Frengo

Darkness and Light

Oglaff the Mighty

Somewhere in the forests north of Galuntrung Keep...

The storm had moved away an hour ago, and the life of the forest was returning. Birds began chirping in earnest, the flutter of insects buzzed through the low lying shrubbery and somewhere off the beaten trail, an elk whined. The vast woodland's interior was still dark though, and would remain so, thanks in most part to the think canopy.

Oglaff stopped to take the weight off his feet, and threw himself against an overturned tree. His bulk caused the rotted wood to creak and sink a little, but he paid it no heed. Instead, he cast cautious glances this way and that, as if expecting to be ambushed at any minute by whatever horrors lurked in such greenery.

But nothing was coming, and it never did.

The ancient barbarian despaired for the millionth time since setting foot on the civilized continent. He hadn't found so much as a starved bear that could give him an honorable death, and the heavy beating of his heart spoke volumes of how long he might've had left in the realm of the living. A month of traveling the wilds, and so far his only kills were a bunch of hares and rodents that he'd hunted for sustenance; though even they tasted limp and devoid of flavor compared with their cousins in Oglaff's homeland.

"So why did I come?" He mumbled to himself in the harsh tongue of his peoples, "to walk myself to death?"

Oglaff reached into a leather pouch fastened to his waist, and pulled forth a silver-handled hairbrush. The beauty tool wasn't his, but a woman's - a blind woman, no less. She was a civilized lass that he'd bumped into about four miles back the way he had come. She had herself a little farmstead just outside of the forest, but it turned out she wasn't alone, and that her father dwelt there too. However, she hadn't seen the old man since the day before, when he went out to hunt. She'd pretty much begged Oglaff to death for his assistance in the matter, and he reluctantly agreed.

The hairbrush was his payment.

"Oglaff the Collector," he groaned. "Oglaff the Hairbrusher. I bet the boys would be killing 'emselves laughing about this. A lifetime of battle and glory reduced to hairbrush funded mercenary work."

Still, he couldn't go back on his word; that would be heinous. He'd have to find that woman's father, for better or worse - and who knew, maybe some forest wolf would get lucky and kill him in the process. Wouldn't be the best way to go, but at this point the old warrior wasn't in much of a position to be picky.

And with that thought in mind, Oglaff heaved himself up, and looked around. His tired eyes fell upon trees, trees and yet more trees. There were no obvious signs of anyone having come that way, and he had no idea as to how he was even going to find the woman's father in a forest as big as the one he stood in.

There was only one thing for it, and with a heavy sigh, he stepped off the beaten trail and began forging a path through the vegetation to look for a button in a mountain of pebbles.

Darkness and Light

Huh, somehow I missed Titan's latest post. We must've gone for it at the same time yesterday and I never noticed.

My bad.

@Firetigress3, you've got 48 hours to get a post up, or I'll have to break off our interaction. No immediate hurry, but the quicker you can do it, the better. I don't want to leave the others hanging. Many thanks! :)

Darkness and Light

Kalar Splint, Chief Ranger of Galuntrung Keep.

Outskirts of Okly.

Kalar leased another arrow, his powerful arm operating the giant weapon with practiced savagery. The white feathered shaft flew through the air, arcing upwards, before finally falling onto a bandit who'd made the mistake of standing still. The man fell backwards, Kalar's arrow embedded in his neck. The Ranger Chief's eyes surveyed the massing carnage, as a dozen of his enemy lay in the mud, some squirming in agony, others as still as a plank of wood. His attack had scattered, but it had failed to break. Even now he could see the bandits and their comrades regrouping behind the cover of rubble, scorched wagons and gutted structures.

It would not be enough, but at least Adria had managed to back away from the Red Eyed Terror.

And then the all too familiar sound of a bow twanged from further away; Kalar caught a glimpse of Liara, who had skewered a bandit's hide from the flanks. He smiled, oddly joyed that she was unharmed, and confident that with her at his side, victory would become a distinct possibility.

"Horsemen," one of the Rangers cursed, fiddling for an arrow.

