To all of you who decided to embark on this wild ride, welcome!! I can't really put into words how excited I am about this, seeing as how they're all trying to crash out at once.
Things to Remember
- Follow the character creation guidelines in the Campaign Info tab and the Recruitment thread. All character-related questions can be sent to me.
- There's a couple of documents that pertain specifically to the progress of the story. The Accumulated Knowledge doc does away with overlapping and unnecessary Knowledge checks, plus it will track everything the party learns over the course of their travels. The Dramatis Personae doc is a fun little thing to keep track of who's who and who's dead (not that I'm trying to kill anyone... as far as you know).
- My intended start date is Friday, August 17th. Be there or be disassembled on a subatomic level.
This is not a story I have chosen to tell lightly. The Last Continent, as it has come to be called, is a haven of light in a world of darkness, but it is also the fate of light to cast shadows wherever its gaze may fall.
Below us, far below the boundaries of sight and sound, you may just catch a glimpse of it. Pardon me while I bring it closer... ah, there. Perfection, isn't it? Every speck of its landmass was hand-crafted, you know. I have never seen its equal.
Now... it's beginning. Look. Listen. Learn the fate of this world and those within it.
The lights form a loose circle somewhere in the vastness of the heavens. Even the term 'lights' is a bit misleading - not all of them shine, but they shimmer and vibrate in tune with the sounds of creation itself. Their forms are both ephemeral and eternal - fleeting in their constancy, yet possessed of an otherworldly grace that assures you they will somehow last forever.
There is a sixth space sitting empty in their midst. The five who remain are somber, unwilling to accept this fate as their own.
Finally, the brightest opens himself to the Communion. "We all know what must be done. Our family has caused enough pain - we must inflict but little more to see this doom to its end."
At first, there are no replies. The brightest hangs like a sullen supernova, ignorant of the demise that awaits. Then another speaks, this one cold and flowing like an autumnal stream. "Magic is my domain, dearest brother. Should I not be the one to abate our wayward sibling's wrath?"
"That would be unwise," the brightest counters gently. "We must stay together. All will be lost if we do not act as one spirit."
A void stirs between the stars, revealing itself to be one of the five, by far the darkest and youngest. "You propose a solution none of us wish to enact. This is a judgment we cannot blindly follow."
The brightest seems taken aback. "Sister, if we had more time and options, I would suggest a different path. Sadly, we have none. Please understand..."
"Our brother is correct," answers another, this one harsh and unmoving, pressing down with the weight and authority of gravity itself. "The end has come, and we are unprepared. How can we abstain from acting in defense of our one objective?"
The others remain silent in the wake of the outburst. The heavens move as the Communion deliberates, each one struggling to find the way forward.
Then, the fifth speaks. "We are divided. Therefore, I must choose. Dearest brother, first among us, and dear sister, second among us, you are right... we must act swiftly so the land might heal."
With their conclusion reached, the members of the Communion depart one by one until only the brightest remains, basking in the light and shadow of the fathomless realm. Eventually, even that light departs.
Down below, the Last Continent lay pure and unmarred, unaware of the trials to come.
A verdict was reached that day, one that would forever alter the course of history for the Last Continent. To be sure, history had been lengthened, and a fate far worse than any could conceive tends to change the narrative, but a cost must always be paid.
This is the story of those who paid that debt.
Whatever you thought was going to happen when you went off to war, this definitely isn't it.
None of you thought that the whole world would be engulfed in light and noise that made the foundations of the continent tremble with fear.
None of you thought that, once the whole world was engulfed in said light and noise, you would survive.
None of you thought that you'd wake up in one piece, or at all.
The grass underneath your prone body is cool to the touch, while the heat of the sun has started to sting your cheeks and forehead from laying down for so long. You can hear birds and insects chirruping in the distance, and once you open your eyes, you can clearly see the blue expanse up above, its majesty slightly obscured by an errant, wispy cloud.
Everything seems... fine.
You just know deep in your gut that it's anything but fine.
