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Registry of the Lodge of the Bronze Knight
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TheLurkerBelow
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Joined: 14 Dec 2009
Posts: 29
Location: a little pond in a big cavern

PostPosted: Mon Jan 11, 2010 3:33 pm    Post subject: Registry of the Lodge of the Bronze Knight Reply with quote

attn: Dartavian and crew

Ivan - 26 y.o. extra large human male. Think Linderman from My Bodyguard. Overgrown kid. His world is hard and rough so he's not an obese slob by any means, but he's no veteran
warrior or physical laborer either. Ht: 6'4" Wt: 240(ish) Black Hair moderately long. Grey eyes.

Ivan is a Duuran. He is from a clan of wanderer/traders that can be found anywhere between Mask and Vesbridge ususally no more than twenty miles from the Verhlands Ocean Road.
His grandfather is a highly regarded shaman in the clan, and though Ivan doesn't understand all the details, he believes his grandfather underwent the guarded ritual to become a Duuran Bloodlord long ago. The clan has 70ish people that call it home but at any time and extended family or two are spending time with friends or offspring who previously left the clan. They gather herbs and hunt animals, both common and exotic. They eat the meat and trade the animal parts which occassionally are more prized than the finest herbs.

They primarily trade with the humans on the road or in the towns along the road, but they also trade with nearby goblin and gnole tribes. Many that encounter them might call
them gypsies or hunters, and some zealous orcs may even describe them as barbarians. The clansmen spoke the Duuran tongue amongst one another but they all were to be familiar with Verlainen, the language they used when trading along the road.

His father departed from the clan when he was still very young. He had an ability to find the finest herbs and found he could get much more out of them if he personnaly ventured
to the great city of Llesendor to trade them. There he greatly enjoyed the city life. He frequently went back to the clan but over time Llesendor truly became his full time
home. When Ivan was nine his father finally convinced his mother to bring the rest of the family to the city. Ivan was sent to a tutor who would teach him to speak, read, and
write in Ceyneian.

The tutor was a Duuran and introduced Ivan to the druids at the temple of Vorn. His mother couldn't accept the city life and seperation from her family. After just over a year she returned with Ivans youngest brother who was only two. His sister stayed on until his fathers next visit to the clan, when an older boy their demonstrated his desire to court her. She determined then to stay with her mom. His mother and fathers seperation was due to no ill-will, but rather they couldn't permanently live in the same places. His mom took another man back with the clan.

He spent much of his time in Llesendor with his tutor or at the temple with the druids. His father was preoccupied with his business and other associations. His favorite times were travelling with his father, who continued to jouney at least twice a year to visit the clan, trading along the way. They'd be on the road for as much as two months of each year. In addition to finding the finest herbs, his father had the gift of gab. He could trade anything to anybody it seemed. But what Ivan particularly liked were the morning and evening meals on the road. His father would drop business and talk about the old times. He's tell stories of his own father and grandfather. He'd even discuss ancient legends. (NO MENTION OF THE NATURALISTS OR THE GNOLES WAS EVER MADE (caps intentional!)). A couple of times he stayed with the clan for a few months each time while his father went about on business. While there he discussed the temple of Vorn with his grandfather. His grandfather also got him interested in creating small figurines and sculptures with bones, rocks, and wood.

As the years passed he became modestly impressive with his ability to create totems and figurines, even incorporating precious gems into his work. His father was somewhat amused and took the opportunity to teach him how to trade the work and even how to solicit the desires of potential patrons and create what they would pay the most for. His father was less amused with his decision to use a lot of his recent sales funds to purchase armor and shield. This has proven irrelevant recently, as upon returning from up north after
time with his clan, he's learned that his father has dissapeared and not been seen or heard from for many weeks.

Ivan is adept with Ritual magic. It was a good fit for his following the old Duuran ways. The elemental and primal lords of the wild and even the archonic and demonic beings of
the many planes better understand the way of Vorn moreso than the humanoids found in the Vehrland (his own personal travelling shrine of totems and figurines are dominated by
elementals). Ivan understands that all are fine and have their place, feeling no hate for the followers of other gods. Even the beings of the Church of Winter should be
respected. They are only doing their part in the cycle that is Vorn. Unfortunately he's encountered a lot of hate in this world. Contempt and disdain based in prejudice
dominated the behavior of most beings. Because of this he pretty much despises all humanoids that aren't a part of the clan.

