The Forgotten Wars Chronicle

Wednesday, 13 December 2006

Kal sat on the hillside above the camp, looking down upon the little black forms of soldiers preparing to move out for their first engagement with the enemy. Scout training had been intensive but enjoyable, trained away from other Black Legionnaires (the word sent a shiver of pride down his spine) his eager young mind lapping up every task and piece of knowledge available to him.

He’d removed himself from the camp on the pretext of going hunting. The men were in need of a hearty meal of venison or boar before they were back on iron rations and foul grog. Well hunting could wait; he had a more pressing task. He carefully drew the black cloth wrapped sword from his back and laid it on the grass before him. As he unbound the ebon greatsword he marvelled at its elegance and dark beautiful lines. The mockery of the other scouts who called it ‘The Weather Vein’ faded from his thoughts as he admired the immense blade. The Sentinel (as Kal had named it) was a truly majestic weapon and soon Kal thought it would be able to fulfil its purpose and be used in actual combat.

Soon, soon, oh so very soon.

Thoughts of family passed through his mind. A pang of guilt over his theft was overridden by his concern for the future. No matter his father’s anger the sword was better in Kal’s hands than hidden away in the trapped chest that had nearly killed him. Instinctively Kal rubbed his palm and remembered the utter agony that had coursed through his veins. The trap had very nearly taken his life, so to him the Sentinel was his through trial by ordeal.

Kal drew a small tightly wrapped crimson bundle from his backpack. Placing it carefully upon the prostrate blade he slowly and meticulously unwound layers of red cloth, until a stack of black backed cards with a silver star sigil were revealed. Kal passed each card from hand to hand, enjoying the vibrant painted scenes on each one. A sweet scent drifted up from the cloth and brought with it flood of memories. Kal smiled as he saw his mother dancing with carefree abandon around a campfire the scarlet headscarf contrasting with her jet-black hair. Other Velonai gypsies clapped, sang and accompanied the rhythmic twirling on their instruments. The memory comforted Kal as he meticulously refolded the scarf and returned it to his backpack.

Kal touched the deck and focused his thoughts as his mother had taught him. He wondered what his new squad members would be like. He’d trained with many different squads over the past eighteen months as a scout, sniper, or tracker. Would his new companions form a coherent force or a shambolic rabble? His mind concentrated on this question as he shuffled the cards. When satisfied he carefully turned the first one and placed it on the blade of The Sentinel.

The Bloodhawk – assess its foe from distance before striking with deadly accuracy.

Ah someone after my own nature perhaps, thought Kal? Well it seems that at least I will not be alone on the periphery of battle. I know he won’t be another scout so I wonder what their speciality will be? A good and auspicious start to proceedings, he mused as his hand went to the deck and plucked the next card. But as he did a second card fell onto the grass. Kal’s reaction was to return the wayward card to the pack, but he remembered the words of his mother “never interfere with fate, the cards themselves show the path, you merely walk upon it”. He withdrew his hand and turned the original card he’d placed down.

The Fool – Reckless and stupid, the fool disrupts and impedes.

Kal, as cautiously as if it were a viper, plucked the fallen card from the grass, turned it and placed it next to The Fool.

The General – a guiding hand with a pedigree that’s proven, demands respect.

Perplexed Kal was more careful with the next card, unsure as to how the previous ‘mistake’ had been made. With a cautious and steady hand he drew the next card and turned it over.

The Vorpal Blade – The arcane and martial form a deadly union.

An interesting squad member, perhaps a warmage or battlecaster? But such an individual would surely not be placed amongst grunts for such a straight forward seek and destroy mission. Intrigued by the meaning of the previous card, Kal’s brow furrowed as he was beginning to see this as a particularly unusual reading. Unsure if this was a good thing or not he turned the next card.

The Hermit – burnt by the company of others in the past, the Hermit sees more than most.

A wise man, pondered Kal confused, an odd addition to a squad of warriors. Perhaps it means an older more experienced legionnaire.

Still amused by the thought of a long bearded doddering crone in the front ranks his thoughts turned to the mission ahead, his first active combat since joining the Legion. A relatively straight forward search and destroy mission, in which local bandits would feel the wraith of the Legion. Kal’s hands closed around the cards as he began to focus his thoughts on the days ahead. Due to the unusual outcome of his previous reading he decided on a different technique. All cards would be dealt then revealed in turn. He laid all five cards out on the blade in front of him, taking a deep breath he turned each one in sequence.