Uarach’s eyes opened. He lay on the ground for a moment, breathing heavily, before slowly getting on his feet. He quickly made sure his essentials were there. His sling was at his hip and his pack was on his back. He briefly closed his eyes and felt it, the aspect of the mountain lion, a wild and untamed fragment of his psyche.
Even as the light shone brightly above him, Deepshadow instinctually drew shadows around himself. Standing, he looked about the area, checking for other soldiers that might have survived.
Slowly, Thurmond Lighthammer push himself up to a sitting position, his gauntleted hand clutching his brow.
"Ach! Damn!" The dwarven scion grunted. "I feel like I took a sap inbetween the eyes! And the blasted lights aren't helping!"
"You okay there?" the halfling shaped patch of darkness asked the Dwarf.
"I think I'll live", said the dwarf, who immediately went into a coughing fit. "Where are the others?" Thurmoud recovered.
Tel walks up from behind, panting slightly. His myriad tattoos oscillate ever so lightly as he walks forward."Sorry, I was lagging a bit. What happened?" Briefly he glances around the battle field. "I suppose the battle is over? Does anyone know what that light was?
More welcoming than a stone floor, Zenebe was still quick to stand from the grass and look for others. What happened?!
Instead of drawing his sword, his hand went for one of his wands at his belt. His smooth hands grasping the ensorcelled oak, the absence of immediate combat sound made him feel at ease - at least as much as someone who wasn't really a fighter would be in a time of supposed war.
Shouting for friendly troops, his keen ears caught the sound of speech in the distance. His wand at the ready, he came across a shadow and a stout man.
"A few survivors is a good start! What happened to us?" The baritone of Zenebe's voice did not match the jittery nature of his body; while he looked about nervously, the sound sentences weren't rushed, coming off with an almost regal authority in their well-articulated completeness.
Uarach creeps closer to the group, still staying back a bit.
"A few survivors is a good start! What happened to us?" The baritone of Zenebe's voice did not match the jittery nature of his body; while he looked about nervously, the sound sentences weren't rushed, coming off with an almost regal authority in their well-articulated completeness.
"I-I don't remember", the dwarf said as he slowly got to his feet. Checking his gear, Thurmoud found all his belongings were still on his person. "Well, we weren't robbed, at least."
The dwarf's statement is true - your belongings and your person are still very much intact. It's what's not there that should give you pause.
You're the only ones still standing in the field, yet there are no corpses or signs of struggle. Your companions have vanished.
Zenebe looked around for indicators of their plight, relieved those he found weren't hostile.
"Of our belongings, maybe. But look around - someone or something seems to have whisked away our surroundings."
Uarach finally makes his way to the group. He nods and says in a deep but surprisingly soft voice, accented by the clipped brogue of the southern mountains, ”I am Uarach, of the Galshan. My greetings.” After that, he takes a brief glance around before inspecting the area, his knowledge of the wild coming in handy.
Tel turns to the newcomer, Greetings. Tel, at your service. Back to Zenebe, "Not our surroundings exactly, but we seem to have lost a couple of armies.
"You may call me Deepshadow." says the Halfling with a bow.
The dwarf introduces himself as "Thurmoud Lighthammer of Clan Lighthammer."
Uarach looks around, feeling the wind and noticing the clouds far in the distance. He says, ”There is a storm coming.” He looks around a bit more, feeling the strength of the wind and the distance of the clouds, ”It should come in a few hours. I suggest we find shelter before that.”
Tel nods in agreement. "I'm not exactly an expert at such things, so I'll defer to your judgement. Unfortunately I was a bit distracted as I came down the trail and didn't notice any good places to shelter. In a pinch we can make camp in the trees, but if any of you have a better idea, I'd be happy to hear it.
He scans the field to see if he can see any geography in the nearby area that might provide shelter
With more details of your surroundings hashed out and the threat of a storm looming in the near future, you're left out in the open, just five of you in a world that doesn't seem to notice you're here.
What do you do?
