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Ruyn: The Winds of Fate

Ruins of Bael-jar

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a part of Ruyn: The Winds of Fate, by Sylwyn.

It is said that herein these ruins, and others across the globe lies the hope and fate of civilization as we know it.

RolePlayGateway holds sovereignty over Ruins of Bael-jar, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

424 readers have been here.

Setting

The ruins are a inside a vast network of largely unexplored caverns and tunnels connected to the Orc caves.
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Ruins of Bael-jar

It is said that herein these ruins, and others across the globe lies the hope and fate of civilization as we know it.

Minimap

Ruins of Bael-jar is a part of Blood Fang Caves.

5 Characters Here

Br'nard Even'star [6] "Last of a dyin' breed!"
Harvest [3]
Siv Drakryttare [3] "Either conquer, or die."
Nostalgic Syndicate [1] Logic is the beginning of wisdom, not the end
General Aloysius [1] A sword is only as good as the man who wields it.

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4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Br'nard Even'star Character Portrait: Harvest Character Portrait: Siv Drakryttare Character Portrait: Eight
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#, as written by Sylwyn
Follow the north tunnels, Harvest's emerald-eyed beauty had told him, her fingers lightly stroking the base of his jaw. Go through the Ruins of Bael-jar. There, you will find a hidden passage into the Stronghold, where I have opened a Gateway for you to retrieve the Arabimitore. Once you reach the Isles, seek out and slay the Champion to unlock its power. Hurry, for once the portal collapses, all within it will be trapped in the Maidar. And, she added, her lips brushing his ear before planting a soft kiss on his temple, you wouldn't want to be left behind...

...

With David close on her heels in avid, mostly one-sided conversation, the Drakryvon warrior maintained a brisk pace, forcing the boy to jog to keep up with her as she caught up with B'rnard.

"I don't get it," David said haltingly between his resounding footfalls along the narrow tunnel. "Why would savage- sorry, barbarians, I mean..."

"Did anyone ever tell you ye talk too much, boy?" Siv riposted, shaking her head and rolling her eyes in Br'nard's direction as if to say, I told you we should have left him.

"Be easy on him, lass," he urged. "He's had a hard way to go, today, and spilling blood ain't everyone's idea of ventin'."

"If he doesna quit flapping his gums, I'll do more than spill-"

"Since when do the Middle Clans come this far east just to get a hand in killing some Orcs?" David blurted out.

Br'nard peered down at the Shield Maiden, arching one brow. The collar of her tunic had slipped down again, hinting at the scar nearly concealed by the fabric. Could it be? The barbarian just shook his head. He had heard whispers on the north winds of a warrior in the south who would rise up to unite the outlying clans under one banner, but if the rumors about awakening the dragon-god were true... He glanced around at the assortment of men, his gaze momentarily coming to rest on the mercenary sporting the wolf mask, and decided against confronting her outright just yet. Too many eyes and ears.

"Lad's got a point.," he told her simply.

"It's none o' yer business, ye'd do well ta stay out of it."

"Mind yer tongue," Br'nard growled, crossing his arms and leaning toward her."Gods be damned before I take orders from a-"

Stopping suddenly in her tracks, Siv narrowed her eyes, locking her stare on the darkness reaching far beyond their line of sight.

"What're ye-"

"Shh!" she hissed, putting a finger to her lips.

About to protest, Br'nard heard in the voicelessness a faint, but intermittent sound, harsh,like the ring of steel on stone, emanating from depths that broke pattern from the steady hum to which his ears had become accustomed. Murmurs cropped up from the men behind him in the tunnel, and he held up a hand to quiet them, cautiously advancing toward the entrance, but the Drakryvon had already crossed the threshold, her torch illuminating and the remnants of sculpted columns reaching high into the cave ceiling. Closing her eyes, Siv ran a hand along the weathered, chiseled walls, her expression calm as her leather glove scraped against the marble facade, exposed fingers gliding along the stonework.

"What is it," Br'nard asked in a low tone, as if his very voice would disrupt that primal, almost symbiotic exchange between host and vassal he knew only the middle clansmen could possibly fathom. He had heard rumors of Drakryvon whose psychometric ability extended to a sort of mind-link between people as well, and the thought of what secrets his mind would yield to the warrior's fingertips, what of her knowledge he might inadvertently uncover... was enough to make him a wee bit apprehensive. "What do ye see?"