As this attitude really wouldn't allow him to do well in Llesendor he has learned to let the persuasive charm his father taught him be in control most of the time. You many not
want to really know what thoughts are going on behind his actual greetings. It is rare but sometimes a being will demonstrate his prejudices with such poor behavior that Ivan
cannot stand it. He retaliates not by scolding and correcting the ignorant fools, but by mocking their prejudice with his own, with which he throws out with a sharp tongue.

Recently he has received a very fine medallion and invitation to visit from a well known organization in the city. He is not very familiar with their business, but has known
their name, the Lodge of the Bronze Knight. Since his father is not around and he has only recently returned from spending time with his clan he is determined to accept their
invitation.
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Last edited by TheLurkerBelow on Sun Jan 31, 2010 12:08 am; edited 1 time in total
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Lars
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Joined: 18 Jan 2010
Posts: 9
Location: Belton, Mo

PostPosted: Mon Jan 18, 2010 12:20 pm    Post subject: Lars Intro Reply with quote

Wayfarers –Lars Van Hausen
Ht 6' Wt 210 black shortcropped bowl style hair blue eyes age 21

One summer day in the early hours a son was born to Hans and Solphie Van Hausen. Hans was a soldier in Llesendor’s army. Solphie was a seamstress and took care of the home. Their son they named Lars, and this is his beginning.
From and early age Lars would watch as his father left for patrols and returned with grand stories to tell his son. Most of which were true at the start of the telling, but not completely accurate near the end. These stories filled Lars with a romantic vision of the soldier’s life. This was compounded with the zodiacs under which he was born. Born in Aguierre under the Inferno plane, he was a mixture of love and hatred, but loyal to those he considered his own people.
This would manifest in many ways as the boy grew to adulthood. Brought on by the events that shaped his life. When Lars was at the age of 8, Hans was slain in a border skirmish with some brigands from the south. His mother tried to raise him as best she could but he was a temperamental lad and got into many fights. Solphie tried to marry again but the boy resisted the man’s attempts to befriend him and attacked him as he slept with a broken wagon spoke he had found near the roadside. The man struck back and nearly killed Lars. This brought an end to his mother’s affair with the man, but left her sad. Lars was 13 at this time.
Growing up in the church of spring and raised by his lone mother, Lars found a great love for all women. Not a sporting mans type fondness, but a true respect for the calm wisdom women seemed to possess. As he advanced in age he began to think of how best he could serve his people, then it turned to how best the people could serve themselves. It became apparent to him that as a whole, men were more suited the the violent clashes war and battle brought. That men were not only fond of combat but that their minds seemed to work in a fashion suited for tactics over anything else.
By contrast, the minds of women were more at peace, like a placid lake, allowing for deeper thought. It seemed simple to him, men should run the military and women should run the civil governments. Rhiannon was a great example as she was the mother of life and she ruled the church of spring. He would devote his life to the protection of his people and their lands.
At the age of 16 Lars arranged that his mother marry a retired soldier who had lost his left hand in combat. He was stalwart fellow and treated Solphie very well. Lars then left to join the army. Along the way he came upon a merchant in need of guards. He hired on and thus began his life as a mercenary. He has traveled all over the lands surrounding Llesendor. At the age of 20 he received word that his mother was ill. He returned to he side and stayed there for 4 months until she passed away peacefully in her sleep.
Three days after her death, as Lars was readying to leave town, a soldier approached with a letter for him. As he is unable to read at this time, the man read him the message. It was an invitation to attend the trials for an old mercenary company thought to be near ended. They are called the Order of the Bronze Knight. The name alone was enough to entice him to follow up on the invitation.
Lars was accepted and has been a loyal member of the unit on several missions now. He is enthralled by the various different members and how each carries himself in his own manner. They have little in the way of organized standard tactics, but seem to work well together regardless.
He is still a staunch defender of the people of Llesendor and a devout follower of Rhiannon. In an early skirmish at the siege of badgers Mill, a large gnol slew a young boy who was defending his mother. Lars advanced immediately firing arrows as he closed and eventually charging the gnol leader. The Gnol was a large brute in chain mail and carried a battle axe. Lars made ready his falchion and shield. In the end the gnol lay dead and Lars was looking face to face with a weeping mother. She had just lost her son and but a day or so earlier, her husband was slain as well. After receiving payment for their part in the battle, Lars spent over half his wealth to assist the lady Lorenda in rebuilding her inn and life. As time passes he continues to find ways to see and assist her. They are developing a mutual relationship and one day he hopes to make her his wife and retire from the order at the inn.
As for now though, the call to duty is strong and there is war on the near horizon. Should he take to the hearth early that he may keep her safe so far in the outland areas? Should he ask her to sell her inn and build a new place for her near the manor? This would allow her to remain in business and he at work in the order, while still being able to see her when not on campaign. Only time will reveal the outcome. Rhiannon bless Llesendor and bring wisdom to our queen.
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Gregory Vrill
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PostPosted: Mon Jan 18, 2010 6:37 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Fantastic, of the high-quality, rich descriptions I've come to expect from you guys.