Kalar's head swung around, and he looked upon two knights charging his line, having seemingly appeared from nowhere. His heart fluttered for but a moment, until he saw the banner of the Kingsguard upon their silvery. "Not them, they're friendly," he yelled out.

The lead rider, an Elf, approached the Rangers. Kalar knew the warrior instantly, and he was relieved but disgusted in equal measure.

"Seems I've caught you at exactly the right moment, Splint," the Elf shouted over the rising chaos. "I trust we won't also be the aim of your fire?"

Kalar reached for another arrow, and refused to look the Elf in the face. "I'm heartened to see that the Crown sends its most noble warrior to assist the peoples in their darkest hour, White Scourge." He released the projectile, and drew another. "Whatever end awaits you wont be of my doing."

And then someone screamed - someone Kalar knew as intimately as his own hand. Jorg Egerson, one of the Galuntrung Ranger's founding members, and one of Kalar's best men, fell to his knees with a black shaft sticking through his rib cage. His leather-clad hands grasped at the wound, and then he fell forwards into the wet filth before him.

"If you have any ideas, Guardsman, now's the time to spout them," Kalar said, this time looking the White Scourge in the eyes. "We're out numbered and if we don't do something soon, there's a chance we'll be outfought. I hope you're better at killing than you are at glory seeking!"

Darkness and Light

@Cultural Titan

Yeah, I was going more for the fantastical barbarian, as opposed to someone on the wrong side of the Roman border. You know, think Conan, or Dungeons and Dragons/Path Finder/Diablo etc. They're normally large, masculine warriors that run around half naked and tear everything to pieces. Them guys.

Wait, hold on, let me get some literature.

"For some, there is only rage. In the ways of their people, in the fury of their passion, in the howl of battle, conflict is all these brutal souls know. Savages, hired muscle, masters of vicious martial techniques, they are not soldiers or professional warriors—they are the battle possessed, creatures of slaughter and spirits of war. Known as barbarians, these warmongers know little of training, preparation, or the rules of warfare; for them, only the moment exists, with the foes that stand before them and the knowledge that the next moment might hold their death. They possess a sixth sense in regard to danger and the endurance to weather all that might entail. These brutal warriors might rise from all walks of life, both civilized and savage, though whole societies embracing such philosophies roam the wild places of the world. Within barbarians storms the primal spirit of battle, and woe to those who face their rage." - From Path Finder wiki.

^ That's kind of what Oglaff is. He's definitely not a Thracian goat herder.

And don't worry about loading yourself with more work, you've got enough to do over in Okly. Oglaff will find his own way into the action.

---

Oh by the way, have you managed to contact Leslie, or any of the other missing players? Half the story has come to an abrupt halt, hasn't it? What are we going to do if they don't return? Sooner or later the cogs are gonna buckle and we'll need to do something about it.

Maybe best we cross that bridge when we get to it though, eh?

Darkness and Light

Alright, having thought about it, I think I'm going to drop the High Elf idea. It was only going to complicate things, and I feel bad for enforcing my will on others.

If anyone wants to take anything from what I've written for the High Elves, then they are free to indulge themselves.

So here's my second character. He's a nobody, but I should be able to use him to go on some adventures.

Oglaff the Mighty

Oglaff the Mighty

Appearance: Oglaff is seven feet tall, and a walking mountain of muscle. Scars and enlarged veins sprawl across his entire body to form the kind of grizzly masterpiece one can only craft with a long life spent in hardship and war. His skin is tanned, but weather beaten and almost scaly in appearance - telling onlookers that this man is no stranger to bearing the elements.

Rustled grey hair runs in thick strands from his scalp, and stretches across his shoulders. A beard, patchy in places where scar tissue has formed, blotches out the southern half of his face, and is longest around his chin. Cracked lips, and crooked white teeth (not all of which are there!) protrude from this hairy, scarred mass. Two menacing eyes of pale blue display constant scorn.

Age: 62

Gender: Male

Race: Human, Barbarian.

Race Description: Oglaff's people are a hardy race of barbarians, from across the great seas. They are physically imposing specimens, but hold no genetic advantage over other menfolk beyond a hardiness against the elements.