The Oubliette – imprisoning, punishing, entrapping

Nimic Lord of Masks – deception, trickery and misleading

The Forge – All weapons are tempered by fire

Charon The Ferryman - The final journey

Leorn’s Coin – The coin flips and fate decides the outcome

Kal stared blankly at the cards laid out before him, all amusement and humour gone from his mind. This was not good, not good at all. According to his interpretation (and Kal prayed to Leorn he was wrong) death and betrayal seemed to be all that awaited him and his comrades in the non-descript mining village. But what could he do? Warn his new companions? Ha, he might as well walk to the stockade now. The Legion did not take kindly to troublemakers or those who seek to undermine morale. No, instead he’d keep his worries to himself, perhaps he was wrong, he’d never fully trusted his mother’s predictions when she visited him and besides who’d be foolish enough to anger the Black Legion.

In the back of his mind a faint and distant voice growled.

Oh there will be blood my friend, such as to strengthen your path and stain your soul.

posted by: Sheol at 10:51 | link | |

Tuesday, 28 November 2006

Dear Brothers,

I hope this message finds you in good health. After spending time with the villagers, and learning a great many things about these people, I came into contact with a pack calling themselves the Black Legion. Apparently these people band together and train in the art of war in order to defend what they believe to be just and true.

The idea of a group of people acting to accomplish a common goal piqued my interest, and subsequently I joined up. I have taken up arms with them, and I selected what I thought to be appropriate weaponry. It appears that my choice was a little unusual, but it has brought about many opportunities to interact with the Black Legion mercenaries. They even now refer to me as their comrade.

I have made close aquaintences with around five mercenaries. They appear to be honest on face value, but it is clear that a number of them have hidden talents, secrets and interests. One of them appears to have draconic heritage.

I have learnt a great many things in the time I have been with the Legion, and I have noticed that some of my talents have improved, and others have manifested themselves. It is difficult finding excuses to be alone in order to practice, but opportunities do present themselves.

I have been thoughtful about what we spoke of and I have been very careful not to reveal myself to anyone. I remember that should this happen, I would be forced to move on, and I am learning a great deal about humans and their ways.

posted by: Craggy at 12:08 | link | |

Sunday, 26 November 2006

Extract from the Diary of Rowlatt Nyes

It's dark now. Well, we are underground I s'pose. Like the middle of the night. Why does the sun always come out during the day and not at night when the light would be more useful? The whole world is just crazy like. I heard there's this magic ring that turns you indivisible. I mean, what good is that? People would still be able to see all your clothes running around. Stupid.
Anyway, I am in a dungeon. Today I proved that I am the best tracker in the world, all the others went the wrong way down some stupid secret passages and got beaten up by some big soily giant thing. I was ded worried at one point cos my best friend Valen almost got killed by it. It shot out a big rocky fist and squished him. It was funny actually because it left a big bloody, Valen shaped stain on the wall. I wouldn't have been lafffing if he'd bin killed though. He's coming with me all the way to the top!
The others are getting on my nerves though. Caltrop is a right stroppy bleeder. There was this big jelly thing attacking us - it nearly got me once - so I had the bright idea of chucking rocks at it. Anyway off he goes, running away I think, but luckily Valen spotted him and stopped him. Anyway, he tried to get away again by chucking loads of spiders on Valen but they got on him too. Then he picks up a rock to make it look like he waws actually doing anything and brought it too me. Well, you've never seen a more rubbish rock! All on fire and covered in spiders. Needless to say it didn't do a bit of damage. Some people!
What is it with dungeons? They just make me hungry. First we had a chamber full of mushrooms and then a jelly monster! Even the spiders smelled pretty good as they roasted. Kind of chickeny...
I got a new axe, Gorgoths Bane, from this statue thing. I wanted this big crossbow thing but it vanished just before I had chance to grab it. All the others were sitting and praying so I thought they didn't want it. Oh well, the axe is pretty good. I've been practising while the others rest. I'm getting pretty good. It makes up for the gunpowder the others wouldn't let me have. We set a barrell up and BOOM! blew up a door. And another door. And a falling block trap. And another trapped room. It was ace actually, but I tried to maintain my proffesss..professy...military air. I know gunpowder is a dangerous thing but it was in a barell for flips sake! I'm not going to light it while I'm carrying it am I? I'm not stupid!
Anyway, everyone else is preparing to leave so I'd best sign off. We only got here because I found the passage first. All the trouble happened down the other way. The CO Parafin, was very keen for everyone to head that way. Right into danger. Very odd it is too. I'll be keeping a close eye on him. He's a Mercenary and my Dad alway says to never trust a Mercenary.
Rowlatt Nyes signing off.