I like the Lorenda angle- my players rarely interacted with the world in such a way, as it generally provided another mechanism through which the GM could mess with them. So I admire GMs who show such restraint or players who say damn the consequences and go for a dose of reality and tragedy in the game.
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Lars
Ecclesia


Joined: 18 Jan 2010
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Location: Belton, Mo

PostPosted: Wed Jan 20, 2010 11:24 pm    Post subject: Caleb Stormcrow Reply with quote

Caleb Stormcrow
˝ elf male Age: 32
Ht 5’8” Wt 150 Eyes: green hair: Jet Black colored, flat topped pate, tight cut sides, long braided back with leather strings and carved wood beads braided in
Plane: alluvium – wealth, subterfuge God: Zuul - careful, perception

West of Bordermarch at the base of the mountains is a large forest. It’s here that I was born on a cold winters days in Zuul with a light snow on the branches of the great trees limbs. In the trees at the forests edge was a small hut where I grew up. Just my parents and I lived there with hardly any neighbors.

I belonged to these woods then, not just home to me but life itself. I hunted for all I needed and helped my father pick the best trees to cut for lumber. The forest spoke to me then, as it did too many of my mothers people in the old days. My father was a timberwright and cut lumber for the merchants to sell. He was paid well for his work. Few others wanted to stay near the realm of my mothers people for long. They weren’t kind to those who cut the forest without care.

We were happy in those days, until the men of the south came. I was hunting then, getting food for the night’s meal. I found my father axe in hand. Two brigands lay dead on the ground nearby, one missing a hand, the other with a deep gash in his skull. The house was aflame and much of our belongings were all over the ground. My mother was nowhere to be found. I read the signs in the dirt and followed the men and their horse. Two men were left, and a horse with no shoes. The hoof prints were deep so the beast must be burdened, it must have been my mother and the loot they had stolen.

As I followed them I came upon a small patrol of soldiers. Apparently these men had been busy on the forest’s edge for some time. I told them I would track for them, and they agreed to give me a share of the reward. We were a good match. They were strong and honorable men and kept their word. I was listening to the voices in the wind and we caught the brigands the next morning in their camp.

I crept close for a good view to try and find my mother. Damnable elven eyes, I found, or at least what was left. They had met up with some gnols and given her to them as a tribute. From my nice hidden position two arrows whistled through the air, one catching the beast in the chest, the other in his throat. They sank deep into his hide and he fell over without opening his mouth. Unfortunately gnols are natural hunters with keen senses, the others rose to their feet almost instantly. I fired another arrow and heard a great roar as the soldiers crashed through the underbrush. The two forces met without much resistance, and the soldiers were victorious.

I returned to the manor-house and took my share of the reward. I have never returned to my forest home. There is nothing there for me now. I made quite a name for myself hunting petty thieves and brigands. Lead some nobles on hunts, and a few on chases for me. Men are easier to hunt than our four legged brothers. For all their reasoning ability, they are the dumbest animals around. It’s good to know where you stand in the world. I started on my knees like everyone else, but I’m starting to stand taller each day. Money comes easy so long as someone is willing to pay for another’s demise. The right coin will put your troubles at your feet or left in a field. A cloth yard shaft in his heart marked by two gray veins and one black vein. That’s my mark, the mark of Stormcrow. May the gods grant pity to any man who forges my mark, for I will not.