He wears little clothing, besides a leather groin covering (to hide his modesty from the womenfolk), and some robust marching boots. A thick but worn woolen green cloak is chained around his neck, and covers his back entirely.

Side: Neutral, Glory Seeker.

Weapons(s): Oglaff carries a giant bastard sword, named Widow Maker, and has a couple of throwing axes hooked around his belt. None of his weapons boast any particular unique qualities, but should an onlooker treat the man to a bucket of ale, then he'd be glad to give them an in depth account of Widow Maker's proud history.

Abilities/Powers: Berserker Strength - Oglaff comes from a warrior race of terrifying barbarians from across the great sea. Even in his advanced age, he is still capable of giving himself to bloodlust, which enhances his strength to fearsome proportions. He could literally rip a man in half with his bare hands, if he becomes "passionate" about any threatening situation.

Talent(s): Hardy - Rain, wind and snow mean little to this man. He has traveled the world in nothing but a loin cloth and a cloak for most of his life, and he isn't about to stop now. Only extreme temperatures (fire, for example) will effect him.

Personality: Oglaff is a macho, loud mouthed boaster - but he can at least back up his boasts with actions. He is fiercely competitive, and gleefully accepts any test that can be considered "manly". Whether this involves throwing big rocks further than the man next to him, or downing a whole barrel of ale in one hit, nothing is beyond Oglaff's lust for accomplishment.

Biography: Oglaff the Has Been, Oglaff the Grey Warrior.

That's what they started to call him, and such insults struck the aging barbarian's pride deep. Indeed, life for Oglaff was fast becoming unbearable. His friends had died years ago, in righteous combat. His children were dead too, having gave themselves willfully unto the blades of their enemies. But Oglaff? He was still there, still alive. Sixtytwo years of age! For a barbarian male, this was unheard of, it was shameful. The newer blood of his clan looked at him with disgust, rather than in awe.

It wasn't his fault though, that he was still alive. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried to die valiantly. He was just unlucky; it was always a comrade getting that lucky stray arrow in the face, and it was always his enemy that fell before him, no matter what their advantage was. He'd seen a hundred battles, killed more men then he could remember, and ploughed more wenches than he... well no, he remembered most of those quite fondly.

He had done it all, not once, but several times. He had become a legend amongst his people; Oglaff the Mighty, they had called him once upon a time.

But now he was old. His knees were starting to ache, his breath was starting to get heavy after a few hours march, and don't mention how hard pissing had become! Like pushing a stone through the head of a needle!

To be taken by the Great Reaper in sleep is perhaps the biggest shame of all in the culture of Oglaff's people, and this is a sin he was not ready to commit. He hopped the first ship off the continent, to get away from those who mocked him, and to find his demise in some foreign land where no beast nor man would know of his shame.

So as the ship, a merchant vessel from across the great sea, pulled into Frennstone, Oglaff dutifully glugged a skin of spirit and set off into the streets - a wolf among sheep - to find his end.

Extras: Not sure where he will start yet, as Frennstone is miles away from anything of interest. His story may well start as much as a month after his arrival in the Kingdom, and place outside some haunted ruin or something. Anyone seeking a D&D style mini-side story is welcome to tag along.

Look good?

Darkness and Light

@Firetigress3 I think having the differing races of Elves would be the way to go; the High Elves I've written about are directly descended/survivors of Elvendom (a name I decided to give whatever great nation the Elves had many centuries ago), and could be said to be "pure breed". That is to say, they differ slightly from their other kin, in that they are immortal - or live much longer than lesser breeds. That would make things more in line with my thinking, but I'd have to consult Titan for his opinion.

So getting onto Kyssoun's tribe and his origins, let's look at what you've put:

"Khyssoun was born in the forest to two mid-ranking elves of the Syranthr Tribe in the local forests. It wasn't a large tribe, but they managed well on their own without relying too much on the help of outsiders. They were skilled at farming and traded with the humans for clothes and other supplies they needed, depending on the season. He helped in the field, and when he wasn't, he attended a rag-tag "school" led by a well-traveled elf. Otherwise, he would train with some of the village elders in the healing arts."

