Tomi Heikkinen's page

*cough*

*intones the unholy words of thread necromancy*

Hey all. Remember this particular Rotrl campaign journal? One we actually finished?

As I boldly promised all those months ago, when our campaign ended and I finished writing the journal-turned-600 page novel, I really did write that damn second book - a continuation story of our gloomy protagonist, your favorite hooded and masked killer going by the names of Alpharius and Cael Greymarsh.

I'm going to start posting chapters every week in the same blog that I used to publish the journal, so if you remember this story, liked it and would like to read a thrilling fantasy story of vengeance, betrayal, and self-discovery, you might want to check this one out!

Great to hear you found it! Yeah, with mobile you have to scroll around the site to find the button. I'll probably upgrade my wordpress account to get some more freedom to design the blog...

Sorry if I'm missing something really obvious, but I didn't see what links on the blog you wanted me to click (none of them said Follow, unless my phone is doing something weird with the pages).

Hmmh, it might be that the mobile version of the website isn't showing the Follow button. It is visible though in the desktop version, above the chapter listing. Thanks for telling me about it, I'll need to fix that somehow!

EDIT: I've disabled the mobile version for now - not the best option really but it has to do until I've updated (and upgraded) the site..

Got all the way through, and then had to go back through and Fave your posts. And definitely angle for your novel to become a Pathfinder Tale!

Got to put in a congratulations to the writers of Rise of the Runelords (and its Anniversary Edition), too -- the two best Campaign Journals I have found so far are both in this AP. (Actually found another good one for Wrath of the Righteous, but I'l tell you, that AP must be cursed, because not only did that campaign journal die shortly into the campaign, but the great majority of the PbPs of that campaign that I have followed also died early deaths.)

Ah thanks UnArcaneElection, very much appreciated!

I'm thinking of just writing the damn thing (I'm already 20 000 words in wooooo), commissioning an epic cover picture, slapping Paizo and Pathfinder logos on it and publishing it as a free ebook. At least, that's what's allowed in the Paizo Community Use Policy.

Guys and gals and other lovelies, you UnArcaneElection included, you might want to consider becoming a beta reader of the novel. Just click the Follow link the blog and drop your email so I'll now who to share the WIP with.. ;)

Phew. 65 chapters, over 324 000 words. 22 months of writing. Now the story is officially over...

65. EPILOGUE: LOOSE ENDS OF OUR PAST

... or is it?

All you handful of readers who've gone through the entire story, I SALUTE YOU. Big time. It's been an honor and I hope you've enjoyed reading my stuff. But a question: does the story of Cael and Belon merit a continuation?

I've been planning to write an independent novel about the brothers. A dream of mine would of course to have it as one of the Pathfinder Tales, but I know they don't consider amateurs' or "aspiring authors'" stories - one needs have published something elsewhere before that. But if I'd write it just for the sake of it, and maybe to the enjoyment of handful of readers. What do you think?

A preview, the first chapter of the novel with the working title Vengeance: Road to Damnation

That was one damn well written thrill ride! Certainly some of your best written moments of "band of brothers" and "avengers" :)

_o/ yay! But don't forget your big contribution as the GM.. the final twist with Karzoug's plane coming down after his death was, AFAIK, your own idea and it doubled the thrill value of the chapter :).

Funny thing about the Mark of Wrath - we didn't play it out like I wrote it, but I remembered Alice having it when I wrote, and I had to include it. It was.. appropriate that Cael ended up having it. And from a game mechanical perspective, it actually would have happened exactly like that.

Was the rewriting of "the origin" planned all the way from chapter 1? Now that it was sort of closing the circle, I felt more engaged with it than some of the more slapped on flashbacks ;)

About the origin story, yes and no. Originally I injected the origin story to flesh out the character to the reader, but it also was about exploring Cael and who he was - why he did what he did. It was me the writer telling me the player who Cael was, and what I needed to take into account when roleplaying him. I understand the critique that some of the "flashbacks" felt forced, but nothing was written without a purpose. Granted, I did some experimenting with what was the best way to do the flashbacks - I guess I used at least 4 different methods. So there was some inconsistency there.

How the origin story "caught up" with the actual story was not pre-planned, but I knew what the main parts of the origin story were quite early, so it was simple to include it. And there was luck involved of course, how the game/story panned out perfectly and how it happened to mirror the ideas I had about Cael's (and Belon's) origins. History tends to repeat itself and it was so with Cael in many occasions.

Oh that guy is dead already.

Thank god.. :D

Oh, THANKS! I'm still way back on number 50 or 51. Ah, well, winter is coming and all that. Need something to curl up with on those frigid 10-degree Celsius nights we get here in arctic California.

*breaks out the whip* read, read damn you!

And please, 10-degrees Celsius. In Finland, we call that early May.

Wow, all the way to the end. Looking forward to the epilogue!

Thanks! I'll read it through a couple of times and post it soon enough.. and there's a surprise included :)

It is the end of the line for our heroic and anti-heroic adventurers. This one's a bit longer, but it is so for a reason.

I've already written an epilogue so I'll post that soon too, but first, here's the last chapter of our adventure. Enjoy.

“This is it, then”, Alfred whispered, his eyes on our foe.

“Suspicious that he seems to be alone”, I muttered and heard Dûath growl in agreement.
“He will have his traps and tricks prepared”, Saffron commented to me.
“It has been an honour”, the cleric of Iomedae told us, his voice steel, and unsheathed his golden god-touched longsword before kissing its blade.
“The honour’s ours”, answered the magus and smiled faintly as she put her hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.
Only my brother remained silent, but he watched at the runelord intently and clenched his jaws. If I knew my brother at all, he was thinking about how to make Karzoug pay for enslaving him.