There’s tellings of the bronze order being rebuilt. I think ill journey and see if this is so. A chance at big rewards is inviting to my heart, or what replaced it.
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Gregory Vrill
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PostPosted: Thu Jan 21, 2010 9:49 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

"born... in Zuul" is a great expression. Are these all PCs?
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Dartavian
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Joined: 31 Oct 2009
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Location: Peculiar, Missouri

PostPosted: Thu Jan 21, 2010 10:54 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Greg,

Yes these are all player characters. They each have distinctive personalities and my players put life into each and every one of them. Here is the current roster for the order. This may help keep it all straight for those following our story.

Roster of The Order of the Bronze Knight
Name - Race – Profession or Vocation
*** - denoted NPC’s

Council Members – Platinum Seals
Razz – Reptilian - Priest
Legar - Orc - Mercenary
Ivan – Human – Merchant
Locian – Sidhe – Hedge Wizard
Vladimir Zarek – Half-Orc - Thanist Crusader (Lesser Faith) – Council Treasurer
Hargrim Ironheart – Dwarf – Engineer, Seige Master

Treasurer – Gold Seal
***Rhodaban Felekos – Gnome – Treasurer of the Order – Master Accountant

Quarter Master – Gold Seal
***Grealis Proudfoot – Halfling – Quartermaster of the Order – Executive Chef

Chronicler – Gold Seal
Binkelsnirt Hammerspike – Gnome – Chronicler of the Order- Sage/Scribe

Captain – Silver Seal
Conn – Orc – Scout

Master Tradesman – Silver Seal
None currently

Sergeant – Bronze Seal
Gabriel – Cambian – Antique Collector & Dealer
Antal Galos – Human – Lesser Hermetic Mage, Armorer & Leatherworker
Caleb Stormcrow – Half-Elf – Scout

Journeyman – Iron Seal
Lars Von Hausen – Human – Soldier
Finnegwyn Tuall – Half-Elf – Hedge Mage, Tailor, Herbalist, Healer
Ferdinand Pinklswythe – Human – Duelist

Men-at-Arms – Stone Seal
Torin – Ogre – Soldier, Bodyguard
Karlin – Dwarf – Soldier/Mercenary
Malach – Half-Orc – Weapon Master

Tradesman – Wood Seal
Bahg – Ogre – Seaman, Porter, Pugilist
Jinx – Ratkin – Merchant
Orwyn Keth – Human – Ostler, Blacksmith, Leatherworker
Ned Baxter – Human – Teamster
Gilbert Batali – Human – Cook, Hunter, Teamster
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"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex... It takes a touch of genius - and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction."
- Albert Einstein
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JimmySwill
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Location: Torsche

PostPosted: Fri Jan 22, 2010 8:52 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

It's rare I see another group and think: "I want in". -It's obvious you guys have something special going on.

The names are fantastic.
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Lars
Ecclesia


Joined: 18 Jan 2010
Posts: 9
Location: Belton, Mo

PostPosted: Fri Jan 22, 2010 4:39 pm    Post subject: Hargrim Ironheart Reply with quote

Hargrim Ironheart

Dwarf male Age: 50
Ht 5’ Wt 160 Eyes: grey hair: dark gray colored, bald friar tuck pate while the sides and back are long and pulled back to a single braid
Plane: Veridian Realm – Nature, Misanthropy God: Xeres - creative

I was born the son of Halfdan, son of Holgrim, son of Hendrik. I grew up in Daerlonig. A small settlement of my people few know of. We are a private people who follow the priests of Vorn in or daily lives. Woe to him who comes unannounced to the realm of Daerlonig.

My clan is small in our land but all are important if you do your part. I have left the safety of the halls and journeyed into the realm of Llesendor to study the crafters of this realm. Knowing their ways not only increases my knowledge in the trade, but lets me find their weaknesses in case they should see fit to invade our home. All you do must be done to further the clan, for even the smallest dishonor can cause a falling cascade of doubt.

I find myself in marvel that the world should provide so many different ways to allow one to craft anything one desires. One might work stone, clay, wood or metal and make a simple bowl. These same pieces of Vorn’s body could be used in the creation of weapons or the walls of a rampart to defend a home.

I prefer the crafting of stoneworks above all else. It is sturdy and stands against time well. I can leave a mark upon the earth to honor Vorn that will last for generations.