I took this to mean that his tribe was small, and could have existed in any of the woodland areas across the Kingdom (or even off the map, for all that is mentioned). I guessed from this that you meant he was possibly a Wood Elf, or just an ordinary Elf. It could be argued therefore, that his peoples are descended from other survivors from The Great Fall, and have simply chosen to stay clear of Silverspire... or perhaps they had nothing to do with Elvendom, and are an entirely different sub-species altogether that have lived on their land for generations.

Silverspire is an actual Kingdom, a coherent political body with a history of isolation. I decided to make them High Elves because it left room for your Elf, should he ever seek to rediscover his heritage, to elaborate more/invent his own sub race. I thought it might make for an interesting interaction, if the High Elves were to bump into them or if they tried to "bring them back into the fold". I think Khyssoun would hate them personally, for he seems fully indulged in mortal pleasures.

Anywho, with all that said, if Khyssoun's tribe have indeed originated from Silverspire, then that's fine, and we can ignore the whole High Elf suggestion. You were there first, and I'm certainly not going to go stomping on anyone's feet.

Hey, if this idea doesn't go through, there's plenty of other ideas I can pursue - but I do have my heart set on creating a second character, so that I have something to do when Kalar is waiting his turn.

Darkness and Light

I always looked at elves in a d&d fashion. Which I don't think is -that- different :p

@IcePezz

Yeah, they're the ones that mature quickly (physically at 25 years, mentally at 125, apparently), but they only live for a few centuries. Other than that, they're pretty much the same. Graceful, beautiful and seemingly arrogant towards lesser-spanned races. Blah blah blah.

Darkness and Light

Hmmmmmmm .... I always hated elves, and high elves were always so snooty :p. I played a half high elf once though, that was fun. Not sure what role I could take on, but I'm game if Titan allows it.

@IcePezz

Yeah I never play as them, but Firetigress3's character pointed out to me that Silverspire hasn't got any lore going on... so I started writing some lore for it, gave up, and made a fully fledged character instead. Oups.

I mean, an Elven Kingdom in the south should hold some significance to the overarching plot, right? The Crown is going to need allies, and who better than a bunch of snobby and reclusive High Elves?

Also, Shadowsong Forest looks like the perfect place to establish some kind of evil presence, such as giant spiders or evil sock puppets running rampant.

And hey, if you don't like Elves, I'm sure there's room for a "human ambassador", who could play an extremely important part. You know, a human that has been allowed to live with the Elves, and who handles their diplomacy with Oakoarth so that they don't have to meet the mortals face to face. I unno, just brainstorming, but we could figure something out no problem.

EDIT:

@Cultural Titan Yeah, when I think Elves I always think traditional LOTR versions. You know, the ones that liver forever and that mature quickly. To make things easier, I'll base the High Elves more along the lines of what Firetigress3 has written... just real slowly aging humans, from what I gather. Though I better await some confirmation.

Might need to make the High King older too.

As for his weapon... yeah I forgot you still used my sword. The "magical cut through normal stuff" weapon is my go-to-choice, so I'll revisit that and make something else.

As for their entry into the RP, I've got a beautiful idea that should work a treat, but I'll talk to you more about it once I've worked all the creases out of the sheet.

SECOND EDIT: Huh, looks like LOTR Elves reach maturity after 150 years. Shows what I know.

Darkness and Light

Meanwhile, in the south of the Kingdom...

High King Galather Whiteguard

Name: High King Galather Whiteguard

Appearance: Galather is tall for his race, with a very slender build. His arms and legs, though thin and fragile in girth, are extensively toned and possess no blemishes. His skin is the color of a pale morning sky, and his long golden hair shines as bright as burnished steel. He has a long, sharp nose, and an angular jaw; his grey eyes are slanted and narrow. No wrinkles or other sign of aging marr his appearance, much like most of his kin. Two pointed ears, approximately six inches in length, stick up vertically either side of his head.