64. WHEN IT ALL FALLS DOWN

Oh boy do I enjoy reading these more and more as time goes by. I honestly don't recall any of the chapter 63 events (doesn't mean it didn't happen), but the best part is that I don't care as I can relax and read your work of it. Tear baiting at the end was very kind of you too. Let's hope rest of the guys read it too :)

It might be because for once, the GM had very little to say and the PCs took initiative and did the talking.. :)

I guess you just waited someone to say HEUREKA, GREATER RESTORATION!

Regarding chapter 62, as I was saying yesterday, the pacing was good but re-reading I still didn't feel the tension that I hoped to find. Honestly thou, I recall the throne room being bit of a waltz for you guys, so maybe that was more of me bothered with how easy I made it rather than your writing.

True. For example Alpharius did really kill the first storm giant in one volley (first manyshot, haste shot (critted), 2nd short, third shot, all hits, good damage rolls). AC 36? Psssh. Combining all the bane, dex, hunter's headband, big game hunter, haste, heroism, favored enemy etc. modifiers I had a base modifier of +33 to hit with the first arrow. Plus the Clustered Shots feat, which made things even more ridiculous. Against favored enemies (evil outsiders, humans, giants) things got a bit silly at the end.

Oh yeah, and we *all* had dominating runeforged weapons..

And *cough*oopsIforgotMachariushadamajorcloakofdisplacement*cough*
To others: In reality the fight with mind-controlled Macharius was not as tough. Basicly it was him trying to hit AC 40+ something Alfred, who kept asking me "Can I hit him back? Can I hit him back now? How about now? Just a little?" Until Macharius managed to strike a few big wounds, after which Alfred lost his temper and full-attacked the poor man once too many.

Now time to write some action again!

"Hit me baby one more time!"

A chapter where not a single die was rolled. But ah sometimes you don't need one to play a beautiful game..

On the floor, Macharius moaned once and went completely limp, like he had given everything up and waited for death to carry him away. His mouth lolled open, and he was pale as linen, covered in sweat. I stood up, releasing him from my hold, and he didn’t even notice it.

And I could not do a thing but watch him suffer. Since the day I lost my mother and was enslaved, I had not felt as helpless.

63. STRONGEST BONDS CANNOT BE BROKEN

The end is nigh...

Crap, was supposed to write irritaTING instead of irritaBLE but you got my point. Welcome back, looking forward to regular postings :)

Caught up with the new posts, Poldaran. Your text has a great flow, as usual. And Aurora's even more likeable, and Kyle even more irritable with his explicit and implicit bragging and smugness :)

At the Pinnacle of Avarice, a long search comes to an end.

PS. Nice twist you suggested to Riding Bull, NobodysHome & co.

“Kill everyone but my brother.”

62. CHELLAN

Three more..

Note: when we reached the peak of Mhar-Massif we engaged a mountain roper but the poor thing fumbled twice and died horribly. It was so non-epic so its contribution to the story was cut ;)

Hour or so later, we were hiding behind a pile of massive stone tiles, observing a rune giant give orders to two storm giants. All of them were armed, so it looked like a patrol or sorts instead of a work crew. "They're on their own", I noted, taking in the surroundings, and shook my magic wand of gravity bow to a desired effect. Alice cast runes of magic into the air, powering herself, while Harsk prayed and Alfred drank a potion. He began to grow in size as I turned to regard the others. "You know we're going to fight a forty feet tall monster with twenty feet tall underlings, armed with swords bigger than us?"
"Yup", Alfred said eagerly and groaned as his skin turned into metal. I shrugged.
Saffron teleported us next to them and we engaged.

61. RINGS OF THE SIHEDRON

Four more chapters to come, friends...

The time we almost skipped half of an AP chapter. Lvl 15 and going against Karzoug? Pssssh.

“Maybe they can help us?” Alice suggested. “It could be a trap”, I countered, and she rolled her eyes at me. “I don’t think so, Master Alpharius”, Saffron interjected. “They don’t seem threatening.”
“Famous last words”, I muttered mainly to myself, and my panther growled and hissed. At least he understood.

60. SKULKING IN THE SHADOWS OF GIANTS

Enjoy and comment!

forbiddance? Oopsies.

Occlusion Field :(

I'm making your catching up more difficult ;)

A new chapter is up. In our search for Xin-Shalast we fumble and fall, rise up, only to.. succeed? Fail?

“What is that”, Alice asked, her brow furrowing. My panther was sniffing the air. “A.. a seal?” Alfred suggested. “No, it’s an otter”, I realized. I held my hand. Surely an otter would not pose us any danger? The thick-furred little animal jumped into the strange waters, only to re-emerge to sight and onto a closer slab of rock and ice only forty strides away. It was looking at us intently, curiously even. There was a hint of intelligence in its eyes. Malign or friendly, I could not tell. I wasn’t really keen on finding out.

59. CROSSING THE BOUNDARY

Enjoy and comment :)

Thanks Turin the Mad!

The story continues as the party looks for ways to find Xin-Shalast. Alpharius has one key in his hands, but is he willing to use it..?

Enjoy!

“Master Harsk”, Saffron addressed the god-touched, “how about your deity? Would Iomedae be willing to assist us?”

