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PostPosted: Thu Jun 25, 2020 12:57 pm 
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You have all recently arrived in the village of Axbridge.
Some of you travelled here from the north, through Helfax Wood; some of you came through the Coronach Marshes, along the mysterious raised dyke called Dobby’s Walk.

You are strangers here, and you have spent the past few days getting the lie of the land.
The villagers tell you that their Lord is Baron Aldred, whose castle is many days’ ride away.
Axbridge is the most westerly village of his fief; travellers pass through regularly, so the villagers are better informed that most.
They know that the fifes of surly Baron Grisaille and Montombre, nicknamed ‘the Elfin Earl’, lie to the south.
They are ruthless lords, said to be no friends of Aldred.

Harvest time is close, and the villagers are working long hours in the fields.
Most of your information comes from Odo, a crippled old man who whiles away the day on a seat under the apple tree on the village green. He claims to have adventured a little in his younger days, and seems pleased to let you stay at his house in return for a Florin or two every few days.


We start here. I will post again later. For now, please start a thread with your character in, and post their stats, and a bit about who they are, what they look like, and any goals or ambitions.


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PostPosted: Thu Jun 25, 2020 2:09 pm 
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You have not helped to bring in the harvest, but that doesn’t stop you joining in the festivities when, a few days later, the last corn is cut.
Cider is drunk and a service performed by the village priest, Bretwald.
After the service, as the autumn evening turns to night, the villagers dance merrily in the churchyard.

Bretwald joins you, “Many of these rites are pagan, of course” he says with a wry smile, "but it does no good to tell them that.”
He rubs his back.
“Bringing home the harvest has been hard work for us all. I have a cask of cog wine inside. Come – join me for a drink.”
In Bretwald’s house you can still hear the sounds of revelry outside, but muffled now.
The last rays of sunlight are fading and he brings a lamp and places it on the table.
He unfurls a parchment – it seems to be a map, and there is something written below it in a script you do not recognize.

“Have you heard of Vallandar?” asks Bretwald.
“Rex quondam rexque futurus. He is said to have been king of this land long ago. His reign was just and pious, great warriors bowed to be his vassals. But his evil half-brother Morgrin hated him for his goodness, betrayed him to his enemies, wrought a war in which Vallandar’s kingdom was laid waste. The legends say that Vallandar met Morgrin in the final battle and struck him down with a single blow, but Morgrin had laid a spell upon his sword and it dealt the king a grievous wound as it fell from the traitor’s dead hand.

Mathor, the king’s wizard, found his dying lord on the battlefield and took him in his arms, carrying him to a secret crypt that he had built. There he placed Vallandar, with his twelve bravest knights and all the treasures of his kingdom, to await the day when he was needed again to drive injustice from these shores.
“A pretty story to be sure. I believe there was indeed a powerful warlord called Vallandar – or Valdyne, or Klavayn; accounts differ. This document was given to me by a monk years ago; he could not read the language. I was a friar in Cornumbria in my youth, and I learned a little of this script there. It tells where Vallandar is buried”
– he stabs his finger down on the parchment – “in Fenring Forest, three days hence!”


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PostPosted: Fri Jun 26, 2020 11:21 am 
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Laila considered the priests words, " I have not heard of the Wallandar or his Galdrmann. I have spent some time in Baron Aldred's lands and heard many tales....but tis one intrigues me. Do you mean to rob the tomb of tis great Jarl?"

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PostPosted: Mon Jun 29, 2020 9:42 am 
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"Smell gold do you, Mercanian?" Lucky laughs. "I could do with a fresh gown myself, to be fair."

Sten eyes the priest suspiciously "You say you have had the map for years why wait so long to investigate it?"

" Nej, tis a dangerous undertaking plundering a Jarls barrow....back home it is whispered tey are likely to wisit such robbers at home an take their lives as recompense."

Hearing the word 'treasure', Calder's ears pricked. Perhaps this is the chance for him to redeem his family's fortunes.
"Hail friends, how about we join hands and try to find this king's treasure which will help us in anyway we want," Calder says, addressing the people around him and bowing when he has spoken.

Bohemond frowns at the inferences of plundering the tomb. "No. Not plunder."
Turning to Bretwald, "I also saw the name written as Valndr, but that could be just a local variance. Do... Do you believe we might be able to mount a small expedition to see if the tomb is indeed there? We could discover more about the history of Ellesland. Or at least, clean up the area and send pilgrims there."
Then to the others, "I am in... If you'll have me."

"Well, I certainly can help you in your godly task of cleansing the area of filth. However, I believe many of us do hope for the treasure of the king too. I believe our aims and goals are somewhat aligned," Calder says.

Lucky leans over to mutter in Sten's ear. "Think this is a godly thing he'll be wanting us to do?"