He wears a light suit of mithril chainmail, which gleams fantastically no matter how obscured the sun may be, and gives him an ominous blue glow at night. A blue silken cloak with silver trim envelopes his form, obscuring his armaments and hands from view. A plain circlet, forged from dragon bone, rests carefully on his scalp.

Age: 4000 years, estimated.

Gender: Male

Race: High Elf, Silverspirian Breed.

Race Description

The High Elves are smaller in stature than men, but are nimble and quick on their feet. They are skilled warriors, but reclusive diplomats. Also, sorry for stealing Warhammer's appearance - I couldn't find anything better.

The High Elves of Silverspire are an offshoot from their much older, and more established kin. They first came into existence during the Great Fall, when Elvendom was sacked by the forces of darkness over a thousand years ago, causing a mass migration of the Elderborn. The High Elves fractured into several warring tribes, and with the legions of darkness close on their heels, they were scattered to the wind.

One band settled in the forested realm that is now known as Silverspire, and under the guidance of their reclusive king, Galather Whiteguard, they have kept themselves safe and secure in their forested bastions. In recent years however, having regained their strength, they have sought out diplomacy with the city of Oakoarth. A firm alliance has existed between the two political entities ever since, and trade is flourishing; however, the High King is reluctant to fully align himself with the wider human kingdom.

They specialize in the use of White Magic (detailed below), though only a tenth of the population is blessed with any real talent in its use. This has allowed for Silverspirian Mages to augment the kingdom's technological and military might.

The High King is considered the most gifted of all spellcasters in the Kingdom, and the average Silverspirian mage weighs in at around half his ability.

Side: Light

Weapons(s):

Elvendom's Wrath

The High King carries a halberd, a weapon of ancient origins and ancient powers. In appearnce, it is six feet long and made of solid gold; an emrald blade and spike form the weapon's fighting edge. Though it looks fragile, and merely a ceremonial trinket, Elvendom's Wrath is unbreakable by common means, and will cut through most non-enchanted armours with ease.

The real power behind Elvendom's Wrath however, is its ability to absorb hostile offensive spells of most Schools, and return them to the original caster with even more strength. This works with low to moderate spells, but it will not work against something more devastating. Instead, Elvendom's Wrath will simply absorb the spell and shatter, if it is unable to deflect it.

My Hider

Examples: If a mage was to shoot a fireball at the High King, he could block it with Elvendom's Wrath, and send it back in the mage's direction. The fireball would be burning brighter, and be more destructive than its original form.

It was forged by Taran'dol, the Elven smith that rose to prominence shortly before the Great Fall of Elvendom. His gift in weapon craft allowed him to develop the means the Elves desperately needed to turn the tide of battle against the endless legions of the Darkness. Once, hundreds of such halberds were wielded by the mightiest of Elves, but it is now believed that the Elvendom's Wrath is all that remains of such an armory.

Abilities/Powers:

High Elven - Possesses enhanced senses, such as better sight, hearing, taste and smell than an average human.

White Magic - Can call upon his life force and manifest it into arcane magic, allowing him to shoot magical bolts at his enemy, create force fields around himself and his peers and to summon beings of arcane origin to assist him. However, the greater the spell, the greater the toll taken on his life force; therefore, if he were to cast a powerful offensive or defensive spell, it would severely weaken his physical strength.

The time taken to recover from White Magic depends entirely on the strength of the spells used, and how often he used them. It is perfectly possible for him to accidentally kill himself if he gets carried away, although obviously he is more than aware of the risks, and often "calls it a day" once he senses his strength fading.

If he was to go "all out", it would take him days to recover, during which time he would be extremely vulnerable.

To give an idea of his magical strength, he could smash a formation of a hundred men and still have enough left in him to fight off moderate combatants. He could smash a formation of two hundred men, and collapse shortly after. So he's big and tough, but not unstoppable.

A Long Life - The High King is ancient, and with such a long and colorful life, comes experience in all things. Like many of his kind, he is an expert combatant with heightened reflexes. This wealth of experience allows him to outperform mortals in most things, but he is still restrained by the limitations of his body. In short, if a 1000 year old Galather went to battle with a 2000 year old Galather, the older one would likely win through experience and practice alone.