The cleric cleared his throat, and began to say something, but he stopped short. Seconds later, I heard his voice in my head.
It is time for you to come clean, friend. Your brother might be the key to finding Karzoug. Harsk was messaging me, like he had during the raid against Sandpoint, linking our minds for the span of two thoughts. I knew I could respond to him.

No.

Even as I formed the short answer, I began to see the sense of Harsk’s proposal. I cursed him for it. But he was right – my brother could be a beacon for us to follow. I turned from the window to face the others. Were they worthy of my trust? I had fought with them for a while, but could I share my deepest shame and weakness with them?

58. MY BROTHER THE BUTCHER

Comments are most welcome :)!

Summer break is over and the sixth book begins with some downtime.. but it allowed me to move Alpharius' own agenda forward. Some nice RP ensued. NobodysHome should enjoy this as the idea he gave to GM Riding Bull begins to unravel..

Why would he be there? It can’t be. At the heart of evil. Sitting on a golden throne in the empire of greed, unbound, unguarded. Dark thoughts began to materialize, even darker possibilities. Potential answers to the question why. I refused to believe any of them. He is a prisoner, and I will save him. Or I would bring him back to the fold. He was still my blood. I chose to wear that resoluteness like an armor. Or else I’d go mad.

I should’ve been distressed, but I remembered something, and let out a laugh. Harsk looked at me, puzzled. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing”, I replied, still smiling. I had just wasted at least six hundred gold sails. I didn’t give a damn.

57. DISCERNED LOCATIONS

And thus we bring the fifth book of the AP to a close...

“I’d be interested in the wing of Greed”, Alice interjected, missing the irony, “if only to gain more insight into the powers of Karzoug, and what he can throw at us.” She tried to appear the reasonable woman in the middle. Alfred guffawed. “Now that I can approve.” I frowned at Alice, then turned my attention over to the god-touched. He had not said a word, and was still examining the blade of Flametongue, scowling at the tiny runes of Pride and Lust that had been burned to it.

“What do you have to say, Harsk”, I asked him gruffly. His eyes never left the blade. “We might as well start with bringing the wrath of my goddess to his subjects here.”

56. SIMPLE AVARICE

Then, towards Xin-Shalast!

PS. Ordikon was a wimp.

Sort of a toss-up but my vote goes to Naraya.

+ Girl power!
+ She isn't just a peon following orders

Bah, you and Riding Bull exchanged notes!

Thanks to a certain reader's constructive critique, I've slightly adjusted Ranok's story.

And because I can't edit the original post, I posted them in a new blog dedicated to this journal.

You can find Ranok's story here, and Naraya's here.

NARAYA

Her body collapsed onto the mat, knees and palms first. Sweat trickled down on it like gentle rain. She was barely able to breathe, so out of breath she was. She just wanted to lie there for a while.

"Your performance today has been adequate", a woman's voice droned without emotion behind her.

The comment was surprisingly positive, but Naraya was too tired to say anything in response. All her effort was aimed at getting air in and out of her lungs and stopping her pounding heart from bursting out of her chest. She pushed me hard today, a rational part of her mind, not interfered by the ache of her limbs, observed. Thinking straight while half-dead by fatigue, that's something she had taught me, she replied to herself.

She rolled over, fought up to a sitting position despite the pain in her abdomen. The effort made her almost vomit. She must have been a sight, pale as a ghost, covered in a sheen of sweat, she thought as she brushed her face, trying to clear her eyes. Her appearance was of no concern to her teacher however. Mylesh Kardova, known as the Daughter of Sixth Rebirth, a monk of Irori, looked upon her with her impassionate eyes. They were not cold, but they were not warm either. They were assessing her movement, analysing her decisions, judging her performance.

"Thank you", Naraya wheezed, and it made her mentor's head tip to the side. She had thanked her after every practice for the past six years, and this time was no different. Sometimes it was a heartfelt expression of gratitude for the honor of being her only pupil. Sometimes it was laced with venom, an angry defiance for the physical pain and mental humiliation she made her endure. Today she thanked her for her approval, for it was seldom given.

The Great Circus of Restov with its rows and rows of seats stood empty around them. Naraya gazed up, and traced the straight lines of cream and red that crossed the pavilion's canvased ceiling. She felt her heart's pace decrease. Was it the last time she'd cast her eyes up there? The realization of the possibility stung her.

"The decision is made tomorrow. This might be my last day here", she said, finally able to mouth words clearly.

There was the slightest frown on the face of the Daughter of Sixth Rebirth. "Why do you think we trained so hard today then? Get up," she commanded, and wearily Naraya got to her feet. When she did, she lowered her head to a slight bow. A single droplet of sweat rolled down her nose and onto the mat.

Her mentor, a small woman in her fourties, wearing simple white robes, crossed her arms across her chest. "You still lack discipline. Your mind wanders."

Here we go again, Naraya groaned inwardly. She remembered all too well what she had said the first time she had practiced with her. You can never become a monk of Irori, she had deemed. When you put yourself to it, you can be disciplined, but your soul can never be so at ease to achieve the level of control required by my Order. She was expecting another lecture, another earful of how unprepared she was, how young, how inexperienced.

