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A shadow Across Veen

A shadow Across Veen

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A warlord marches from the east, to conquer the free lands of the west. Unsheathe the sword, string the bow, sharpen the spear, grind the axe, polish the armor, it's time for war!

811 readers have visited A shadow Across Veen since Irish Wolf created it.

Introduction

A shadow hangs over the world of Veen, a gathering of smoke from the smothering remains of fallen castles, burning fields and the pyres of the dead. Upon the great continent of Aveven, a host is marching. The warlord, Buroaw Blackiron is bent on conquest, not just of a single kingdom but of all kingdoms. His dark banner will fly over every inch of the world or he will see every land burned to ashes. A vast murder of crows circles about his army, hoping to fed off of the carnage of battle.

The human, elven and dwarven kingdoms of the eat have fallen before Blackiron, their populations put to the sword or turned into slaves, worked half to death to feed the warlord’s army or to keep the flow of new weapons moving. The goblins tribes have been cowed into service or destroyed. The proud giants have been slain or forced to their knees. The dragons are dead or driven off, refusing to serve any ‘lesser’ beings. The villages, roaming bands and settlements of other, less common or lesser-known beings have been conquered.

The only thing keeping Blackiron from the rich and fertile west, have been the Teeth Mountains. The only passes he might march his army through are guarded by massive fortifications, which are nearly impossible to besiege. Those passes in the north are death traps, choked with ice, snow, feral humanoids and monsters. However, the mightily warlord has found a way through, the long forgotten underground trade road of the abandoned Dwarven realm Kamrorim.

As the host marched through the dark trade road, to engage the human nation of Delall, Buroaw dispatched small bands over the Teeth, using passes controlled by mountain clansmen, whose loyalty he bought with steel. These raiders have been ordered to harass the kingdoms of the south by burning villages, destroying crops and taking the common folk as slaves. He has charged the captains of his raiders to enlist those bandits, mercenaries and any others they can convince to join his forces. This is all in effort to keep his new enemies from presenting a united front, not that Blackiron fears them but his conquest of the world will go much smoother taking it piece by piece.

Alright folks, if your still with me, I bet your thinking this is the part where I tell you that we’ll be playing the local heroes who cut down the raiders and then travel north to vanquish the evil Warlord Blackiron. Well your wrong. This game is going to be about the men and women serving as the raider captains in service to Blackiron. We’ll be doing all sorts of things; murders, pillaging, slave taking, highway robbery, weeding out do-gooder types, ect. I’m going to leave it open ended, that is to say, we all could end up getting killed, survive until the boss comes south or forced to flee to safety. The only real goals our merry band is going to have are to spread chaos and fear, forcing the southern nations to spread their forces out in the countryside.

Now then, on to a bit about Backiron and a few of the more common races of Veen.


Buroaw Blackiron

Everything about this person is cloaked in mystery. He appeared about twenty years ago, in the company of a rather shriveled mage and a small band of warriors. After throwing around plenty of gold, Blackiron had a good size army of mercenaries and used it to take over the kingdom of Risftia. From that conquest, everything started to snowball, armies were crushed before him and he gathered a pile of crowns.

With that said, no one as ever seen Blackiron’s face. He always seems to wear a great suit of black plate, with a full helm decorated with a pair of bull’s horns. Whenever he holds a feast for his officers, he remains in his armor, sitting at the head of the table and watching those he commands. No one knows what race he is either. Some say he’s an elf, other say he’s a human but everyone agrees he’s not a dwarf, as the warlord stands a good seven feet tall. Everyone is sure that Blackiron is male though, from the voice that issues from the helm.

The only ones who might know for sure are his personal slaves but each and every one of them, has had a spell place upon them. If they try to talk about their master to anyone but the mage, Blackiron or their fellow slaves, they end up wracked with pains and frothing green at the mouth, before expiring.

A sampling of Veen’s Races

Elves
If you’ve seen one elf, you seen them all. As a general rule, an elf will be tall, slender, fair of skin and light of hair. Along with this delicate nature, their ears tend to be every long, with the top tapering into a point. If they are not killed or taken with sickness, most elves will live a good six hundred or more years.

Elves are an immensely proud people, believing themselves to be the favorites of the gods. They are quick to anger, over insults (real and imaged) or if touched by someone outside their immediate family and are even quicker to challenge the offender to a duel. As a result, most elven males carry a sword with them at all times. The blades differ from elven nation to nation but tend to be lightweight. Those elves living west of the Teeth prefer swords that are straight and narrow, where those that once lived in the east favor the saber. Elven women are even more prone to quarrel then the men but take their fights out of public view and settle the manner with daggers. Most often, elven women will carry a stiletto or a rondel.

It is written in the annals of elven history, that once there was by a single Elven Empire, which ruled all of Veen. It is recorded that the last Emperor had six sons, a set of sextuplets and when he died, he had not declared an heir. Each one of his sons laid claim to the throne, claiming it as their personal birthright. This of course led to a civil war, as elven lords declared their support to this or that brother. After years of bloody conflict, force of armors could not place even a single brother on the throne and it was agreed that each brother would take his follows and forge a new nation. The buildings of the imperial capital were crated away and used to lay the foundations of six new cities; Dagonnesti, Kagonnesti, Evernesti, Qilannesti, Ryadanesti and Pykonesti.