Talent(s): Legendary Fighter - Even among Elfkind, Galather is a fighter without equal. It would take gifted and equally skilled combatants to take him head on in a duel.

Personality: Galather is a kind Elf, full of compassion but he is marred by sorrow. The memories of his people's fall, the length of his life, the struggle he has constantly been going through to safeguard Silverspire's rise have all taken their toll. He could be described as "tired" at best, and "depressed" at worst.

Biography: When Elvendom was torn apart by the legions of Darkness, over a milienia ago, Galather was the first Elf Lord to disobey the High King and lead his people in retreat. Though this was a matter of treason and the utmost dishonesty on his part, his actions caused a rift between the Crown and its servants which possibly saved the entire High Elven race.

Other Elf Lords soon followed Galather's example, and Elvendom was abandoned to its fate. By this time, the armies of the Elderborn were all but shattered, and continued resistance was a futile effort. Galather realized more than anyone that the High Elves needed to retreat and recompose themselves into a renewed fighting force; however, this part of his plan was thwarted by infighting between himself and the other Elf Lords.

Instead, the High Elves became fractured, and split into minor factions. They fled to all corners of the globe, where they settled down into their various enclaves.

Galather led his peoples to Silverspire, and quickly established a foothold in the forested area. There, he and his kin stayed low, keeping themselves hidden from the roaming armies of darkness, and left the mortals to handle a war that the High Elves had already lost.

For a thousand years, Galather carefully nurtured the resurgence of his people. Mortals were often turned away from Silverspire, and sometimes, they were outright killed if it was believed they posed a risk. However, despite a few minor skirmishes with the neighbouring human kingdom throughout the centuries, Elf and Man have existed in relative peace.

The humans respected the Elves' wish to be left alone, and the Elves respected the humans' rights to the world at large.

However, Silverspire has now become an emerging power. A population of a few hundred has transformed into a population of tens of thousands; the High Elves are set for a cautious return to the world.

A few years ago, the High King sent delegations to Oakoarth to open diplomatic ties with the human kingdom. Trade has flourished between the city and Silverspire ever since, however Galather has so far declined any further interactions. He is cautious, and does not want to get too deeply involved with the mortals, for he sees them as unpredictable at best, and dangerous at worst. Still, Silverspire cannot continue to progress without outside interactions, and so for now he tolerates the existing trade agreements.

This however, is all about to change...

Extras:

Can I keep him? Please? PRETTY PLEASE!? You know I wont ruin anything; I'd just like to be able to write more when Kalar's waiting for y'all responses. This RP has become my passion, kinda.

And hey, if someone wants to come with me, there's plenty to be going on.

If accepted, I'll hash out my plans with Titan to ensure nothing breaks.

EDIT: Sorry, I know this is all terribly forwards of me, and the introduction of another potentially major faction may complicate things. Therefore I fully respect Titan's refusal to accept the High Elves into existence. I enjoyed writing it all, to be honest, and it's good practice for me, so no hard feelings :)

I'm also more than open to dampening them down into something less dramatic, and White Magic can be revisited if needed. I'm still determining how strong the Mages might be, though I plan for the High King to be the pinnacle of the Kingdom's magical strengths.

Darkness and Light

@Absolis These sound traps you speak of, how long do they last? Will the rangers and knights accidentally run into them? Can they be resisted?

@Firetigress3 Pardon me saying, but your character sounds like he's a bit of a dodgy fellah. An Elf with a taste for power, blackjack and hookers. Three generations of Royalty? He's going to be rather well known then, as well as his exploits. I'm sure Kalar will begrudge him thoroughly.

He could have at least brought more than himself and Mr. Brom to the battle!

@Cultural Titan You're up buddy, let me know what your banditos and tacos are doing about the craziest day of their lives.

Good posts everyone, I'm glad we've been able to keep this RP alive and well despite a few mysterious disappearances and possible kidnappings.