"I've travelled Golarion widely, and witnessed people as they walked their own roads. The world is a dangerous place, full of distractions, pettiness, slaughter. Some lose their step and stumble, while others persevere and reach whatever destination they've chosen." Kardova sighed, and went on. "The road you've chosen is not for a monk. A monk's destination is somewhere within herself, in her soul, but you're a woman of world. Your destination is on the outside." Naraya dared to raise her chin as she was spoken to, and for the first time, she saw something resembling warmth and true caring in her mentor's expression. "What you have learned from me will help you keep safe. But to keep yourself on your path, you must learn focus."

Naraya stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the older, shorter woman, embracing her tightly. "Thank you, for every day, for every lesson", she whispered, holding back tears. Her mentor was taken aback, but after a while, her hands found their way around her pupil in an awkward hug.

**

The brass plaque on the door said Midwinter. Naraya knocked on the door gently and waited. She heard hurried, shuffling steps within, and after a moment, the door croaked open.

"Hello, Anne", Naraya greeted the old maid, whose lined face widened to a warm smile. "Nyra, baby girl", she said in happy surprise, "come in."
She helped herself inside and went to follow the maid. "Your mother is upstairs, in the library", she told the her, guessing her reason for the visit. "I'll find my way", Naraya replied and turned towards a straight staircase leading up. "I'd imagine, this was once your home after all", the old maid said and laughed. "And you better not leave without saying goodbye to old Anne!" She called to her back but Naraya had already ascended the stairs.

Naraya found her mother in the library, sitting in a comfortable leather chair, reading an old book, facing the spring sun that shot its cold rays through the windows.

"Hello, Mother", Naraya offered the greeting as she stepped in to the spacious room, two opposite walls covered in books, and third sporting a great painted portrait and nothing else. In it was a handsome, stately man with a proud face and a mapcase and a book in the nook of his arm. Hi Dad, Naraya greeted the man in her mind. Her mother, the famous artist and sculptor, had painted the picture, and she had captured him perfectly.

"Naraya darling", her mother replied and lowered the book unto her lap. She flashed a smile, but it was dry, like a field that had not seen water in ages. Her husband's death had taken the rains with it.

"I wanted to come and say my farewells, in case I'm chosen tomorrow and can't come back to say it afterwards", Naraya began, feeling tired already. Her mother had not taken it well when she had informed her of her decision to apply into the expedition to the Stolen Lands. I've lost Edwin already, I can't lose you too, she had begged her. But Naraya had made her father a promise at his death-bed.

If they finally decide to retake the Stolen Lands, be there when it happens. His last words to her. He had been such a patriot, dutiful till the end. He had talked about the Stolen Lands for years, but the Swordlords had not listened. It was ironic how their heads had turned after their advisor's death. The great Edwin Midwinter was not there to witness his plans unfold.

Her mother looked gloomy and her shoulders sagged. "I've dreaded the day", she said. "Is there any way you could still reconsider? You're not a warrior. The wilderness is not for you", she pleaded. Naraya felt an inkling of irritation, nearly boiling over into anger, but just shook her head. "I made a promise to Dad to help make his dream come true, and I intend to keep my word." Her mother wasn't letting up. "How about Kardova?" The name was bitter in her mouth - perhaps she was still envious of her influence over her little daughter. Naraya just laughed emptily. "She's not concerned about my desires." Some of the emptiness was filled by the warm recent memory. "But she has given me her support any way."

Her mother had one more straw to cling to. "How about that brute, are you still seeing him?" Naraya regretted she had ever told her anything about Ranok. "What about him?" She spat, visibly irritated now. It was dubious how she was now using him as a means to keep her in Restov, even though she had vocally criticized Naraya ever since she had heard of him. There are so many nicer men of nobility in Restov, she had told her daughter. What, pompous and obnoxious Aldori swordsmen whose only interests were dueling, drinking and whoring? Naraya had replied. At least Ranok is respectful, and he has an honest soul. He's twice the man than any of the fools Mother had in mind.

"Doesn't he have any say? Is he just letting you go?" Her mother demanded. Naraya sighed heavily. Ranok was a good man, but he had no place in her future. Not especially since the dice of the fates had landed the way they had. "Mother, he too is among the few competing for the place in the expedition. He does not have a say. It's either him or me who is going, and the other one is staying."

Her mother just snorted. "Well for Abadar's sake I hope it is him who is going." So you could have two problems solved at the same time, Naraya thought angrily and bit her lip to keep from exploding. The talks with her mother had recently always come to this.

She pivoted on the balls of her feet and went to the door. "I came to say goodbye, so goodbye it is, Mother", she hissed over her shoulder. Her mother opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead she reached with her hand, a tear in her eye. But Naraya did not see it. Her gaze was in the portrait as she walked out.

You'd be proud of me, Dad, Naraya whispered to herself, her fingers brushing gently along the wooden, gold-covered frame as she passed and left.

RANOK

Not now.

It was a familiar feeling, all too familiar. The molten spike piercing his brains from the neck, the pain so complete it made his eyes water, and his vision go red. Ranok clutched the sides of his cot with all his considerable strength, and ground his teeth together. Blood began to flow where his canines bit into his own cheeks.

Your mind is a sword in the making. Temper the steel. Temper your mind.

The mantra was all he could focus on. His mouth forced itself open, to bellow a soundless cry. He fought back and all that came out was a groan and some spittle. His breath followed in short, rapid gasps. The pain itself was joined by the hunger - the desire to make war. Ranok snarled, gripped the sides of his simple cot even harder. Temper the steel. Temper your mind. Temper the steel. Temper your mind.