Recently I was called to reclaim a position held long ago by one of my ancestors. Who you ask, well it matters not, I’m here not him. It is my turn to take part in Vorn’s cycle. I will hold to my oath in this order until such time as it pits me to odds against Daerlonig, and then I will return to my people with all I have learned.

I have spoken of myself but not much on my home. That’s because it doesn’t concern you. You’re not of the folk so you need know nothing else. Stand clear the mountains foot should you raise the anger of my kin. The will of Vorn is ours to embrace and the mountain will rumble to bury our foes. Keep your concern and curiosity in the realm of your own.
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Rasfrasen
Lodge of the Bronze Knight
Lodge of the Bronze Knight


Joined: 02 Nov 2009
Posts: 89

PostPosted: Fri Jan 22, 2010 10:58 pm    Post subject: Razzeel (Razz) Reply with quote

This is a record of the beginnings of the life of Razzeel. His mother's name was S'liss, his father shall remain nameless at Razzeel's request. Reptilians are hatched from eggs, each clutch is between four to a dozen eggs, and they are most commonly laid in the home then brought to the warming grounds, sands blessed by the Dragon. The eggs are a light yellow color at clutching and after a day on the warming sands become a golden color. The eggs are tended by the elder females of the tribe or village.
S'liss was overjoyed to be pregnant with her first clutch. Her husband was likewise proud and doted on his mate. However during clutching she produced but a single white egg. Believing her to be cursed, her mate and the elders cast her out of the village with her unusual offspring. S'liss wandered the desert fearing for her life and the life of her egg. Without the village's warming grounds her egg had no chance of living. She walked far into the night finally collapsing onto the sand under an outcropping of rock. She curled around her egg to keep it warm. She slept the day through and the chill of night woke her. S'liss feared her lone egg would never hatch, then she noticed the ground around her was unnaturally warm. The Dragon had not abandoned her as had her people. The egg was changing from the stark white to a burnished silver. She guarded the egg, afraid to leave it even to gather food and water. The cactus nearby could provide the water, and to her amazement the warm sands that kept her egg, attracted the wildlife at night with its heat and she was able to eat.
Inside the egg, Razzeel was already dreaming without understanding, but he would have the dream over and over to this day. Weeks later he hatched, and his mother S'liss rejoiced. She taught him to survive in the desert but not about his people, whom had exiled them. He grew and learned, from his mother in the day, and in his dreams at night, the Dragon spoke to him, teaching him many other things. He was only four years old when S'liss was bitten by a deadly serpent while foraging for food, hidden in the sand it struck her as she passed. S'liss drug herself back to the outcropping they called home. Razzeel did as she told and brought her water. He fell asleep finally at her side in the early morning hours. In his dreams he called to the Dragon over and over again, finally it answered him. He wanted his mother back, but the dragon remained silent, he begged and pleaded, and finally when he offered himself in her place the Dragon spoke. “I will claim her as mine if you serve me, “ it said, “she will be reborn and you will bring her to me when the time is right. Go now into the desert head south and watch for signs I will show you the way to me.”
Razzeel woke to find himself beside a giant egg, half buried in the sand. Razzeel was scared and afraid to leave the egg, believing it contained his mother, and for the first time he heard the Dragon in his waking mind. “Go, and I will bury the egg, it will be safe until you come for it. When I call you again you must come and retrieve her and bring her to me.” The wind began to blow and sand piled up around the egg. Razzeel covered his face and walked south into the blinding wind.
When Razzeel emerged from the storm he was before a shrine. He went inside walking without a sound. He passed guards and a great beast as he went deeper into the shrine, they were but shadows not perceiving the visitor that wandered by. Hidden deep below was a great wyrm, it was vast but asleep. There were strange devices everywhere. All that Razzeel had past was but a shadow, but the Dragon was real, solid and sleeping. It spoke, “ I am Izain, now you must go from here and not return until I call. You must not speak of this place ever.”
Razzeel went from the temple and walked for many many days, surviving as his mother had taught him. He arrived at a city of the Sathar people, his people. He was tired and worn thin from his difficult travel. He fell at the feet of a priest and was taken to local temple to recover. He knew the ways of the temple already from his dreams. He was allowed to stay and became a priest of the Dragon. More then two decades passed and no call, but a strange letter arrived asking for his presence in Llsendor. A place that long denied any part in the human wars. This Lodge of the Bronze Knight wanted him to sit on its council. He was hesitant, but that night his mothers voice came to him, “Go, see what the world has become, grow in knowledge and power. Only then will you hear the call...”
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TheLurkerBelow
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Joined: 14 Dec 2009
Posts: 29
Location: a little pond in a big cavern

PostPosted: Fri Jan 22, 2010 11:18 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Lars: crikey mate! you've set the bar mighty damn high, how's a chap supposed to keep up with that.