Uarach nods and says, ”Let’s go then. No sense waiting for the storm to catch us.” With that he starts walking towards the forest, not waiting for others to dawdle.
Thurmoud follows the lanky human, taking rear guard due to his natural short legs.
Tel too falls in line, his pace ever so slightly quicker than Thurmond.
Immediately to the northeast, and where most of you are headed, is a picturesque woodland, its exterior bright and verdant while its interior sulks in heavy shade. Smaller copses of trees litter the landscape to the west where the road marker sits, while the plains open up to reveal a vast series of rolling hills south of your position, which eventually clamber up onto the foothills of the majestic, if rather inhospitable-looking, mountains.
The scenery is all familiar, but you can’t shake the feeling that nothing is truly as it was before the blast.
Deepshadow moves along with the others, keeping an eye on the approaching storm as he goes.
Suspicious about the structure beyond the trees yet unsure of the depth of his concern, Zenebe kept silent for the time being. Who knows what these people did beforehand. They seem safe enough though.
"There might be things here beyond a simple storm," Zenebe reminded them. We were prepared to fight. "Let's keep our ears open, hmm?"
He couldn't help but glance back toward the structure he saw a touch of from time to time.
"I've never been very good at keeping my eyes peeled, ears open and all that. But I do have something that will help."
He reaches his left hand over his right hand, and when he removes his had a thrush is perched there on the back of his hand. He looks at the bird for a moment, smiles, and the bird flies off into the forest, just ahead of the party.
Once the party reaches the forest, Uarach tries to find a relatively safe location before setting about constructing a shelter.
"Before we build something, we should take a look around to see if something already exists. Given the...appearance of that storm, I don't know if a simply lean-to will hold."
As you trek through the woods in search of a safe haven, you can all see it.
The spire poking through the treetops reveals itself to be attached to a small church-like structure, a simple rectangular building with a large steeple on its solitary tower. Everything else around it is reminiscent of shattered glass: entire buildings fragmented as if they were sliced apart, lacking most of the debris that would normally be associated with a destroyed village.
The air nearby is deathly quiet. Not a single bird or bug dares to make a sound in this eerily well-preserved landscape of precise, calculated devastation, and the church looms over the melancholy ruins, somehow untouched and pristine amidst its ravaged surroundings.
You stand about fifty feet away from the nearest remnants of a building, possibly a house of some kind.
What do you do?
"Well", Thurmoud says, scratching his chin. "That does look ominous at all."
The dwarven warrior unhooks his waraxe from his belt, and begins to cautiously approach the fragmented town outskirts.
Uarach gets low, creeping along with a predator's grace, all the while scanning the area for any hidden threats.
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"I've heard of this, it's one of those newfangled art pieces some wizards are doing nowadays." Tel says jokingly. Suddenly somber he continues, "I think you have the right idea with readying your axe. Once we confirm the area is safe though, this will make a good shelter from the storm."
As he speaks, he nervously shifts back and forth, and calls his familiar back to perch on his shoulder. He pulls out a flask of acid and holds it in one hand as his other hand twists into the first motion of an arcane spell. The tattoos on his arm seem to almost squirm, as if trying to break free of his skin. He slowly advances towards the first building, as quietly as he he can.
Your approach toward the first building gives you a good look inside, the walls split open like a fractured eggshell to expose the yolk of its messy interior.
Rough, modest furnishings lay askew in every direction inside, and various personal effects ranging from clothes to children's toys litter the ground. A pair of squirrels seem to have taken up residence in the now-exposed attic, and they peer at you from the rafters, not contributing any noises of their own in accordance with nature's eerie reverence for the place.
Judging from the spilled bowls of food and worn utensils by your feet, the residents were in the middle of a meal... their last one on Existence. No other traces of them remain.
Watching Thurmond heft his weapon made Zenebe wonder at how they'd gauge hostilities here. It's an odd place, and if there are other startled, displaced people, is leveling a weapon at them on sight the best thing to do? Then again, stoutfolk were a difficult people, taking advice seldom and with much grudging.