The urge to lash out, to search something to kill, was clouding his sanity like an approaching storm front. He closed his eyes, drove them shut and shook his head violently. Tears fell down his aching cheeks, onto the old sheets. No. No. I am Unbroken. I am Unbroken.
Tiny beads of sweat were appearing across his face. His cot was trembling beneath him, shifted by the spasms of his muscled body. Ranok let out another snarl. The Red Fever came strong this time. He willed himself to ignore the burning pain in his head, and focused instead on the struggle in his soul. He fought back the red storm, crackling with bolts of fire, all-consuming, that would see him rage and kill and maim, if only he would surrender himself to it.

Temper the steel. He focused on the words, saw them as glinting mountains of silver against the backdrop of the raging clouds. Mountains high enough to bar even the mightiest storm and turn aside its fiercest winds.

The red fever howled without words that made any sense, in the voice of his father, but Ranok's focus held.

Temper your mind. The imagined the clang of the forges, a hammer hitting a red-hot blade, to drown the howling with its steady, relentless rhythm.

Then, as soon as it had come, the clouds of blood and fire dissipated, and the urge to commit horrible violence retreated. For now, the mountain range had held. But Ranok knew the Fever would return, like it always did. It was a part of him, something that made him who he was.

"I am Unbroken", he whispered to the empty cell, and began to breath slowly, in and out, to calm his body as he had been trained. The flicker of the torches cast dancing shadows on the ceiling above him and was reflected in the sweat covering Ranok's weary face. He embraced the serenity, wrapped it around him like a cloak of furs during winter.

The sudden slam on the door behind him made him flinch.

"It is time, Silvereye", a man called out, the voice muffled by the thick, sturdy door. Ranok waited just a while, willing his heart to stop its galloping. There was another slam on the cell door. "I am ready", Ranok groaned the reply, sat up and pushed his feet over the side of the cot and onto the cold stone floor. After putting on his boots he rose and went to pick up his greatsword. The master-wrought relic was standing against the wall next to the door, waiting like a loyal servant. He deftly lifted it and slid it over his back into its sheath, something he had done a thousand times. "Don't want to keep the Cap'n waiting, aye?" The man said, beyond the door. Ranok closed his eyes, and exhaled through his nose. No I don't, he thought to himself, unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"Gods, I thought you were having a wank", Cold Matheson smiled at him as Ranok made his way out of his cell. He just grumbled in response and shouldered his way past him.

"Irori forbid you'd find a sense of humour in the Stolen Lands", Cold yelled after him as Ranok paced away along a dark corridor. "And by the way, big boy, you're bleeding from your mouth, might want to clean that up!"

**

Every seat around the semi-circular council table was occupied as Ranok entered the The Officer's Hall. He felt all eyes on him, but did not lift his own to meet them. Instead, he walked the along the rug before the table and stopped two strides short of it. Keeping his eyes to the floor, his brought his fist to his forehead first and then down to his chest, above her heart, before letting it drop to the side.

"I am Unbroken", he said in salutation and lifted his gaze. Captain Hazell was sitting at the center, beaming his fatherly smile at him. To his right was First Lieutenant Scoles, scowling, like he always did when he was forced to address Ranok. He had disliked the young fighter from the day he had been admitted to the Company. To the Captain's left was the Warpriest, Erinosian, his face unreadable. They were flanked by all four of rest of the Company's Lieutenants. Ranok disregarded them, kept his eyes level to the back of the hall.

"Ranok Silvereye", the Captain began and rubbed the brown-grey of his bearded chin, "are you ready for tomorrow?"
Ranok cleared his throat. "Yes sir. I've made all the necessary preparations."

Captain Hazell nodded approvingly. "Good! I hear Lord Surtova and his council of Swordlords have all but decided the members of the expedition. The fifth member is unselected, and it seems the decision is made between you and one Naraya Midwinter."

The name brought vivid recollections to the eye of Ranok's mind. "Yes sir", he replied coolly, and brushed aside the mixed emotions.

"She's a fine fighter, I hear, quick as a snake, and with a wit to match her skills. Daughter of late Edwin Midwinter, emissary and personal advisor to Lord Surtova himself!" The Captain added.

"I'm aware, sir", Ranok replied, and regretted his words immediately. Across the table, First Lieutenant Scoles raised his other eyebrow. "You know her, Silvereye?"

"I do. Personally, sir." Intimately, he thought, but did not say it, while still remaining honest. He remembered the last time he had seen her, a few days or so ago. There had been no goodbyes, but a sense of finality had hung over them none the less. The First Lieutenant snorted. "Would you say she was better suited for the task than you? Speak truly, boy, so we can spare ourselves the shame of sending you and recommend them to pick her."

"That's enough, First Lieutenant", the Captain cut in, calmly but with every grain of authority he had. "You should realize you are criticizing your commanding officer and his decision."

Scoles turned to the Captain. "Captain, I urge you to reconsider!" He pointed a finger at Ranok. "He is a fearsome, capable warrior, I admit that, but he is mad!" Hazell frowned but did not say anything. "Our credibility, honor and prestige will be tarnished beyond repair if he loses control during the journey! The Swordlords will never again hire the Unbroken for its services if they find out we sent a brother who could turn into frothing madman at any moment!" Scoles kept pleading, red-faced, his voice rising with every word.

"Will you let the Red Fever take you over, half-orc", Warpriest Erinosian asked suddenly. He was staring at Ranok passively, without sympathy nor accusation. "Will you let your cursed blood best your resoluteness?"