Only five of these cities survived the test of time, as Pykonesti was destroyed by a hobgoblin army many years ago. Blackiron conquered Evernesti and Ryadanesti ten years ago.

Humans
Where it is said that while elves, dwarves, goblins and even the bestial gnolls were created by the gods in some manner or another, humans were the children of Veen itself. The first humans, called the Dawn Men, appeared shortly after the gods breathed life into the elves. The story goes that the world created them as a counter point to the fae folk. Where the elves were long lived, the Dawn Men led short lives. Where the elves were cultured, the Dawn Men were primitive. Where the elves were quick to anger, the Dawn Men could go their entire lives without losing their tempers.

However, as the creations of the gods grew, claiming more space and learning the arts of war. The Dawn Men were forced to change, learning metal working and other skills to turn them from primitive barbarians into hundred of civilizations, They also had to become more violent, as peaceful settlement after peaceful settlement was razed to the ground. Their teachers in all of these things were the dwarves, whom were little more then accidents themselves and felt a kinship with the godless humans. Both races relied on one another for an age or more but with the shattering of the Dwarven kingdom of Kamrorim, the constant changing of human nations and the rather short generational memories of the humans, the two races drifted apart, although dwarven clans will honor bargains struck by the forefathers of the oldest human kingdoms and tribes.

Currently humanity is broken into many groups, ranging from the proud Plainsmen of the Sea of Grass, to the noble Silver Knights, the mighty Northmen, the dark islanders in the southern sea and to the barbaric Mountain Clansmen.

Dwarves
When the world was still young, Reaxe, the god of metalwork, challenged all of his brothers to a wrestling match. During this contest, he was thrown down upon the Teeth Mountains and the jagged peaks cut open his back. The god’s blood seeped into the stone until one large drop merged with a lump of gold, which was roughly the shape of a squat man. The lump of gold spring to life, becoming the first dwarf, Dagr Goldbeard. He lived for some time, locked away in a small underground cavern, until he fashioned a pick of stone and began to tunnel his way out. As the first dwarf dug, he came across other drops of god blood and shaped them in his own image, creating the seven Thanes and their clans. As the years passed, the dwarves crafted a mightily realm under the mountains, which they named Kamrorim and added more clans to the kingdom.

One day, they broke through the mountain’s skin and were nearly blinded by the sun. It was a few years later that they met the Dawn Men and chose to teach them the secrets of working metal and t he ways of battle, which the dwarves had perfected from conflicts with the goblins. A few centuries later, they craved the great trade road, which connected the humans to their kin on the eastern half of Aveven. However, within a dwarf’s lifetime (which can last near eight hundred years) of the road’s finish, their great kingdom had plunged into civil war.

You see, the last of the Goldbeard line had taken no wife and had no heirs and had passed on to the hall of ancestors. Each of the seven great thanes laid claim to the empty seat of the king and sent their warriors to claim it. War raged in the underdark, as the clans clashed. After many decades and a good percentage of the dwarven population getting killed, the small folk abandoned Kamrorim, believing that their ancestors cursed the place. To this day, no dwarf will pass over, under or through the Teeth Mountains. If they have a need to travel to the other side of Aveven, they take a ship. As the dwarves drifted apart, they found new mountains and set about craving out new homes. Most of these were the work of a few clans banding together and electing one king from the gathered thanes.

Most dwarves reach a height around four and a half feet tall and are very heavily built. Hair color ranges from black to brown to red (no dwarf, save the Goldbeards, as every had blond hair) and is grown long, often braided. Dwarf men grow long beards, which they take great pride in, often taking hours to comb, oil and braid their facial hair. Dwarf women are said to be jealous of the men’s beards and grow their hair to come around their faces and braid it to appear as if they have beards. This has lead to most races believing that there are no dwarf women. Most dwarven warriors fight with axes and warhammers but those dwarf lasses, whom take to fighting, arm themselves with short, broad bladed swords and lightweight throwing hammers.

Goblins
Goblins are a race of short humanoids, standing no more then four feet all and having pale greenish/gray skin. They lack hair, save for the off, one in seven goblin male that can grew a slight beard of coarse black hair. Their eyes are small, normally green or yellow. Each goblin prizes their mouthful of fangs above all else and will spend hours sharpening their teeth. They tend to have a small, underfed looking frames but are strong. For the most part, goblins don’t make clothing but wear scraps of cloth and leather to cover themselves. As a rule, goblins are cruel but lazy beings, delighting in the pain of their victims and working their captives to death.

The goblins were once a race of large maggot or grub, which lived underground until the god of greed, Geaya, changed them into humanoids. He set his new creations to mining gold, silver and gems from the roots of the mountains. It was through this task, they the goblins came into conflicted with the dwarves. Geaya was forced to call upon his brother, Nomog, one of the gods of war, to teach his creations of weapons and their use.