Seconds of silence passed between them before she opened her eyes again and met him with that icy gaze.

The shaken intensity therein revealed whatever she had gleaned was beyond even her comprehension when she answered evenly, "There is something down here."

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Br'nard Even'star Character Portrait: Harvest Character Portrait: Siv Drakryttare
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#, as written by Rill
Continuing North down the black tunnels, Br'nard began to note the change in the hew of the rock and the scent in the air, where before the tunnel walls had been roughly cut stone, clearly the work of natural formation and shoddy Goblin tunnelling, now they took on the appearance on crumbling, ancient masonry...

The Barbarian nodded in satisfaction, he was descending into the ruins, drawing ever closer to his goal...

The scent of Demon spawn and their foul rifts in reality struck the senses like rancid meat to the Feral Warrior who had spent a lifetime wreaking a bloody vengance on such creatures...
For it had been the forces of the foul Demon Dimension what had wiped out his Clan all those years ago...

The sound of voices ahead suddenly snapped the Warrior out of his revive, pushing the ghosts of the past aside for now, Br'nard Even'star gripped his axe and advanced towards the speakers...

Rounding the next corner the ruins opened out into a cavern not unlike the one in which they had fought the Orcs and ahead, stood the owners of the voices he had heard.

Br'nard raised an eyebrow as he strode forward, recognising the livery of the Soldiers and Blades-Men the General had tried to order him to lead into these depths earlier, clearly they had gotten ahead of him somehow...
With them stood the Barbarian woman he had encountered above, along with another he did not recognise, her pet boy and... Himself?!

Br'nard sniffed the air once more and gritted his teeth, booted feet scuffing over the stone of the cavern floor as he came to a halt, eyes fixed on the doppelgƤnger.

The Br'nard standing with the group turned at the sound... And locked eyes with himself...

Suddenly, the Br'nard standing beside Siv threw back his head and let out an ear splitting screech of fury, his eyes turned a blazing scarlet and his flesh began to melt and flow like molten wax-
The true Barbarian watched through furrowed brows as the creature morphed before his very eyes into an exact copy of Siv, then of the boy and finally of a Wolf masked stranger Br'nard did not know...

Then it was done, the Shifter snapped back into its true, Demonic form, all scaly black limbs, snapping snout, needle sharp teeth and burning, scarlet eyes!

With another hideous screech, The Shifter flew across the cavern towards Br'nard, claws outstretched and maw snapping!

Standing his ground, The Barbarian countered the spindly creatures mad rush with a solid, gauntleted punch straight to the beasts muzzle, dropping the Demon Spawn to the stone floor in a shreiking tangle of limbs!

Before the unnatural beast could rise, Br'nard bought his axe down with a sickening Crunch, vile black ichor sprayed across the cavern floor in all directions and the Demons screams were stilled for good.

"Shifter."
Br'nard growled simply, stepping over the creatures already disintegrations corpse and nodding to the remaining companions as he passed them.

"Demons do a good imitation of Mortals, but they always leave a tell, ye lot should pay more attention."

Shaking his head and snorting grimly to himself, The Barbarian passed the group and set off down the next tunnel, heading ever deeper into the ruins, black Demons blood still dripping from his axe...

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Br'nard Even'star
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#, as written by Rill
Leaving the band of would-be adventurers voices fading away behind him, Br'nard pushed on deeper into the ruins.
Apparently needing no light or map to guide his way, The Barbarian pressed on and on until eventually the tunnel began to widen out once again.

The cavernous space in which The Warrior now found himself had clearly been a great hall of some description at some point in its past, but now fading mosaics and crumbling pillars were all that remained of its majesty.

As Br'nard's eyes swept the hall, they came to rest upon the large, twisted construction that occupied its centre.

Clearly this was no natural formation, a great, black alter rose from the middle of the chamber, engraved with sinister looking runes;
His brows furrowing, Br'nard approached and glared down at the Demonic construct...

"A pace o' worship..."