Dartavian: yo boss, check back a page.

Gregory and Jimmy: dwarf information sparse. if there are problems with my short sketch offered here then please offer up any suggestions you may. this is your world, we just occupy it.

Karlin. 34 y.o. dwarf male. soldier.

umpteenth generation member of Gungnir's battalion, one of two battalions that compose the protection for the city of Nidavellir. The city is led by Mimir, a crafty dwarf with skin nearly as dark as his coal black beard. Fjalor, Karlin's father, has labored for a life achieving the rank of sergeant in the battalion, one of a dozen, before losing a hand and being relegated to lesser tasks. It's his lifes ambition to see Karlin be the first of their family to finally survive long enough to make the rank of captain.

The city is in Khaedor, roughly halfway between Brandmoor and Lurnslyle. It may not be the largest dwarven community in Twylos but the residents suspect there may be none stronger. The mountain fortress and it's residents benefit from a mountainous region rich in minerals. They have long been among the finest craftsmen of buildings and tools of all manner. They trade both their products and skills with all the residents of the Khaedor region. Their masonry and ironwork can be seen in the finest buildings from Rheyes to Unsbrecht Keep, but for the most part they trade tools with Brandmoor. The Lurnslyle trade is more lucrative, but tends to go in seasonal caravan travel, as the journey is frequently plagued with barbarous ogres.

The ogres and wild creatures of the region inspire the cities large military expense. The ogres frequently take dwarven prisoners which they sell to the Slavers guild. On account of this Karlins unit frequently accompanies merchants and craftsmen around the region. Occasionally multiple units will be tasked with raiding the ogre tribes with the purpose of bringing back survivors, which are then held to exchange with the ogres in the case that the ogres grab a dwarf of importance.

On a recent excursion to Rheyes he was approached by a gnome who inquired about his father Fjalor. The gnome had a letter to be delivered to the youngest son of Fjalor. Karlin explained that as his only siblings were two sisters, he must therefore be the youngest of Fjalor's sons. He requested that the gnome read the letter to him. It requested his presence in Llesendor, at the invitation of the Lodge of the Bronze Knight. He departed from the gnome with doubts that he would accept the invitation.

Upon returning home he discussed the invitation with his father. At first Fjalor was suspicious and pretty much incredulous at the notion that Karlin follow this invitation. After much consideration his father remembered that his own grandfather had departed for the Vehrlands long before when he hisself wasn't even full-grown. The next morning Karlin awoke to see his gear along with a pack full of food waiting by the door. His father explained that this could be a great opportunity. He should venture into the world and return with the kind of knowledge and experience which would win him an appointment as captain. He made it explicitly clear that Karlin was not to dawdle, and that if the situation seemed no more than a silly human hoax, to not waste his time and return immediately.

During the entire journey Karlin sulked and approached the invitation with a great deal of skepticism. It turns out however, that the Lodge not only had another of his kind, but that the dwarf Hargrim Ironheart actually ran the whole place. Hargrim was not only in charge, but he was building onto his own fortress within a great human city. Hargrim was also willing to teach Karlin the craft as he assisted with the labor. It seemed the Lodge members were a great judge of character and leadership, a good place for a dwarf.
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Lars
Ecclesia


Joined: 18 Jan 2010
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PostPosted: Sat Jan 23, 2010 12:27 am    Post subject: Reply to Karlin Reply with quote

LOL thats priceless! hargrims got a roadie.
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Lars
Ecclesia


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Location: Belton, Mo

PostPosted: Sat Jan 23, 2010 1:21 am    Post subject: Ned Baxter Reply with quote

Ned Baxter

Human male Age: 25
Ht 5’10” Wt 160 Eyes: blue hair: long brown colored, parted in the center to the sides and worn shoulder length
Plane: Celestium – love/ jealousy God: Kithain - compassionate


Ever met one of those animals that just wasn’t worth a copper bit , but when that one kids around they seem like a young champion again? That’s the way Betsie was. She was the oldest mare in the universe for sure, but when that young boy next farm over was around she was up and running like a yearling. His name was Ned, a goof of a boy.