Hobgoblins
Hobgoblins are an offshoot of the goblins, created by Nomog. The god found that most goblins were too wild to correctly understand his lesions about warfare and was infuriated by it. Double-crossing his bother, he stole away several tribes and hid them away in the deep forests of the world. Over the years, he increased their height to match some of the tribes of men at five feet. He changed their skin from gray-green to an ugly mix of orange and brown. They grew more hair, oily and thin. They clothed themselves in leather and iron. Cruel they remained but no longer lazy, as their god turned them into an industrious and organized race.

Nomog told to his minions, through his clerics, that he meant for them to conquer their lesser kin, then the dwarves, men and elves. To this purpose, hobgoblins often raise mighty armies and march to war with great eagerness, often enjoying much success until the leaders of the army start infighting.

Gnolls
Gnolls are a primitive race of humanoids, which could be described as spotted hyenas walking on their hind legs. A gnoll can grow over seven feet in height and are covered in a reddish-tawny fur with black spots, which is shorter around the face and hands. They tend to not wear clothing, only scraps of armor they might have collected over the years. There is little sexual dimorphism is gnolls, as the female genitals resembles the males. The only real difference is the females tend to be larger and have a pair of small breasts.

Gnolls are nomads, traveling in clans led by an alpha female. They are most commonly found traveling the Sea of Grass but conflicts between the clans and with the Plainsmen have driven some gnoll bands out into the rest of Aveven. Most of their weapons are stolen, made from bone or made from stone. If a clan should defeat men, elves, or any of the other races, they will feast upon the dead.

According to Gnoll oral tradition, they were created by Tlangtui, the god of the hunt, to serve as her personal avatars.

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The night was moonless and the stars were hidden behind a veil of clouds, heavy with the promise of rain. An ill wind blew out of the east, climbing up and over the jagged peaks of the Teeth Mountains and howling down into the dales and glens among the foothills. Flocks of dark birds gathered in the trees about the little villages and struggling towns, as the goodly folk, both men and elves looked towards the looming mountains with fear. The exposed bones of the world had long been their only defense against the warlord who ruled in the east but the omens were poor of late.

Hidden among the trees, at the edge of Cillinas, a small village, was a band of black hearted rogues. They were dressed in skins from bear, boar and deer or in coarse wool. They clenched weapons in their hands, a few rust pitted swords, axes of iron or stone, a handful of bows and spears, some tipped and some simple sharpened staffs. They were Moon Blades, one of the poor but barbaric clans from up in the Teeth. Normally they would never come down this far, so there were lords with many knights and armsmen, who would ride out to crush the clansmen but they feared them no longer.

Three months ago, Buroaw Blackiron, the complete ruler of the east, contacted the chief of the Moon Blades, a giant man called Raygar and a deal was struck. If the clansmen would allow some of the warlord’s forces to cross their mountains and carry a great raid across the rich lowlands, he would pay them with fine steel, slaves, exotic foods and declare them the rules of all the Teeth. It was an offer too good to pass up.

Still, Raygar was eager to get started. He had order his men to enlisted a few other clans, by kidnapping their woman and children, then holding them in return for the cooperation of their menfolk. It wasn’t like this was an uncommon practice among the clansmen. It was really the only way the constantly quarreling outlaws to work together. He had set a number of them in the mountain passes, to act as guides and to give him early warning of the approach of Blackiron’s men. Word had reached him a few days ago, that a number of warbands were passing over the mountains and that they should reach the first villages of the lowlanders by the coming morning. Well, he wasn’t going to let them get the loot from the first villages.

“We ready” grunted the fat chief, as he stroked the side of his massive warboar.

“Yeah Boss” hissed a nearby man-shaped shadow.

Yellow teeth gleamed in the darkness, as Raygar smiled and pulled himself into the rope and leather contraption that served as the boar’s saddle. His left hand grasped a tuff of stiff bristles, so that he could remain upright on top of the boar, as the sausage fingers on his right hand wrapped around the haft of his black steel axe. The boar stamped it’s hooves and let out a squeal.

As the village’s night watchmen woke, nearly three hundred Moon Blades raced out of the trees, screaming warcries and brandishing weapons. The village was awake in a moment, as they had been concerned of late, the men stumbling out of their homes clutching wood axes, pitchforks, rakes and the odd bow. A band of the farmers, led by an old gray beard, whom might have served in a militia, tried to gather in the middle of the village, to repel the invaders.

They might have been able to make a decent defense, if it were not for the archers among the Moon Blades, who put a dozen or more men to the ground or for the boar-riding chieftain. Raygar smashed into the ranks of villagers, swinging his new axe with one hand, taking the head off of at least three men and hacking limps. The boat slashed about with it’s tusks, ripping open stomachs and crushing men beneath it’s hooves. About the pair, the clansmen felled other villagers, somewhere slain, others taken captive. After the short fight, scrams of terror echoed into the night, as the raiders stormed into houses, taking pleasure from the women and older girls, slaying the elderly and stealing everything they could. Flames rose in the night, as houses were put to the torch.