He growled to himself, disgusted that anyone would want to pledge allegiance to such vile creatures!

Upon the alter, a small Goblin Imp lay sprawled, its ugly, fanged mouth twisted in silent scream as its guts sprawled across the alter, clearly as part of some hideous, Demonic ritual or other...

"Demons dinnae worship themselves..."

Br'nard grunted, looking about as his hand moved towards his sword hilt...

"This is the work o' Cultists..."

At that moment, a hideous scream went up from the shadows on all sides...!

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Br'nard Even'star
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#, as written by Rill
"Greetings Barbarian!"

Br'nard's broadsword flashed from his scabbard in one smooth motion as, all around, a large number of hooded, cloaked black figures emerged from the surrounding shadows.

The Cultist who had spoken, stepped up behind the alter and looked down at The Barbarian from beneath his cowl, this Demon Worshippers robes were far more ornate than those of his fellows, clearly marking him out as some sort of leader.

"Demon Cultists,"

Br'nard spat, hefting his sword in a firm, two handed grip,

"I lost count of the number o' yer sanctums I've raided over the years."

The cowled leader smiled from beneath his hood.

"Oh how delightfully primitive... We have been waiting for you, Br'nard, the Master draws nearer to our world with each passing day and soon he shall manifest, to destroy the weak and reward the faithful."

Br'nard grinned savagely,

"Oh aye? If yer Demon Lord is stupid enough tae poke his head out into this world, I'll send him screamin' straight back tae the pit... I have an old debt to collect."

The Cult Leader drew a ceremonial dagger from the depths of his robes in one smooth motion as all around, his followers began to produce similar, if less ornate weapons.

"The Pagan days are over,"

The Cultist stated,

"The time of The Barbarian is long past, taken over by the age of progress and civilisation, industry and religion... How many of you old 'Heroes' are even left? You are a relic, Br'nard, the last of an outdated breed... The time of The Demon draws near and all of humanity shall kneel before us.
There are no longer enough of you to stop us, the Human race has grown weak and the few True Warriors left amongst you are down to selling yourselves as Mercenaries and being insulted in common taverns by mere Assassins."

Br'nard slowly rotated his neck and rolled his shoulders in response, preparing his muscles for battle.

"Oh aye there ain't many o' us left, but we ain't yet gone from this world an' while we still live, ye Demons shall 'ave no foothold here... Yer foolish Lord made a mistake, decades ago, when he attacked my village and slew my tribe an' people, I swore to wreak a bloody vengeance upon him an' his kind an' now... Ye tell me he draws near..."

The Cultist Leaders smirk suddenly seemed to fade somewhat in the face of Br'nard's savage grin...

"Ain't dead yet, Cultist, come... See what this 'Dying Breed' has left in it..!"

"Kill Him!!"

The Cult Leader suddenly shrieked as Br'nard surged forward, throwing back his head, The Barbarian let out a loud, bark like laugh, hefting his Broadsword in two large hands as all around, The Cultists began to swarm in...

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Br'nard Even'star
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#, as written by Rill
A savage, two handed sword stroke sent the first of the onrushing Cultists sprawling back in a shower of gore to lay twitching and convulsing on the cavern floor as the Demon Worshippers blade skittered away across the stone.

Turning, Br'nard Even'star dashed aside the blade of a second foe and opened the man's throat before spinning again and bringing the Broadsword straight down on the top of a third Cultists cowled head, the blade bit clean through flesh and bone as if they were nothing, almost cleaving the Worshipper clean in two with a vivid spray of crimson.

This brutal display caused the other attackers to hesitate for a moment, but Br'nard held no such qualms, forging forward, The Barbarian went on the attack, brutally felling anyone standing before him with savage, two handed strokes of his blade as the Cultists began to find out just how poor a weapon and defense daggers and robes are against a honed steel Broadsword..!

Soon the floor of the cavern was slick with bloody and strewn with corpses as the Head Cultist continued to screech taunts at the Barbarian from his vantage point atop the alter...

"Your a relic, Even'star! Surrender and your death shall be swift, defy the Master and he will keep your soul as a plaything for all eternity! The Demon Lord will be not be denied his tribute, already he has claimed the souls of your entire people and yo..!!"