He was nothing special to look at. He was kind of average looking really. But he had a way with horses that just wasn’t normal. As soon as his scent hit old Betsie’s nostrils her ears would flick back and her nostrils would flare. She knew in just a few moments young Ned would be here and they would be off to the lower pasture to slay all those imaginary monsters in Ned’s head. Betsie lived to be 32 years old, not a bad age for an old farm horse like her. After her death Ned stop coming by.

He took a job on a ship as a cargo handler and traveled the world some. Here he learned the fine art of evading the older sailor’s fists. There was nothing worse in Ned’s mind than getting cornered into an unnecessary fight. He wasn’t actually a coward, he’d fight if he had too, but he did prefer to just slide out at the first convenient time and let the others who seemed to like brawling take care of the rough stuff.

After a few years of traveling the ship routes Ned made his debut in the overland loads business. He started as an assistant driver/ wheelwright position. Soon the drivers noticed he had a great touch the horses and he was caring for the teams as a full fledged ostler. This grew boring fast though, as Ned really enjoyed the open roads. Traveling had become his way of life.

Ned made many “friends” in his travels, well more like business contacts along the trade routes. None of them are particularly drawn to him, but he’s such a darn nice guy you can’t not like him. He always has a friendly word for everyone, as he just can’t bring himself to hate anyone.

He carried a sling forever on the farm and it served him well on ship to launch notes to the sailors in the birds nest. He’s not a bad shot with it really, and actually enjoys trouncing the occasional rock pile or stick monster still when no one else is about. But he just can’t get the same joy out of using it on a live creature or person.

One day he was traveling through Llesendor and he saw some men carrying lots of gear from a wagon down the street to a store. He asked why they didn’t just have the horse pull the wagon and all of them said it was too dumb an animal to take commands. Ned walked over, took the reins and led it straight way to the shop. The men spoke to each other in whispers, which didn’t ease Ned’s nerves any then asked him to follow them. They led him to a large manor house with lots of men from various races. One was helping load the wagon back up. He was an immense beast of a man named bahg, they said he was an ogre but Ned had never known one before.

Ned was taken before a council and asked to enlist in this order of the bronze knights as a fulltime teamster for the order. Oh joys he thought, a fine new job doing what I love and all these new friends to talk to. Little did he know that he was no sooner selected that a large lizard guy named razz would volunteer him to go on some super dangerous mission to get some secret lockets or something back (the lodge badges actually). How do you argue with a seven foot lizard with a maul and really mean looking eyes. Besides, razz looked rather hungry and Ned was looking a bit bloated and well fed. At least to Ned’s standards.

Well things haven’t changed much. Ned teams the wagon and they keep making him travel to weird places. He hardly ever gets to take the main trade routes. He keeps telling them trades better in these areas and they just keep ignoring him, always seeming to find a scuffle or two along the way. We won’t ever make a big profit at this rate. Oh well they are the bosses, it’s their company although it’s not like any other trade company he’s ever worked for.
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Rex
Strategoi


Joined: 02 Nov 2009
Posts: 58
Location: Belton, Missouri

PostPosted: Sat Jan 23, 2010 11:12 pm    Post subject: Orwyn Keth Reply with quote

I'm not quite the storyteller Lars is but here is one of my characters.