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Quietly running through the darkness, using the moonlight as their guiding light, a small group of Gnolls quickly made their way through the Teeth Mountains. Led by the largest of all the hyena-like creatures, Ark'al turned and looked back at the other Gnolls he had been charged with command over. Only a couple were battle-worthy, and even less had actually seen combat. Most were slaves who had been malnourished and set free as long as they pledged their allegiance to Blackiron. Many carried the crude and damaged weapons that Ark'al himself had been given when he first began serving under the Blackiron banner. While Gnolls judged each other according to size, there were still very few races that came close to measuring up to the size of a Gnoll, even a smaller one who had been in slavery their entire life. However, even a dwarf with a little skill with an axe could take down a seven foot tall Gnoll who was armed with nothing more than a rusty short sword.

Ark'al looked away from the group that was considered a war-band and gradually picked up the pace. If he were going to be charged with keeping these poor excuses for Gnolls alive long enough to allow Blackiron to accomplish his campaign, Ark'al would have to use a different battle strategy then he was used to. Running into a village in broad daylight would not be wise, but quietly sneaking in during the cover of nightfall was. This would both allow Ark'al's band to prove worthy without losing half of their numbers to villagers with pitchforks and they would gain the upper hand on the other war-bands since they were probably already camped somewhere in the mountains.

"Ark'al." one of the Gnolls said from the following pack. Ark'al stopped and turned around quite ferociously. Most of the small Gnolls flinched, but the one who spoke, one who had seen war before, didn't move. Instead, he simply pointed towards the night sky, over a small mountain. Behind the mountain there was a soft flickering golden glow. Ark'al growled and gripped the hilt of his battle-axe tightly. Angrily, he barked at the group, turned, and began sprinting with all of his might towards the glow. It seemed as if another war-band had the same idea to get an early start on the raids. Ark'al knew that they were not going to make it to the village before daybreak, but he was going to try.

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The sun rose in the east, over the mountains cloaked in shadow and mist. The light shown down, through the drifting smoke from the burned out ruins of Cillinas and bathed the sad scene. Only a handful of buildings still stood, housing piles of loot and sleeping clansmen. With the brutish men were a number of the village women, those young to be attractive. Outside in the pens, along with the cattle and sheep, where a number of the villagers, mostly children, a handful of men, whom had either been club or begged for mercy.

Bodies littered the ground outside, left out for the scavengers, whom merely waited for the raiders to depart. Most were men, laying where they fell during the night but scattered among them were the elders of the village. A number of the clansmen wandered about or found comfortable spots in trees or the rooftops of the remaining buildings, having drawn the unlucky lot to stand guard over their celebrating companions.

“Why we got ta do this” whined Elkin, a scrawny bowman, to his brother, as they walked the edge of the wood, “No one got away, ta warn the other villages and any comin here wont be warriors. We should have gotten some ah da beer and ah few women for da night.”

“Shuddup” growled Lug, the older and larger of the brothers, carrying a wood axe he had claimed from the village and a large stone hammer, “We’re not watchin for more villagers, we’re watchin for them fellows come ta join us.”

“And why we doin that” asked the younger brother.

“So they don’t take our loot and women.”

“Only you got loot and neither ah us got women.”

“Shaddup, da boss makes sure all ah us gets loot and women. Just wait until he wakes up and has a few drinks.”

So the banter went back and forth, as the bothers walked around the former village. It was always like this. Elkin always complained, now matter how much loot he got from a raid or when they did robbery. Lug would finally get tired of it and slap him around a little. It had been like this since they were young. Of course they were watching the woods around the village.

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A clap of metal against rock scattered throughout the air in the mountains as a orchestra of armored toes and heels smacked against the rugged and bumpy earth that paraded the mountain sides, claps and clanks of legs moving and steel tapping against one another both amplified by the echoing effect one gets when in such a daunting environment. The wind brushed against the ears of each the men that where marching down the mountain side, each letting out a heavy blow of air as they swallowed as much oxygen as they could when lifting up a rather thick and fat metal bar that was protruding towards two of the fellows marching, each with their backs hunched forward and their necks arched up in a semi-fashion, not baring enough strength to look up as normal when dragging their bodies and the tip of those poles too. There was a good number of men, in all honesty, one could guess forty in total and most where walking up straight but in a tired fashion, those that where arch was simply four and each of them where behind and ahead of a large, horseless carriage embedded on top of two large long, previously mentioned metal bars, having the workers the rider employed carry his compartment rather than simply attaching horses and giving the box wheels. The men where all moderately well armored, each having a pair of small, circle shoulder plates that reached to their biceps while being given a chest amour, the stomachs open however and as where their legs apart fro their crotches, feet and knees, all the infantry wore a set of steel covered gloves while being given a helmet that reach only to their noses. The helmet, gloves and general amour each had a form of circles on them, each of the kneepads at least having a coin engrave into the middle, although only one kneepad had this, the other was spiked for attacks. The numerous armors where smooth but wielded many bumps and marks from the demonic design they had on their chests, the etched image being of a demonic being with coins for eyes, wrapping his teeth around a small set of jewels, them marking was un-coloured and simply left as a symbol on the chest pieces of the troops while their heads where gifted with a number of swirling lines and foreign tongue ,each being different as if customized by the wearer personally. Below the armour, they all wore a simple, plain white Jump suit although some wore cloaks too to match due to the possiblity of cold and rain.