The Head Cultists voice faltered for the first time as Br'nard ripped his blade from the body of his final foe and turned, covered in gore and streaked with sweat, to face the alter...

Eyes like twin chips of burning ice fixed themselves upon the Cult Leader as Br'nard pulled back his lips in a snarl, revealing shockingly long, sharp canines...

The Cultist began to back away hurriedly as The Barbarian strode forward, throwing up a hand, the Worshipper began to chant a hurried incantation, his fingers sprawled and pointing at Br'nard...

The blade flashed.
A hideous shriek rang through the cavern as the Cult Leaders severed hand slapped wetly off the stone floor, the man wrenched back his outstretched arm, hugging the now bloodied stump of his wrist tight to his chest as he collapsed to his knees, sobbing as blood stained his robes.

His face devoid of mercy, Br'nard stepped forward and kicked the kneeling Cultists flat on his back, before placing a boot on the stricken Worshippers throat and pressing down hard.

"I ain't dead yet,"
Br'nard told the feebly struggling, choking man pinned under his boot.
"An' I ain't about tae die if it means leavin' the world tae the likes of ye an' yer Demon Masters."

The Cultists eyes began to roll back in his head and his desperate struggles became more frantic as The Barbarian pressed his whole weight down on the man's throat...

"Go back tae yer Master now, an' tell him Br'nard Even'star is coming tae settle an old debt."

Br'nard pressed down harder as, with a final gargle and rattle in his throat, the Cultist gave a shudder and lay still.

Removing his boot, The Barbarian shouldered his Broadsword and turning, stepping over the corpse, continued on through the large, dark tunnel located behind the alter, leaving the cavern a scene of bloody devastation in his wake...

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nostalgic Syndicate Character Portrait: Br'nard Even'star Character Portrait: General Aloysius Character Portrait: Harvest Character Portrait: Siv Drakryttare
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#, as written by Sylwyn
"Br'nard!" The Drakryvon called out to the clansman, but he was already out of earshot. "Ye dinna know what yer getting into..." she finished quietly.

General Aloysius and the Blades Captain met the shield maiden's ice blues, her gaze now filled with apprehension as she came to realize they must know something she did not.

"He doesn't know these ruins, does he?" David finally worked up the courage to ask.

"Only inasmuch as meself, I reckon, and this is the first I've been." Siv crossed her arms, her stare darkening at the two older men. "What about them?"

At last, the General heaved a sigh and opened his mouth to reply, but the Blades Captain cut him off. "We haven't been down here since last summer, when we rescued an excavation team from the orcs. They were afraid to return to the dig site, said they'd been hearing things."

"What kinds of things?" she asked, more insistently.

"Voices," the General continued. "Whispers carrying the ring of steel on strange tongues, beckoning, calling out to some unseen force."

Demons, she half-wondered, but something told her, and she could tell by the wary look in the Captain's eyes, he likely had at some point come to, and dismissed that very conclusion. What else could be down here, lurking in these ruins?

"Ma'am?" David's voice interrupted her thoughts.

Turning, she came face to face with the General, the reflection of her torch flame flickering in his eyes as he leaned toward her.

"What say you?" Aloysius queried.

"We press on," Siv replied simply, placing a firm hand on the boy's shoulder, her tight-lipped expression thereafter belying her otherwise stoic demeanor.

Nodding, the General circled the men, one step at a time, tapping four of them on the shoulder and motioning for them to join the small company. ā€œYou, you, you and you, with me.ā€ The mercenary sporting the wolf mask, and two soldiers stepped up next to David. Aloysius stopped directly in front of the Blades Captain, his expression stern, and gestured toward the mouth of the cave. "Guard the entrance and make sure no one gets in or out. If we don't return within the hour..."

The Blades Captain nodded his head, placing one hand on the hilt of his blade. "Understood, Sir."

...

The General, with the Drakrvon warrior close by, kept his charges at either flank as they advanced further into the ruins. The air was heavy, chilled with a dampness that bit to the bone and electrified as if a storm loomed above them, on the verge of unleashing a wicked torrent. The ever-present, otherworldly hum seemed to permeate his being with the eerie, lingering sense something was tracking their every move.

