where to go?
The soldiers give you each a horse and two weeks of food and water.
We don't know these lands.
Perzival says: "This land is as beautiful as the elven castle I grew up in!"
Intro part 10:
The commander points to a path through the desert. Looking south across the land, you see mountains to the south, east. You have heard tales of this place. Unclaimed treasure awaits.
It will be yours if you can survive!
With another shrug, Braedmodon mounts his horse and looks to the others. "We might as well get started," he says, then heads out on the indicated path.
Stretching to the limits of your sight, the grey mounds of the desert roll with ashen stillness into the distance, baked by the blazing sun. Not a single stone shows through the powdery plane nor a single insect scurries across its surface. All about you, the burning silence of the sand-sea is oppressive and forbidding. No landmark steers your way, except the sun, its track seeming to sink ever closer and hotter towards your path. The ash-dust billows under your feet and chokes your parched throats.
(BTW, since we're starting at level 6 is it safe to assume I'd have been able to acquire a rapier at some point?)
Rising up out of the dust, twin pillars of stone stand slanting at odd angles, their surfaces pockmarked and sand-worn. Odd descriptions are faintly visible in the pockmarked surfaces.
Also, throughout the desert you can see the raiders tracks clearly in the sand.
Perzival says: " We should follow these tracks, we were ordered too. I don't want to die, personally. Don't know about you guys."
Braedmodon nods. "I'm all for getting out of this desert alive. Seems like the tracks should lead us to SOMETHING. Or at least someone."
Perzival says: "I agree, lets set off!"