The various marking where a good symbol, even the demon was a being of great joy in Edrin's homeland, but he was pretty far from home now. As each of these troopers clambered onwards before a loud and dusty tone bellowed from the window of the wooden box, sounding strongly deep due to the accent of the Memic and the sheer sense of aggressive nobility he held in his voice "Stop!" each of the men quickly ceased the choir of stomps they emitted, some carrying on for a moment before noticing the others and following suite as they all peered at the wooden box. The mist and air each smashed against the narrow path ways walls and jagged ribs, generating a loud, natural whistle from the elements while causing also the sound of patting from the various troopers cloaks and jump suits flapping by the push of the wind, creating a personal but subtle entrance song for the leader of the Cavcareto, Sir Edrin Bullmic who's hand had just begun to push the oak door forth, generating a bit of a squeak from the un-oiled hitches. The darkness from within shadowed over the robed figure, the only thing visible a wrinkled and vainy old hand that shivered just slightly as it was forced to push a bit of weight, his palm had a smooth but worn out affect to it, his hand looked as if they spent years in strain by the sheer tension his fingers had, perhaps too many hours lifting and counting coins over and over, or writing documents for hours on end but it matter really not such a reason as a man like Bullmic needed not any hands to get things done, Slowly a small shoe appeared, laced in various designs from well-known taylors at the bottom, each having a rune of some sort masterfully stitched while the shoe was no simple, like a soft slipper that covered just past his heel while being a chestnut brown, the same shoe however was soon expelled from as the old man from within the box got onto the ground, covering his entire body with his robe now when not stretching out his legs. So stood Sir Bullmic, as soon as he go out his pale skin seemed to fit well with the colour scheme of the cruel and grey rocky sides in the mountains, his veins burning brightly here when spotten due to the lack of shades to distract one from them, that short but well endowed beard slowly fluttered weakly before being left alone by the wind. Edrin brushy eyebrows lifted, reaching up in a somewhat surprised expression while his lips and cheeks remained long, as if he was to be curious of something but none the less keeping his frigid composure while slowly turning his ribs from side to side to peek at the area. Edrin after taking a swift breath of air to catch the scent of these new lands simply noded with a meager bow to his men carrying the box, each of them putting it down with a loud wooden "clank" before slowly walking into the formation with the rest of his servants. Bullmic let his tongue smack against his bottom lip for a moment before simply saying in a simple and casual old tone "We leave transport here. It would send a bad image...bad image, is never good for business..I walk from here. Give those men water and food..nobody make them carry supplies..they earn break.." Despite the somewhat crabbiness of his voice it did get a tad more soft as he let the men who onced carry him rest, each of them immediately being given a drink as they waited around for a couple of minutes, allowing his troops to catch a breath and bite some bread before starting to shuffle forth down the mountains at a slow pace, they where over the worst and was soon to be at the desired destination, so naturally an aging and un-fit man like Edrin would need only a small hand at best to get to the location as it was mostly down hill from there.

Half an hour past and the sounds of solders feet smashing against the grass would enter peoples ears, or at least the people that still lived as the Merchant and his men started to to come into view of the minions standing guard for the moonblade clans. Sir Edrin was quick and a good number of troops for some reason only stood at the twilight of the entrance to the village grounds, all of them staring at the thugs and killers while four fully armored solders walked with Edrin to the two. These troops all had perfect posture, even after walking so long they seemed un-hindered, two where at least six foot five and the two others where five foot ten and six foot, although they where made even taller by the fat, chunky and weighted full body knights equipment they where wearing. One wielded a spear, another a two handed axe while two had swords at their sides, each of these men made thunderous steps and armies of tats and tings when walking with Edrin, stopping as the leader halted before what would seem to be the guards of the area "Good morning, Gentlemen" He bellowed out in a very refined but happy tone, his normally long face smirking up in a snobby but friendly grin as he twirled his head to gaze at the destruction once wreaked onto the village before turning his orbs back to the two "I need to talk to you're leader, now. Tell him that time is limited" He retained his good tune but he was quick and swift in a slightly less gracious matter, as if he just snapped onto the possibility of having to talk to the two thugs in any way and stopped it before it could happen.

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Lug looked over at Elkin, as they both lowered their weapons. Both felt an uneasy about this. Not only did the boss have a great dislike about being awoken but the man who had ordered them to go get him, well he looked more like a man they would have waylaid in the mountains then fought besides. Wasn’t Blackiron sending warriors to join them? Admittedly, those following the fellow looked plenty warlike and they looked a great deal like the warriors that sometimes chased the clansmen into the Teeth but why would they be led by some money counter?

“You go get him” said the older brother.

“Why I got ta go” whined the younger.

“Cause I said so” growled Lug, giving his smaller brother a shove.

Elkin knew for a fact that he wasn’t able to force his older brother into do anything and they he’d only end up with a few extra bruises if he didn’t go. With a resigned sigh, the bowman ran back into the village of Cillinas and didn’t stop until he reached the house of the former village headman. Slipping inside, he wove his way through a maze of sleeping men, in various stages of undress and beaten women, mostly curled up in a fetal position. It was in the last room of the house, where he found the chief.