posted by: PresidentNice at 08:46 | link | |

Saturday, 25 November 2006

Personal Journal

2nd Squad, 'led' by Tarathyn Vale, successfully achieved insertion into the target zone and, once we had overcome our unfamiliarity with the terrain, a nest of spiders and a creature, that I know from my reading to be a Gray Ooze, which were disturbed by our passing, we made swift progress. However, our procession towards the Bandits' stronghold was allayed by a rewarding distraction, my discovery of a hidden complex of magnificent tunnels; lost to, or abandoned by, their Dundorin crafters, though not, to my regret, yet forsaken by their ancient guardian. Though Kallstrom devastated the Elemental warden with a combination of majestic techniques while I defended myself through a previously untested equation (twisting and bending the weave within itself to simultaneously execute two formula) I received an abrupt, brutal taste of my own mortality. It will be days until I am free of the morbid flavour. Oerdane be praised for guiding the Squad in their subsequent neutralization of the threat.

Our labours were not fruitless. Within the exquisitely excavated halls, amongst the meticulously sculpted likenesses of the Dundorin Gods and the beautiful symmetry of the carved stone, we discovered enough gunpowder to send Drujog's fortress sliding down the mountain into the valley below and an axe with magical properties, the latter coming in answer to a prayer, spoken at the feet of Thorduin himself! It is truly lamentable that a prize received through such divine grace should find itself into the hands of the least worthy recipient; Rowlatt.

While Fleet, by his quick wits and bravery, did much to reverse my reservations, the inept highborn achieved far more in heightening our collective anxiety than he managed towards accomplishing our shared objectives. Maybe he will learn. One can only postulate what encouragement our enemies will take from the sight of the dysfunctional flesh rack, caught in perpetual conflict between flight and the fight.

Perhaps it is part of some grand divine calculation that 2nd Squad should be compensated for such liability by the timely arrival of a competent companion; joined as we were, before the onset of our mission, by Eorwin - a specialist from Mace Company. From what I have observed, I am confident that she is Draconic in nature; drawing on heritage and the mastery of ancient patterns within the weave to impressive effect. It is, of course, possible that I have reached my conclusion to the exclusion of significant, unconsidered, possibilities, but I am confident my hypothesis is sound. Perhaps devising a test for this hypothesis will provide an entertaining distraction from Rowlatt's incessant whine.

Still I feel my mastery of the numbers grow. In following exploratory hypotheses I have resolved two significant equations and unlocked the truths - the formula - therein. Oerdane be praised for guiding me in pursuit of the Math! May her truth recur eternally!

posted by: Takeshi at 23:57 | link | |

Personal Journal

The mission has been a partial success. While 2nd Squad Scourge Company A Platoon defeated a large band of the Brigands we were sent in pursuit of, their leader, a formidable creature known to us as Drujog, affected a successful retreat.

Though I’ve yet to satisfy the necessary bureaucratic measures to hold rank and prevent the casualties we endured through intelligent strategy, I managed to keep together a small group of recruits throughout the fray and neutralized a significant number of the foes while skirmishing from cover. My investigations into the calculus of the weave bore impressive proofs, I eagerly anticipate learning where my further experimentation takes me.

While my companions are a predominantly mindless and pathetic bunch, two have risen above the disdain, Kallstrom and Shianna; it is hard to imagine how the Squad would have survived until my interventions had their eyes not be so sharp nor their aims so true.

Command has located Drujog; he has fallen back to a fort, a Dundorin stronghold of old. We are to affect an extraction while also allowing the main allied force access by destroying the fortress’ infrastructure. I expect promotion or burial will surely follow.

posted by: Takeshi at 18:43 | link | |

Holy Mother,

I trust this correspondence finds you well, it is the last you will receive from me.

From the paucity of pursuit it is obvious that my departure, while a shock I’m sure, was not an unwelcome one. I can only hope that you are adjusting to the burden of your loss. No doubt those cloistered within the Great Library share your desolation and woe at the prospect of never again beholding their little angel.

It may interest you to know that despite your pious and short-sighted reservations my calculations have finally taken me to the heart of the weave, as I predicted. Daily my understanding grows. I have found good use for my new talents in the Black Legion, where the disdain in which I’m held has made for sweet relief from the self-deluded philanthropy of your cloying attendance.