Temper the steel. Temper your mind. Ranok remembered the Warpriest's teachings well, every lesson since the day he had joined the Company. Sometimes he felt he was the only one in the Company that truly had to live by them, just to survive, let alone to be allowed to remain in the Company's service. But that's why you joined in the first place, he told himself. Or were allowed in, he corrected himself.

Still, what can I say, Ranok considered, but did not hesitate. "I will not, sir", he replied patiently and was surprised of his own words and their firmness. A trace of satisfaction came and went in Erinosian's expression. "Our Master Irori be your guide and guardian", he said and leaned back in his chair, as if that settled the matter for him. He knew Ranok's darker side well, but he was familiar with his honest, diligent nature. Two of the Lieutenants began to frantically whisper to each other's ears. The First Lieutenant was frowning, and almost baring his teeth.

"So he says", he hissed, but the Captain was not letting him go on.

"How many times has he succumbed to his curse during the missions he has participated in?" The old commander asked his second-in-command. "Sir, he has not that many missions under his belt-"

"How many times?" The Captain's words were cold steel. He was staring the First Lieutenant straight in the eye.

"Not once", Scoles replied, between his teeth, without lowering his gaze, the challenge obvious in his manner.

"Not once", the Captain repeated, and turned to regard Ranok. He looked tired, but stern. "I have absolute trust in your, Silvereye. I see great potential in you, not only in terms of your fighting ability, but also your ability to lead men. You are deeply flawed, yes. It is something you must overcome. But your perseverance against all odds is exemplary. To me, that signifies everything the Unbroken stand for."

The Captain drew breath and regarded his subordinates. "My decision stands. Ranok Silvereye will represent us in the expedition", he stated and turned back to look at Ranok. "If you are chosen."

Ranok closed his eyes and bowed. "You honor me, sir. I will not let you down."

But in his heart, the half-orc warrior was not so certain.

With our RotR campaign finally over, we are starting a new campaign with a new GM. Yours truly is not running the show but has the privilege of being a player.

But I have a dilemma! I've designed two very different characters, and can't decide which one to pick. So I'm turning to you, to help me choose.

By simple voting (one vote per member, the one getting more votes wins), you get to decide which one of my two possible characters I start with. To help you choose, I've written short introductory stories that open up the background and personas of my characters.

I'll be posting the stories momentarily in separate posts, so please have a look and have your say! Who earns the place in the expedition? Who is the character who you'd be more interested in reading about?

This one was a beautiful session full of surprises, twists and turns. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed playing and writing about it!

The last succubus, flying only strides behind, howled in anger and despair when she saw what the holy warrior did to her sister, and dove down like an eagle, now completely heedless of any danger. Harsk, covered in crimson, turned to face the onslaught and held his bloodied, awe-inspiring sword high. That's bravery, rooted in religious fervour. Alfred lives for the thrill, but Harsk.. he has a goddess on her side. "FOR IOMEDAE!" He shouted and struck once, powerfully, unstoppably, the blade swinging in a clean arc. It sung as it connected, and the demon's head came tumbling down, neatly separated from its body. The dwarf spat on the headless corpse for emphasis and muttered a curse under his breath. He really should've become a paladin, I thought, remembering something similar happening ages ago in a farm near Sandpoint.

55. DEADLY DESIRE

You know, sometimes when we play I keep hearing this song play over and over in my head.. (you Brits at least should understand the joke)

funny theme..

Anyways, the story continues! Into the heart of vanity the group ventures..

Enjoy!

“By the goddess I need a beer”, Harsk groaned, lying down on his back, letting wisping, gently flowing energies envelop and caress him. We had emptied healing potion into his torn, blackened throat, and yet again the powers of his deity did the rest. The god-touched was hard to kill, and I was thankful for it, even though I didn’t really think about it then.

“That was a disgrace”, I hissed angrily. “Walking to an ambush like that.” My nerves were taut like a drawn bowstring. “We need a plan. A solid plan.”

“We go back there and kill the casters”, Alfred replied calmly, keeping his eye on the tunnel that led to the wing of Pride. I was dumbstruck. “What? That’s your plan?”

54. VAIN UNTRUTH

Tomi Heikkinen wrote:

Monrail wrote:

Just de-lurking to say that this is a fantastic journal, especially considering that you aren't even a native speaker. Do you have any plans yet which AP you're gonna start next? Kudos!

Thanks Monrail!

Like Riding Bull mentioned, we really don't know yet. Or, the thing we know is that in the next campaign Riding Bull is playing and someone else is DMing ;).

I'd love to build a world for sandboxing, but also there have been some thoughts about trying Dark Heresy from the Warhammer 40k universe. I'd be happy to try GMing in that too given my somewhat extensive understanding of said universe.

Also, here's Alice's gear. The player behind her knows his Photoshop :O :O

Is the donut ring a ring of sustenance by chance? :)

It indeed is :D

EDIT: Also, the updated set of Alpharius (during the quest in the Runeforge) Clicky

God, it brings a smile to my face every time I come back to this page and see a new entry. Keep'em coming Tomi!

Thanks RavenVoron! I'll keep em coming!.. until the campaign ends or something awful happens.. :x

From the Ravenous Crypts, into the Halls of Wrath..

I kicked the aberration in its ugly face, and it stumbled a step back, allowing me a clear line of sight to the center of the training hall.