Raygar was sprawled out in the middle of a bed designed to hold a whole family. Laying near his massive body were three of the village women, ranging in age from seventeen to twenty-three. They looked less abused then the others the bowman had seen, with only one of them looking like she had been hit and that looked like it had only been done once. Of course he couldn’t seen the mass of bruises on her back or the dark spot of blood under her hair, from when she had hit the wall, after the chieftain had struck her once, as a warning to the others.

“Chief” Elkin half whispered from the doorway, hoping that was all he needed to do. The fat man didn’t even stir from his slumber. The small man tried again and again, taking a step into the bedroom each time. Finally he was standing at the edge of the bed, near a just about empty cast of dark ale. Screwing up his courage, the archer walked around the bed, so that he was on level with the boss’s shoulder. Reaching out, he shook the big man and called out his title.

Before Elkin could take a step back, Raygar’s ham-like hand shot up and wrapped around the bowman’s neck. As bloodshot, piggish brown eyes opened, the clansman was lifted up into the air, as he clawed at the hand, which had cut off his air. Slowly, the big man rose from the bed, listening to the choking of his follower, as the three women fled to the corners of the room. With a careless flick of his wrist, the Moon Blade chieftain flung the wretch across the room and strolled over to the cask, lifting the small barrel to his large mouth to finish off the ale.

“What” the fat man finally growled, as he threw the empty ale barrel out into the hallway.

“Chief” wheezed Elkin, struggling to his feet, “There’s someone here ta see you. He’s got some fighters and said that time was….time was….short or somethin.”

"Did he" said Raygar, picking up his vest and throwing the boar-hide and iron ring garment about his chest, before pointing at the youngest woman in the room, “Get me pants wench! And me belt! And me boots!”

A few minutes later, a fully dressed Moon Blade chieftain emerged from the house, blinking in pain from the light. Before the big man had taken more then half a dozen steps, his boar appeared from a half collapsed barn, hay clinging to it’s bristles and trotted to it’s master’s side. Together, they walked to where Lug stood watching the strangers. All around the village, clansmen stood in knots, weapons out and ready.

“So whos you then?” half-bellowed Raygar, planting his hands on his massive hips.

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Edrin beard seemed to flutter for a single second as a breeze from the mountain tops swirled its way down to the village and dance around his head, perking up his ears as the wind sent a chill through his lopes and brushed the very ends of his hairs before rustling that trickle of hair on his chin, al the time emitting an ambient breathing effect to the are around him before dying away and leaving his his facial hair be. The knights, each wielding red armor gleamed as the sun poked out and from the clouds that the smoke had emitted from the previously done wreck, making the tints on them shine up slightly as metal often does when meeting with light, although the light had a dramatic affect, it revealed a number of almost miniature lines in their protection when shining up, each laid out in a manner that could only be depicted as a dragon, perhaps a demon, the phyzor had two large eyes that frowned etched around them and the mouth piece which protruded out slightly quickly seemed to have shining, hard fangs mark into them, the rest was runes that pattern down their torso and arms along with scale like skin impressions, although these same drawings vanished as the sun was quick to leave when hiding behind the cloud, making these same lines become barely viewable once more. As it is an alertive nature of warriors, each of the knights started to latched their hands onto their weapons, the gripping of knuckles could be heard as they prepared for the worst but still retained the military perfect posture as they inspected the warriors ahead. Sir Bulmic although faced with a good number of possible ways to die, even when with his elite guard, he managed to keep his composure entirely, his shoulders remained at the level that they was which was respectively high but the aging process and long nights sitting down in desk meant he had a very vague hunch too, so his spine was not utterly straight nether. His hands remained open, not clenched or tighten in anticipation of danger or a battle although his tongue did leave his mouth for a moment to swallow some air before letting his glowing, stone crafted eye twirl to the approaching Chieftain. That orb, the stone one although definitely had a sense of magic about it posed no real sense of atmosphere, it's live like movements and swift observation did not aid the creation of the supernatural arts into making it seem life like, it was fake but it was not fake because of any fault of its own, it was just a feeling, it had no soul, it did not carry a single detail in its person unlike that of a normal eye which a simple stare could reveal so much. The other eye, however, that black pearl, the vague reflection in it that popped up every few seconds, told a great deal, it was like an beasts eye, no iris lurked in there but the simple fact that the black was so smooth yet clear could make one feel you was staring into the abyss, and the abyss was staring back at you. Bulmic allowed the master of the clan to stop before making any movements of his own, awaiting the moment his feet stop their tread, although the appearance of a massive boar definitely made Edrin twirl his head to it's direction, the knight all had a much more intrigued reaction each slowly sliding their heels back as if ready to jump back or maybe even push themselves forward for a stronger attack, of course a simple strike with the normal amount of power thrown in could never slay such a marvelous beast so it only made logical sense, it also made logical sense that the sudden subtle rise of breath beneath their helmets was sign of a hint of fear.