" Hmmm, well.....I tink if tis Jarl Wallandar wants to complain he will komer to Bretwald's home first.
I wouldn't mind seeing tis place regardless....I seen little bar trade roads, warehouses and inns in my time here."

Hearing the lady speak in a strange accent, Calder turns towards her and says, "Hail stranger! Calder here. From your words, you merchant or carouser? You also interested in king treasure?"
Saying that Calder bows in respect to the lady as knights must do.

Sten replies to Lucky quietly, "Hardly think tomb robbing Godly and I'm not surprised"


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 29, 2020 10:08 am 
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Bretwald turns to Sten. "This is not the first time I have set out to discover the tomb. I hoped that with the treasure recovered from Vallandr's tomb, the work of the Church might be furthered.."

He gestures to you all to gather round as he tells his story.

"About a year ago I found a suitable band of adventurers – at least, I thought they were suitable.
Agnar Wolfeye and his men turned out to be the most bloodthirsty cutthroats one could hope not to meet?
We entered Fenring Forest, and while we were searching for the exact location of the tomb, one of Agnar’s ruffians spied an Elf nearby. The damned fool shot it with his crossbow."

“That was the start of our troubles.
The next day two of the men took sick, poisoned by bad water from a spring.
A man we sent out scouting failed to return.
At dawn we awoke to find his severed head set on a pole by the camp fire!"

“Most of the men were for turning back then, but Agnar was a mad dog and I – for my sins, I was too proud and greedy to abandon the search.
We went deeper into the forest, keeping our scouts closer now.
At last one of them called out to us – ‘Here I’ve found it! Here!’
We rushed though the trees and came into the clearing where the colossal stone portal of the tomb stands.
But the man who had called out was lashed upside-down to a frame, and Elves stood all around with bows.

Agnar bellowed crazily and charged them, swinging his axe.
A tall faerie lord strode forward, spoke a word.
Agnar fell dead in his tracks.
Then the Elf-lord came to me and I held my cross in trembling hands.
I looked right into his pale cold eyes.
He said ‘You are not one of them.
You did not desire this madness, and we shall spare you our retribution.
Go now; take my cloak and the wolves shall let you pass.’

Sure enough, he gave me the cloak from his shoulders.
I could see a circle of red-eyed wolves about the clearing now.
Agnar’s men were pleading with me to help them, but I could do nothing.
I went to the edge of the clearing, and though the wolves snarled they parted to let me go.
I walked at first, then began to run, Behind me, the men began to scream.

“It was bitter to know I had found the tomb and lost it.
Then a wily thought came to me.
I snagged the Elf-lord’s cloak on a briar and began to unravel it as I went.
When I reached the forest’s edge, I had used up all the thread.
I went quickly to Saxton and lay in a fever there three days.
When I went back, I could not find the thread, though I had marked the tree where I had wound the end of it.
Abbot Adrian , whom I later consulted in a circumspect manner, was of the opinion that a fine faerie thread might only show in strong moonlight, for the Elves make garments to keep themselves hidden.
I believe him to be a considerable authority in such matters.
The first full moon of Michaelmas falls twelve days from now, so if you wish to join me we shall depart in just over a week.”


He turns to Bohemond. "Forgive me for not sharing this tale with you before, Brother. It is only with the coming of these adventurers, that I have grasped the opportunity to set out once more."


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 29, 2020 10:38 am 
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" Agnarr? I apologise for the lack of honour shown by one of my ffolk."

" I will accompany you in this in order to restore my peoples standing in your eyes."

" You seek to outwit the Ljósálfar.....you will need all the help you can get.

_________________
co-author Fury of the Deep
co-author Friends or Foes
co-author Dragon Warriors Players Guide
co-author Cold Fury
co-author Cadaver Draconis
co-author Ordo Draconis 1 and 2.


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 29, 2020 12:12 pm 
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"Well, you can count Lucky and I in, cause we need more treasure and uuummm more .....treasure."


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PostPosted: Mon Jun 29, 2020 12:45 pm 
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"That explains much about your reactions, brother... Do, huh, do you think we might avoid the same fate?" He chuckles nervously, grabbing his elbow. He looks sideways to the greedier elements in the party.

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PostPosted: Mon Jun 29, 2020 2:21 pm 
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Bretwald will let the 'greedier' members of the party speak before he answers Bohemond.


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PostPosted: Tue Jun 30, 2020 12:55 am 
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After hearing what the others have said, Calder could no longer hold it. The talk of possible treasure certainly intrigues him. Perhaps, he thinks to himself, this could be his ticket to fame and fortune and the restoration of honor.

Stepping out, he says," If you do not find my help too paltry, Sir priest, count me in. I am certain my armour and sword will be of use."


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