There, Alice appeared from the cover of invisibility. Standing with her legs wide apart, her free hand extended high up in a fist, she looked like she was holding something heavy from falling on her. Her outline shimmered in colours of orange, red and yellow, as if she was in a skin-fitting cocoon of protective energy. There were half a dozen adepts of wrath around her, and she was alone with them. They turned to her and charged. Crazy woman was all I had the time to think. But I saw her face, and she was smiling.

She opened her hand. Destruction blanketed her and the adepts as the world around her exploded.

53. BLAZING RAGE

Enjoy! And please comment!

Indeed :D. The only Axe he got now was Alfred's..

Though I think Alice is into guys who are more.. alive.

Comment as a player: Alice's mythic ability Flexible Counterspell (Su) is our official Get out of jail Free card. Lich trying to Deafen AND Blind Alpharius? Nope. Lich trying to Finger Alice to Death? Noooope.

Well, the upcoming chapters will be more straightforward and thus nicer to write.. and then a certain witch will enter and make things that much more interesting ;)

When faced with undead, evil horrors, always, always bring a Harsk.

The nightshade pushed one last time, raging against us and the constraints of the portal, and it finally got out. Its fleshy wings spread out to cover the entire portal room. It prepared to embrace us and take us to a night of eternal evil.

Still, a lone, stout source of light stood against it. “NO“, Harsk bellowed and a chain of light crackled from his form, enveloping and binding the undead in an instant. The nightshade tried to force its wings and limbs at us, but the chains held firm, if only momentarily. It howled in despair and anger, and phlegm and Alice’s blood spattered against Alfred. We had only one chance.

52. THE HUNGRY DEAD, UNCOVERED

Yay, we're back yay

OOC comment: Damned Aura of Despair :D

Also: Yay! We didn't kill a potentially hostile NPC!

It's ALIVE!

The Strangers enter the

The wood beneath disappeared and I stared into the eyes of darkest nightmares made real only five feet from me. Instinctively I flinched and began to pull back, but I remembered that it didn’t really see me and kept my palm firmly on the door. It was an enormous, seething perversion half a spider and half a bat. It’s long, chitinous front legs scraped and struck the entryway. Parts of its fleshy, oddly transparent wings had made it out of the portal, but it was stuck, unable to fully come through with the sturdy door and the small space around it confining it. But by gods it was eager. Saliva dripped from its sharp, protruding fangs, but perhaps most horrifying was that no sound issued from its bat skull-like head. It pushed forward, inch by inch, like a newborn coming from a womb, but with cold, murderous determination. It was hungry.

In retrospect throwing the coin into the portal didn’t seem such a good idea.

51. THE HUNGRY DEAD, UNBOUND

Enjoy and please comment!

Just de-lurking to say that this is a fantastic journal, especially considering that you aren't even a native speaker. Do you have any plans yet which AP you're gonna start next? Kudos!

Thanks Monrail!

Like Riding Bull mentioned, we really don't know yet. Or, the thing we know is that in the next campaign Riding Bull is playing and someone else is DMing ;).

I'd love to build a world for sandboxing, but also there have been some thoughts about trying Dark Heresy from the Warhammer 40k universe. I'd be happy to try GMing in that too given my somewhat extensive understanding of said universe.

Also, here's Alice's gear. The player behind her knows his Photoshop :O :O

Tomi Heikkinen wrote:

Got inspired. What do you think of this visual illustration?

What is Alpharius currently wearing & equipped with?

EDIT: And here's the template if you want to use it for your own characters!

LOL. What a fun toy!

Well, I'm immensely enjoying your tale, and I've read about xxx in the obits.

I just run Firefox with Flashblock and NoScript and that site where you post your adventures makes it REALLY hard to mark anything as a favorite without allowing every script under the sun.

Just saying....

Hmm.. so you're saying I should pay for Wordpress to have the ads removed ;) ? Though seriously, I'm not aware of other scripts WP tries to stuff down our throats other than those pesky ads. I've been toying with the idea of getting a premium plan for my blog though.

Got inspired. What do you think of this visual illustration?

What is Alpharius currently wearing & equipped with?

EDIT: And here's the template if you want to use it for your own characters!

The Strangers are back for the 50th chapter of the story! There are scores to be settled and a certain Runeforge to be entered..

A heartbeat later the cavern shook and we heard rumbling of an avalanche in the distance, followed by an angry roar of a legendary white dragon.

“Here we go again”, I sighed and pulled a dragon-bane arrow from my quiver. Harsk bellowed a challenge in the name of his goddess, swearing we would not let the dragon flee with its life for a second time.

50. SECOND TIME'S THE CHARM

Enjoy!

LOL. Don't get me started. My WotR group is still stuck back in what? July? Because life keeps interfering with writing.

I need to become a hermit.

But then I'll have nothing to write about.

*SIGH*

I think I have the time to write.. but I want to see how the run in the runeforge ends before I decide *how* to write it.

I imagine it will be something like

Yeah OOCly we knew from the start that this was a 100% GM created sidequest to put some actual effort in Alice getting the celestial armor rather than her just finding one from the markets.

Of course the spin and how it turned out with Garnet was not expected :) Riding Bull did a beautiful job there.

And yes, writing the 50th chapter will be a challenge. We've been inside Runeforge for four sessions now (including one 12+ hour livesession), and I think it'll take us at least two more to get out...

The story continues as the party takes a breather after facing the white dragon.. but for Alpharius, the journey becomes that much more personal!

Kudos to Riding Bull for delivering easily the most nerve-wrecking session (at least for me as a player and Alpharius as a character), and it wasn't even a fight! Bricks where truly shat that day and I hope I've been able to convey that properly.