"Cultists," he murmured, eyeing the inscribed ebony altars erected throughout as if risen up from the ground itself.

"Nothing new," the shield maiden replied coolly.

"But, why here, why now?" the General half-asked, half-wondered aloud. Demon worshipers had become increasingly prevalent over the last decade, and he had grown used to cults cropping up across the empire at random intervals. "We haven't run into any factions this far east since the rebellion at Fairweather in '63. Even then, they were only using scare tactics to deter the Legion."

"I dinna know," she admitted, and several minutes passed in silence until at long last, he heard a low rumble and felt the ground stir faintly beneath his feet.

He and the Drakryvon exchanged glances.

"The ruins weren't doing this when we arrived," he said, almost stupidly, and instantly regretted his words when she narrowed her eyes at him.

"An' jes what do ye suppose they were doing?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but the sounds of a dying battle in the cavern ahead gave him pause as a shriek of agony echoed in the gloom ahead. Then, everything grew silent, and the General could just make out words spoken in a gruff, male voice.

"Go back tae yer Master now, an' tell him Br'nard Even'star is coming tae settle an old debt."

The shield maiden stopped at the end of the tunnel beside the General, who signaled for his men to move forward, but a low rumble emanated from somewhere deep in the ground, and the men looked to each other anxiously as the floor began to quake beneath their feet.

Pressing back against the left side of the tunnel to steady herself, Siv leaned into the darkness and called out, ā€œBrā€™nard!ā€ But, the tremors grew stronger, and her shout was all but lost in the sound of crumbling rock and boulders crashing behind them.

ā€œMove! Move! Move!ā€ Aloysius suddenly hollered, shoving her forward as the others dashed out of the tunnel, struggling to maintain their balance.

Siv lost her grip on the torch, letting it clatter to the floor, and rolled onto her hands and knees. When the quaking stopped, the General secured his own footing and offered a hand to help her up, but she waved him away. As she started to get up, the ground gave one last shudder and stilled, causing her to stumble.

ā€œPesh!ā€ Siv growled, reaching for the gloved hand still held out to her. Aloysius clamped his fingers around her arm and pulled her upright. ā€œThank ye,ā€ she muttered hastily, and brushed the dirt from her clothing in a vain attempt to retain some sense of dignity.

Acknowledging her with a nod, the General cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, ā€œBarbarian! Are you alā€”ā€

A deafening CRACK resounded in the air, and blinding light of irradiant blue flashed and dimmed, filling the cavern with a pale, ethereal glow spilling from the tunnels all around them.

Glancing back into the collapsed tunnel, Siv saw a crackling sheet of light that spanned the width of the tunnel, barring the way they had come.

David stepped toward the light.

ā€œBe careful,ā€ Aloysius cautioned.

The boy started to reach out with one hand, jerking back when the short, fine hairs on his head stood on end. ā€œGods! What is that?ā€

ā€œIt must be some sort of magical barrier,ā€ Siv answered, briefly squinting at the light. ā€œDonā€™t touch it.ā€

ā€œWell, we arenā€™t going back that way,ā€ the General said decidedly, and motioned for his men to follow him. ā€œFall in. Weā€™d best search for another way out.ā€

Making her way across the cavern, the shield maiden spotted Brā€™nardā€™s silhouette against another barrier blocking his path from the other side. She broke into a jog to catch up and abruptly halted in her tracks when a loud voice suddenly boomed from above, echoing in the massive space, ā€œWarning! Multiple security breaches. Contaminants loose in sectors one, two and four through seven. Active personnel please proceed to sector three to initiate purge. All others proceed to sector eight for immediate evacuation. Warningā€”ā€

ā€¦

ā€œā€¦Multiple security breachesā€¦. Proceed to sector eight forā€¦ Warning...ā€

The voice, a clear, resonating femaleā€™s, boomed monotonously above Brā€™nard, speaking in another, foreign, guttural language and three unmistakably elvish dialects before repeating the first phrase without changing tone.

ā€œā€¦Active personnel please proceed to sector three to initiate purge. All others proceed to sector eight for immediate evacuationā€¦ā€