Orwyn Keth; Human, 20 yrs old, 6ft, 230 lbs, Tanned, Jet Black hair worn in a single braid, Grey eyes.
Born under the Influence of Zuul and the Inferno

I am the youngest of 3 sons born to Garvin and Tara Keth. Garvin runs a profitable Farrier business just outside the stockyards of Llesendor’s Trade district. Tara is a proficient leatherworker that specializes in tack and saddles. It did not take long for me to become adept at working leather. Blacksmithing was another story. With 2 other brothers learning the craft ahead of me most of my time in the smithy was spent pumping bellows and performing all the heavy hammering. Seeing that I had little chance to take over the business I turned my attention to leatherworking. By the time I was 16 I was much larger and stronger than my brothers. After many years of relentless teasing and getting ruffed up by my brothers I finally evened up the score. My brothers found I was not so easy to push around. When it was over one had broken ribs the other a broken arm, both lay unconscious on the floor of the smithy. My father was not pleased. He demanded I perform the work they both would have done if they were not injured. I refused telling him they got what they deserved. This infuriated him and he advanced to strike me. His blow never landed. In what seemed an instinctive reaction, I landed 2 fists. He stopped his attack wiped the blood from his nose and told me to leave. I gathered my belongings and said goodbye to mother.
Over the last four years running the streets of Llesendor occupied most of the free time I had. Although I tried to keep out of trouble it seemed to have a knack of finding me. After several brutal brawling events I spent more time outside of the walls of the city hunting and fishing. Well cured skins and fresh game provided me enough coin to find a small place to live and some left over for the Green Dragon Inn (don’t know where this name came from). It was here I first became acquainted with Sir Morgan Verona, cousin to the Lady Ashleigh Verona ruler of Llesendor and a Lieutenant in the Guard. He and a few of his friends would crowd around a couple of tables in a corner and eat, drink and watch the entertainment. Several times I was the entertainment. Occasionally a patron would wear down my patience or go too far with a server and the fight was on. I was taken in by the guard several times but released soon after. Just recently I found that it was Sir Morgan that secured my release and I wonder now if he had anything to do with my invitation to the Order of the Bronze Knight. While my grandfather was alive he told fantastic stories of the Knights. Several years ago they just ceased to exist. Many rumors circulated around Llesendor of their demise.
A retired sergeant, Eldon Blackledge from Llesendors guard sat next to me one day in the Green Dragon. He offered to train me in weapon and armor use. I asked what it would cost me Eldon said it was taken care of. After I completed my training I was preparing to enlist in Sir Veronas battalion when I received my invitation to join the Order of the Bronze Knight. I was torn between a new found loyalty to Sir Verona and the chance to join the order I heard about in my youth. One night in the Green Dragon I approached Lt. Veronas table and asked for a moment of his time. He asked his associates for a little privacy and I asked his advice on my situation. He told me that he heard my training went well and it could be put to use in the Order. I still think he was involved in my membership in the Order but he has never confirmed it. The next day I packed up my belongings and headed for the Lodge.
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Lars
Ecclesia


Joined: 18 Jan 2010
Posts: 9
Location: Belton, Mo

PostPosted: Sun Jan 24, 2010 1:12 pm    Post subject: reply to Rex Reply with quote

rex said "I'm not quite the storyteller Lars is but here is one of my characters."

That could be taken a few ways, heh, good thing ive know you so long, lol

nice story though
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Rasfrasen
Lodge of the Bronze Knight
Lodge of the Bronze Knight


Joined: 02 Nov 2009
Posts: 89

PostPosted: Sun Jan 24, 2010 3:59 pm    Post subject: Binklesnirt Hammerspike Reply with quote

Bink's family had been miners and gemcutters for generations, hundreds of years of tradition. Bink, however, wasn't interested in mining, his passion lay with books and languages and magic! When he was 5 years old he had already mastered 2 languages, showing great promise. They were not a poor family by any means and hired a tutor for him. They were lucky in their choice beyond measure. The tutor was an old wizard, mascarading as a local sage. He used his library to teach Bink many languages, and discovered Bink had a talent for illumination, the art of, well drawing fancy letters...heh
He set Bink to translating and copying various books, throwing in a basic spell book to see how Bink would react. At first Bink didn't realize what he was looking at, but soon the light dawned, magic! The old tutor exacted a promise of secrecy from Bink and began his lessons as a wizard. Fifteen years passed and the old man (who seemingly hadn't aged a day) told Bink it was time for him to move on. He handed Bink a letter, a box and a book. It was his first book of spells, a letter from the Lodge of the Bronze Knight (whatever that was), and a small magical medallion (from the box). Bink read the letter and took his masters suggestion to follow up on it. He then bid his family fairwell and headed out into the world. Always careful to conceal his magical abilities, he made his way translating and copying texts until he reached Llsendor. His experiences there should be most enlightening.
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