PLAYER BLURBS.
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Magnus decided to visit his new gained shires and wandered the lands of the Under World and his beloved dog "Grimworld Grimbreath" needed the walk. He was dressed in a dark blue robe with the cowl drawn deep into his face. Nobody would recognize him. He began his visit in the surrounding areas of Blackrock and then extended them to the Caverns of Gilotot, whose huge caverns were illuminated by thousands of glow worms clinging to the walls. A truly amazing sight. The unnamed land of an ascending shaft, leading to the upper plane, which he decided not to visit. He didnt like the sunlight, and there was no need to push himself. Continuing his journey he saw the tragic Tunnels of Tragedy, mining tunnels, that have been the site of numerous cave ins in the past. The Gaylard Caves, rich in resources and rich in dwarves mining for these.
Even the Caverns of the Purple Flame he saw and the monstrous beings that lived in the center of it. Standing right in front of, but never being realized by them he studied their every move. Their shuffling behind formations of rock, their sniffling, preying for some poor fellow who perhaps got lost in this labyrith of rock. The Lava Legions. Well so they were called. Creatures that came right out of hells heart. He read the reports that were presented by the rangers. With fierce ranged attacks they have killed one of his men. One! Hatred rose inside him and he decided to do anything there had to be done to destroy these monsters. Not one dwarf should perish, who was not in war.
Magnus stood there...minutes...hours. Studying, observing, learning. He wished he could see them in action. Learn their combat moves and their chain of command, but nothing except their natural predatory behaviour was gained. Without a word he turned and began travelling back to Blackrock. These times called for blood to be shed. And it would be the blood of dwarves and much more of Lava Legions. One problem to be solved...the Lava Legions deadly ranged attacks. He needed archers. Archers needed bows and bows needed wood. A resource he had no access to, not to mention the buildings for it. But hope he had and faith too. He would trade the precious metals earth provided against the "gold" the woods gave. And then may the Lord be with them he would slay those creatures from hell without shedding a single tear and with a grim smile on his face. They started war and they would have it fought in their living room. One dwarf, one war. Two dwarves...
Apocalypse
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Contact Magnus the Red at wz@vienna.at
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Contact Solomon at scuxson@hotmail.com
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Contact Krad Sarmoth at rahlz@hotmail.com
Keeran Firemane strode listlessly down the corridor of the palace. Overhead the winds howled across Thunder Rift, but Bulls Canyon was secure in the gathering gloom of winter night. The last winter night, as it happened. Tomorrow was spring, and Keeran Firemane had awakened from his long sleep. Ah......springtime! Keeran felt a new stride come into his step. Sparks flew from his iron shod boots. An unfortunate or merely stupid kobold slave turned as he approached, startled to find that the minotaur king had suddenly picked up the pace. The hapless cleaner was unceremoniously kicked clean across the passage, crunching into a stone abutment and sliding to the floor. Behind Keeran a trickle of blood came from the kobold, and breathing stopped. Keeran would have seen the spirit depart, if in fact he could care less, which he didn't. Plenty more slaves where that came from. What he needed was a challenge. He was.......bored. That was the word. He savoured it again, rolled it off his long tongue. Bored. Bored, bored, BORED!! Chuntas Hightail approached. His advisor by choice, a seer whether he liked it or not; his dreams coming in sweat-soaked nightmare sleep, full of fire. Lately, he had begun to warn of a new menace. A name of which he had never heard, but Chuntas assured him it was a reality. "What is it, my loyal bull?" said Keeran. "Have you seen the date of the prey's coming?" Chuntas pulled back his lips from his bull's teeth in what passed for a nervous smile. He could not understand the foolish bravado of his lord, but feared him beyond criticism. "Yes, my lord bull, that I have. One year to this day. One precious year". Chuntas looked upward, to the lip of Thunder Rift. Lightning sparked across the now dark firmament. "My counsel is as before..we must venture into the outside world, claim what is ours and storm the fire lord's citadel before he can return. Destroy his body before the spirit can return.". Keeran pondered. Arragoth. Some kind of upstart son of a fire god. Keeran had always considered the gods overrated, myths in their own minds, sortafing. What this Arragoth would want from the Minotaurs was anyone's guess - not that he would get it. Keeran would happily send the thing back to the pit from which it had come. Perhaps it would kill a few stunties and tree-huggers before it went.... Keeran's nostrils flared at the thought of the precious, self-serving, arrogant, know-it-all, stuck-up, pedantic, boring, self-righteous, snooty, high-elven snobs. Stupid tree-huggin gits. Not the dark-elves...there was a race he could understand. The strongest prevailed. And Keeran was very, very strong indeed. At least, so he thought. Although, to his credit, the heads of a dozen minotaurs who had doubted this otherwise now decorated his lair. It was a rare minotaur indeed who could master the arts of magic as well as those of the sword. Perhaps it was time, he mused, for the minotaurs to be jolted out of their navel-gazing complacency. For a start, there were far too many kobold slaves cluttering up the palace with their wimpish presence. They would be the first out into the world to stake the minotaur claim. Unarmoured, unprepared for war, and still just as useless even if they HAD been trained, the kobolds would probably die. Which concerned him not a whit. He doubted even the kobold's own brood mothers would shed a tear. They would be the first wave, to pave the road for those to follow with their broken bodies. And those who followed would bring the enlightenment of minotaur rule to the Isles of Arragoth.