Edrin lips did not move at first as they only pursed slightly as the boar got closer and closer before slowly twisting into a big grin, a friendly and perfected smile that lifted up upon his long and daunting aged cheeks that he had and as this smile was plastered onto his face a voice soon rattled out of his throat to accommodate the pleasant grin, sounding heavy in accent due to his origins but soft in a sense and slightly caring although not overly" Good day, Chieftain. I am Sir Edrin Bulmic.You're employer sent me to take care of business and help direct things here. " a moment pasted of silence before Edrin very patiently twisted his neck, revealing a good number of his seasoned veins as he inspected all the troops the Chieftain had under his command before turning that black ball of shades back to the boar tamer "I can tell that by simply looking at you, Chieftain that you are a man who desires things to be straight forward and no pestered by petty ideals, so I will spare you the patronizing niceties I would give anyone else, I need to talk to you in private about a transaction taking place here..."Despite the abruptness of it all ,the tone he used was slightly harder but one of moderate respect, it would be the way the man talks to another when rushed for time and his tone delivered both, he no longer had that fake merchant "thank you, come again" sort of tune and feeling delivered in his voice was more of importance which in and of it self was sign that the Merchant and had some faith of the chieftains emotional capabilities.

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Veen by Irish Wolf

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View All » Add Character » 8 Characters to follow in this universe

Character Portrait: Raygar son of Slaggar
Character Portrait: Sorsina the Enchantress
Character Portrait: Ark'al
Character Portrait: Sir Edrin Bullmic

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Character Portrait: Sir Edrin Bullmic
Sir Edrin Bullmic

Morons wait for oppurtinities, smart people make them.

Character Portrait: Ark'al
Ark'al

A barbaric Gnoll filled with a hateful rage and a knack for violence.

Character Portrait: Sorsina the Enchantress
Sorsina the Enchantress

A darkly seductive enchantress with a killer instinct for self preservation.

Character Portrait: Raygar son of Slaggar
Raygar son of Slaggar

Mountain Clansman chief and follower of the warlord Blackiron

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Character Portrait: Raygar son of Slaggar
Raygar son of Slaggar

Mountain Clansman chief and follower of the warlord Blackiron

Character Portrait: Ark'al
Ark'al

A barbaric Gnoll filled with a hateful rage and a knack for violence.

Character Portrait: Sorsina the Enchantress
Sorsina the Enchantress

A darkly seductive enchantress with a killer instinct for self preservation.

Character Portrait: Sir Edrin Bullmic
Sir Edrin Bullmic

Morons wait for oppurtinities, smart people make them.

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Character Portrait: Sir Edrin Bullmic
Sir Edrin Bullmic

Morons wait for oppurtinities, smart people make them.

Character Portrait: Raygar son of Slaggar
Raygar son of Slaggar

Mountain Clansman chief and follower of the warlord Blackiron

Character Portrait: Sorsina the Enchantress
Sorsina the Enchantress

A darkly seductive enchantress with a killer instinct for self preservation.

Character Portrait: Ark'al
Ark'al

A barbaric Gnoll filled with a hateful rage and a knack for violence.


Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » A shadow Across Veen: Out of Character

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Most recent OOC posts in A shadow Across Veen

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

I just got word that my Gnoll character is going to undergo a character change... I've kind of been waiting on word for that. I'm editing my character and my first post and then I'll get back into it. This will not die.

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

So...is this dying already?

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Just wanted to let you know that I posted. In the defense of the other Role Players, Irish Wolf, by my character walking up and engaging with you first, I have taken away perhaps the most direct form of entering the RP.

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

I'm gonna break out the sharp poking sticks

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Um, sorry about this, but I suspect I'll have to hold off from joining this time. Real life has come back to haunt me and vacation is basically over. Truly apologize, have fun and good luck!

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Oi, where are the rest of you lot?

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

No. He's going to strike a deal-try to-to allow him to kill a number of men-most likely his weakest-then he will stage that a fight took place at the village but his men arrived on a buisiness trip to the major kingdom-or the other villages, whatever-he will come off as as saviour and a very rich man-which of course, kingdoms like as they fill the pockets of the economy-This will put him in a good light, then he will renovate the destroyed village and make a deal of raygar to sacrefice two more of his men as a scouting group and tell them to draw up the defense of a specific village that Bulmic will make large desposite of gold in. making the kingdom beleive the clan are going to raid it for bulmic's stock-the village will most likely be vary far to one side of region. After this, they will also beleive bulmic's men will protect the roads and pathways from the mountain, making them feel the other villages are more safe, drawing troops from them to protect the town his decoy scouts sent..then..bulmic will simply allow Raygar around his own city-his guards will pretend not to see them-and bulmic will give aid by dressing up his men as the moonclan, they strike the city that Bulmic know had weakenend their defense in pulling for more solders for other areas due to his links and recent scam to depict him as a freind of the region..and bam...they will mess up a number of villages in days, way before they can send back up from their mounted positons...after this..he'll renovate the areas, taxing the people to povety and regulary letting the moonblade in for small raids, Bullmic become a lord by owning several small towns and Raygar gets the most pretty girls and a handful of gold-which they will stage as stealing, although he really placing it in certain towns that they agree upon-to keep the knigdom in fear and think they'll need Bulmic's Cavcareto when they just and are still under attack from the clans. Granted ,there still be various other kingdoms that he can't touch, but it will definitely slow things down..not massively but respectively things will change in the more rural and poorer areas.

He's a very cunning and very evil, imagine too that they will recruit troops more quickly from poor areas in the second generation-so expect alot of teen privates-but all the old/middle aged men and husbands will be too busy working for medicine and food to even think of leaving for war, especially their daughters/sons and wives to the cavcareto who get pretty nasty to theifs and law breakers.