Instead, he took after Tellian - but corrected his assumption. "If the area is safe."
Upon entering the structure, something haunted Zenebe about the place. An aura of unease perhaps set by the surreal nature of how ... unforced the departure of denizens appeared. He looked to the food left behind, hefted some pieces, tossing them in a trail non-threateningly for the squirrels.
"Let's see if our furry friends are in fright of what occurred."
Taking note of the disarray of the house and its lack of inhabitants, Tel assumes that the same thing that happened to the army affected the people here.
He raises his eyebrow at Zenebe playing with the squirrels and turns towards the church. As the only building intact it would be the obvious choice for weathering a storm. He makes his way there, quietly, to respect the eerie still of this place.
Tel wanders over to the church, which all of you can clearly make out from your places in the house. It's situated in what would have been the center of the village, and its simple stone facade is decorated with surprisingly intricate relief carvings of an armored deity above a host of knights and priests.
The church is constructed from sturdy stone, but even with that taken into account, it should have been ripped apart with the rest of the village based on what you've seen.
Tel looks at the carving for a minute, but isn't exactly versed in such things.
He proceeds to try to open the door of the church after a rudimentary examination of the drawings.
Seeing the little altruan attempt to open the church door, Thurmoud walks over help. "Let me give you a hand."
While the pair tried their hand at the door, Zenebe took his time appreciating the details of the building. If the wildlife isn't spooked, whatever happened must not be permeating this place yet. What happened here though? Is it the same as what happened to us?
Uarach walks toward the door, hanging back about ten feet.
Deepshadow hadn't really been paying attention to what was happening in front of the group: instead, his focus was on the storm that was, as he saw it, stalking them.
When the group found, Deepshadow chose to keep an eye on the storm while they investigated the place. As the storm approached, he turned and hustled into the broken village, noting the damage but being less concerned.
Seeing Tellian enter the church, Deepshadow ran that way, shouting "The storm's getting close, we should all get inside!" He then dove into the entrance.
As Tel and Thurmoud push their ways inside, Deepshadow streaks past the rest of the party and dive-rolls into the church's interior. Luckily, he avoids whacking his little altruan head on one of the roughshod pews arranged in the center.
The interior of the church is cozy and cool, its stone construction and the shade from the nearby trees keeping away the worst of the midday heat. There's only one room, which you all currently occupy, and at the back beneath a lovingly-crafted glass window, a small altar occupies a stone dais, surrounded by the sad remains of candles that have long since melted away.
Unlike the rest of the village, this building is in pristine condition, completely at odds with the wreckage to be seen outside.
The dwarf smiles broadly when he sees the symbol of Atrunor on the door. "Rest your fears tonight, gentlemen", Thurmoud grins. "We are in good hands."
The dwarven scion walks with reverence up to the small altar. He lays his dwarven waraxe on the altar, kneels before it and bows deeply.
Zenebe gave Thurmoud a moment of silence for his prayer as he contemplated the meanings of the markings. Maybe they have some special protection magic that would keep this place unscathed. It could be the clergy have some emergency ritual to perform. But why not here if that's the case?
After the warrior finished, Zenebe sought to guage the group's take on the situation. "It looks like this church might be the last bastion of unfettered civilization in this area. I will concentrate and see if I can detect any sorcery, but barring that, it could be the work of Atrunor himself that kept it from being sundered like the rest of the town. Deepshadow is right about the storm, but after that, I'd like to survey the area, see just how everything was destroyed." Yet as the words left his mouth, Zenebe had a hunch he would not be any wiser be inspecting the ruins. What could cleave through a whole town's buildings?
After a brief pause, he nudged the survivors. "If you have any other ideas, let's hear them."
After hearing the party out , Zenebe invoked a basic - though potent - divniation. Detec Magic sprang to life, looking for anything of note in the area - or on the persons of his newly-met comrades.
Once complete, he decided to find the largest containers he could to fill with water. "I'll get us a drink."