Taking it all in, my blood froze like a stream during first chills of winter.

There is a red carpet on the floor, and rubies are sewn to it.

That was how Harsk had described the throne room in which my brother had sat like a bored royal. I pushed past Alfred, each step harder than the last, but I willed myself to the doubledoors and touched them with my palms.

I’m seeing a man, lounging on a extravagantly decorated golden throne.. surrounded by riches, gold, gems, rubies. He is in a throne room. I can’t make out any windows. Gods, I have not seen so rich decoration in my life.

I shivered in a mixture of emotions. Within was a room made of solid gold. The red-gold carpet made a path to the other side, where stood a lone throne. There was someone sitting on the throne but I could not see who.

49. BARRACKS OF XIN

Enjoy!

See? What you NEEDED was a bard who'd completely forgotten ALL of the clues, and instead randomly chose to lead your party to the sleeping dragon.

Some GMs get all the luck! Players following the plot, doing what they're supposed to do, grumble, grumble, grumble...

We're just puppets of our dungeon master :(

Also, Ring of Feather Falling: Best. Purchase. Ever. I never asked Riding Bull whether he remembered Alpharius carrying one when the dragon snatched him and flung him to the pit. Doubly so if he didn't.

Oh and the amount of butthurt and dismay around the table (this was played during a live session) when Alpharius chose NOT to take a final shot at the dragon's back. So much fun. (after the game I calculated around 10-15% chance of actually hitting it as it had cast Displacement on itself and had a ridiculously high AC to boot. Mythic bastard.)

Dragon hunting, yay!

The beast screeched and gained some altitude. It was turning, coming to a dive. “By Cailean, I know that creature”, Alfred gasped as he gazed to the air, “This is the most feared, mythic dragon of all Varisia!”

“And you wanted to have an afternoon adventure to hunt that thing”, I huffed in anger at the sellsword.

48. STRANGE, DANGEROUS PASTIMES

Please enjoy, rate and comment :)

In next week's episode,

After three long weeks of silence, the Strangers are back! Some business is concluded, bridges are repaired and the search for the Runeforge begins.

I could not see Harsk past the huge brutes but the pale-faced magus was between three of the giants, evading, striking but not parrying. Her scimitar crackled with such energies that it looked like she was carrying a spear of lightning. With another ear-splitting, hair-rising crack she slaughtered the first assailant. She allowed the momentum of her movement carry her over the smouldering remains of her first victim and followed by letting loose a bolt of lightning from her free hand at the one I was in the process of gutting to death. It exploded into bits.

“I thought you’d never wake up!” She yelled at me and Alfred between breaths and ducked one swing of a wooden club. Show-off.

47. SILENT WAIT OF THE SEVEN FACES

Please rate and comment. And enjoy :)!

In next week's episode,

Indeed, what happened?

One of my favorites! ..and no, it's not the fever talking :)

Thanks! Raising the bar every chapter..

Why do I have the sudden urge to cackle evilly and maniacally?

There will be no happy ending for Alpharius :(

.. but that's fine cause it makes for better drama

ALPHARIUS + HARSK + GREATER SCRYING = DELICIOUS RP

“For this to work, I need to know as much as possible about your brother”, he started to explain. “In an ideal situation, I would know him personally. That or I’d have a lock of his hair, or at least a picture of him.”

I snorted. “Just look at me, and imagine I have frost blue eyes and silver hair. And no facial scars”, I offered. That made the cleric smile. “That is actually helpful, given that you are twins. Now give me your hands. Tell me more about him.” Again, we locked both our arms together over the mirror like paladin-brothers, and I began to recount facts about my brother. Things about his character. How he thought, how he acted. How he followed Pharasma. How he trained, and how he preferred the greatsword. Harsk took it all in, nodding. Finally, he closed his eyes. “Let us try a connection.”

46. SILVER MIRROR, GOLDEN THRONE

Enjoy and please rate & comment :)

Tomi Heikkinen wrote:

I spun a "Dark Side of the Force" kind of aspect into Alpharius's moment of ascension which Riding Bull did not include originally. I felt it apt to remind that there is another side of the coin when it comes to gaining such power. And I admit that I was inspired by the effects of a certain tunnel to Alpharius in a certain magical place that we are currently exploring in our game...

This also serves as a reminder that while this Journal is based on events of our game, it is in the end filled with sort of fan fiction moments that sometime go against the actual events. I consider this to be fine and this is why somewhere around end of book 2 I stopped correcting Tomi for anything but spelling, allowing him his creative freedom.

In game their Mythic Powers came from old powerful scrolls from (true neutral source) elemental planes (written in Thassilonian), basically turning them into Fantastic Four (with no seen or felt strings attached) when the 4 pages were activated. Llamashtu or wrath had no part in it. So no "other side of coin" is actually supposed to be there as the powers came from true neutral artifacts.

I felt the urge to clear this as it was quit a different feel I got from what I read earlier today compared to how it was played out in game.

But as always, I really enjoyed the write up :)

It might have not been Lamashtu herself.. maybe it was Alpharius's conscience acting up? Maybe he was sub-consciously telling something to himself...? WE MIGHT NEVER KNOW! DUM-DUM-DUMMMMMM!

Seriously, Alpharius loves his darkvision and surprise strikes but this is just a too good chance at character-building I could not let pass :) just what does it mean for our heroes when they realize they truly and irrevocably are more than human? (or dwarf. Or elf.)