Oh. by the way, this isn't a daily process, the beginning part will take perhpas a day or two but the rest will likely happen out in span of weeks as their a lot of buying, legalities and sneaking about, along with stragetically placing men and items-like the staged gold theifts-Oh, yea. He won't try and expalin this all to Raygar in one go, he'll do it in seperate phases.

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

What, he gonna try to swindle Raygar on the worth of the slaves he captured?

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Irish Wolf wrote:Sir Edrin Bullmic is approved Statement, although, the boss's name is Blackiron, not Darkiron. Feel free to post!


Thank you Irish Wolf, I tried to make Edrin interesting like Aviosa while putting up boundries, I am not entirely sure if I am succesful, he does have an actual back story of how he became evil but I left that to be found out by character interaction if anyone gets close enough to him...I can't believe I got somthing as basic as the root character name wrong..how embarrasing.

I may post tonight or not, I'm lacking sleep and I am pretty much lifting weights right now.

Posted, time to put Edrin's Cunning evil into motion. *Evil smirk*

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Sir Edrin Bullmic is approved Statement, although, the boss's name is Blackiron, not Darkiron. Feel free to post!

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

I love Dragonlance, its the series that got me into fantasy, although the movie was highly disappointing.

Anyways, I would welcome a hobgoblin character!

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Someone recognizes him, YAYYYYY!
I did an rp with Aliath once upon a time, based my little kender character on him. Sigh, I love Tas.
Anyways, do I absolutely have to go human? Or can I go hobgoblin that Blackiron employed?

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Of course, if only because your avatar is Tasslehoff Burrfoot, my favorite kender.

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

May I join? I just couldn't help but notice a fantasy rp with all -evil- characters! :D I definitely need some practice with baddies.

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Swamped with school, making 10 hour days blargh. Will write something up tonight or tomorrow, promise!

EDIT: In retrospect, I still can't find a good place to jump in. My character could observe the gnolls or the village, but she would not take action of any kind. I'll wait till the magic user shows up and maybe act as somewhat of a bodyguard - I imagine magicians are pretty rare in this setting.

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Oi, the rest of you lot, shake the lead out!

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

I understand and appreciate the compliment, if you do make a RP that you would like the Aviosa to join in the future don't be afraid to contact me. I would love to use those two as a boss, especially with Bitter more powerful and free.

I'll try and think of a more fitting character for this Role Play, I may or may not try and submit it today though. Thank you for taking the time to evaluate my character.

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Yes, it was a compliment.

Now then, I love Bitter Sweet and they would be interesting to have around but I am going to say no. The two of them really fit the final boss mold and thats not who I'm trying to collect.

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Thank you for the compliment, Irish Wolf....it was a compliment right?

It dosen't matter, I'll take it as a compliment none the less as an interesting character was my aim. Bitter and Sweet are both totally capable of being defeated but not killed, they are not mortal however they take a longer time to re-enter the world due to their weakenend state without a summoner-up to several life times in fact-

Bitter and Sweet are both also highly crippled power wise by their former battle with blark Iron, the case with bitter is that he was like a ADHD pyschopathic madman doing hardcore drugs while on a killing spree, that is his source of power, death, gore and violent mental illness, pretty scary, huh?

Ok, now take that same pyscho hardcore drug user and lock him up, numb his body and put him in a straight jacket while regularly giving him ritolin, not so powerful anymore. Bitter was also reduced, with half his heart missing and his true form bound in magical locks, his sluggish compared to his olderself, calm and not in tact with his own powers this also means he takes hit a lot harder because he can't warp reality around his body which allows him to take massive damage without dying.

He's deneied his warping powers and can't just go bezerk in his true form, Bitter in fact is already defeated in a sense, although he can't die, most people will look at his magical locks and go "Ah, he can't die, but we can seal him, banish him or lock him for all eternity" so, it like a warrior trying to go back into battle with a massive wound in his heart, he moves as if he's in some kind of ball room dance, slow and dull along with his weakness being for show.

Vemma, however is capable of pretty much being a stand alone fighter, even with her powers massively reduced, she can't direct attacks, herself or other people, she's like a bomb, just place her somewhere and watch her hit everything. She's powerful still but un-reliable and thus Bitter is normally in control, she may kill her enemy, soshe has to be a one on one fighter, to keep her focused on one fighter, otherwise she'll properly hit half her allies-especially female competetion-, the enemie and then herself. Bitter although very, very weak compared to his past self could still give any mortal a good run for his money

To put it frankly, this is a new bitter, the true, the real bitter is stuck inside those locks he wears.

Additional: I understand if you reject my character because he dosen't fit or because he seems much mroe geared towards a boss role with how weird he/ she is.

Re: [OOC] A shadow Across Veen

Statement, you got my head spinning bro. It could be the fact that's late and I just got back from work but Aviosa-Fematon(Bitter) Vemma (Sweet), is one of the craziest character's I've ever had the pleasure of reading a profile for. I'm going to wait until I get some sleep before approving the character but I would like to know how defeatable Bitter Sweet is, as we're not mooks but we're not playing as major bosses either.