Contact Keeran Firemane at Ivanmc@xtra.co.nz
(An excerpt from the journals of Radagast the Brown) "...I did not lightly emerge from the seclusion of the sacred groves, nor easily set aside my life's work among the flora and fauna of the sacred groves. If Luceris have proved an able leader to the plains people in these dark times, I might have been there still, continuing my work of centuries, slowly fathoming the slow sap-song of the ancient Oak, or tracing the ancestry of a single flower back a thousand years. Instead, for reasons I could not quickly explain, I grew increasingly uneasy as the years passed. Eventually, after much thought, I took the necessary steps to divine the reason for my growing disquiet. I spoke to the sacred groves of my troubles. For a dozen years they searched the collective memories of their ancestral forests long dead, and for a dozen more they ruminated and debated their reply. Finally they were ready to speak. In a conversation that lasted from Spring until Autumn they told me of many things. Of the cycles of the sun, of the great warmings and coolings of the earth, of a mortal evil lodged quiescent deep in the core of the world, and of a great and impending doom to all in the lands of Arrogoth. I asked when this doom would fall. A month went by, then two. When the answer came I clutched myself in fright - a single cycle through the seasons was the time allotted to the mortals of this world, twelve short months to save their souls. Loosing no time, I dispatched messages to Luceris, leader of the plainsmen, warning him of the danger. I thought my duty done, the burden of these tidings shifted to one who would relish their challenge in a way I could not. I returned content to my solitary labors for a time. But I was to be disappointed. The Spring passed with little vigor evidenced by Luceris and his people. The plainsmen loved nature, and their fields grew heavy with the harvest. But they were too content in their plenty, too loath to strike out into the hard world to seek even their own salvation, let alone that of all their fellow mortals. As summer neared the decision was thrust upon me. Even the groves themselves were becoming slowly alarmed, the flowers refused to open on even the sunniest morning, and the rabbits and squirrels starved deep in their burrows in instinctive fear of the doom that lurked in the outside world, rather than venture out to gather the plentiful spring growth. With slow step did I walk the secret paths through the groves, out into the fields and on to the great city of Granola. With heavy heart did I confront the idle Luceris and cast him down. With every regret did I seize the plainsmen, and rudely shake the sloth from them, sending them scurrying this way and that, building, arming, searching, gathering, storing. My thoughts are ever with my brother trees and the quite and simple folk of the sacred groves. My hearts desire is nothing more that to return to them and never speak to another human soul for a thousand years. But I know now that this cannot be so. For our doom is fast upon us."
Contact Radagast the Brown at warren.mcintosh@chapmantripp.co.nz
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Contact EL ALAMO at tunmi@hotmail.com
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Contact Mercury at gunnahdo@alphalink.com.au
As i sit in my throne room in Castle of Trader's Point my advisors tell me this springs crops have produce ample food for our growing population.When i look out the Castle window i see much gold being made selling to the passing caravans that frequent Trader's Point. Today we celebrate the bountiful harvests with a feast to the Gods. Goats and sheep were sacrificed all citizens of the Kingdom came to eat, many songs were sung. People danced in the streets and children played games that generations of Dervish childrenhave played. We celebrated the construction of new building and of our armies conquest of new lands. The citizens praised Good King Aelrok for declaring open trade routes for all the peoples of Arragoth, ant and all are welcome.