Vai’Alir

posted by: Takeshi at 18:39 | link | |

Thursday, 18 May 2006

Vahn's story - By Sian

As he led his current group of fighters to their assigned battle, Lance-Corporal Vahn Carrandael muttered under his breath. “Stupid, jumped-up, poxy, half-breed, poncy aelwyn…”. There was little love between the Lance-Corporal and his commanding officer, but this was really going a little too far. The two pronged attack, of which he was allegedly overseeing the weaker, seemed like veritable suicide. Archers a plenty and more of those creatures identified as Urgorr’Gorgoths were to be expected, and to make matters worse, the rabble of fighters he had been placed in charge of were pitiable at best. He had lost many good men and women to hideous, undeserving deaths that very morning, and this bunch of upstarts couldn’t organise themselves without the apparent aid of his Corporal… If August and his re-enforcements hadn’t shown up when they did… Well the thought just didn’t bear thinking about. It was enough to make Vahn start grumbling curses to himself once again.

He surveyed his squad’s position. The scout, the woman and the creature that had proven itself to be exceedingly disrespectful had concealed themselves upon the roof of the building above the corridor he and the rest of his men were arrayed in. So far so good, a begrudging nod of approval escaped him. The woman, raised her rifle, pulled the trigger… Vahn was still around the corner, out of sight of the enemy, but the resulting roar of surprise lent to the impression that the shot must have been a good one.

And so the battle began.

Within seconds, a plethora of arrows hurtled into the roof, in an attempt to dislodge the clandestine sniper. Vahn, in preparation of the inevitable onslaught of Urgorr’Gorgoths, pulled out his remaining Haste potion, carefully removed the cap, and downed the contents of the bottle. Immediately, he felt a warmth flood him, and he noticed the subtlety of every movement being made by those around him. Moments later he was confronted with one of the hideous beasts he was coming to dread. He swung his long sword into position, lashed out twice, but his failure to compensate for the new swiftness in his limbs made his aim go awry and neither attack connected. The creature retaliated, but not hard enough to cause Vahn any actual harm, and he was just about to attack again when a blinding light of colour extended from the roof, encompassing the Urgorr’Gorgoth and his cohorts. They reeled, stunned by the intensity of the magic attack that had been exacted on them. “Looks likes things could actually go our way” Vahn thought to himself, as he grabbed the closest enemy and hurled him into the nearby pit.

With their toughest adversaries taken care of, he decided the time was right for a full on charge at the archers, to try and dispatch them quickly instead of waiting around while the continuing onslaughts of arrows took its toll on his squad. “RIGHT MEN, ON MY COMMAND…. CHARGE!” he bellowed out and left the cover of the wall. Smoke poured across the road, obscuring his vision, but hearing the footsteps of his troop behind him, Vahn courageously ran on, the Haste potion allowing him to run more quickly than he was normally able…

What followed was a slaughter of the archers. The majority of his group made it through the charge unscathed and wreaked a bloody vengeance upon the bandits, a fair portion of whom started fleeing when they realised that they stood no chance against such an organised assault.

Vahn surveyed the scene and felt an improbably satisfying delight at all his men’s achievement. “Huh,” he thought, “who would have known that such a bunch of useless wastes of space could rally around and overcome such odds. Maybe there’s hope for them yet”

posted by: Sheol at 14:05 | link | |

Monday, 15 May 2006

15th day, 7th moon 9078.

Dear Mum & Dad,
Y’alright? I’m doing quite well today because we’ve just got back from our first mission as a squad. I know I disappointed you by failing my officers exams but I know I’m good enough to make my way through the ranks, just like you did Dad, and one day I’ll be a General too. Anyway, it was quite scary being out in the field for the first time. All them things they tell ya about at training get forgotten quick I can tell ya. I dint know what to do really at first but I pretty soon made my mark.
I am a part of the 2nd Squadron of Scourge Company’s A Platoon. My commander is Corporal Adamoz Kesper (dunno if I spelled that right - do you know him Dad?), and his LC is called Lucien Vade. He’s dead good he is, really inspiring. There are a few people with me who I was in training with. This funny looking fella with big ears called Valen or summat, dunno where he’s from but he’s a grumpy guts alright. I like him though and we get on really well. We have all sorts of banter going on. He calls me stupid all the time as a joke and we laugh. I helped him out in the middle of our big frak...freka...fracka...battle. I’ll come onto that in a bit. Then there’s this woman sniper who I think is called Shaney. She’s a bit intense and I think she has problems with her feet. All the other blokes keep going on about her getting some comfortable shoes. What’s the name of that shoeshop you go to Mum? Maybe she could get something there. Then there’s Ruth. Oh but she got killed. It was so sad cos she was all heroic like and killeded this bandit chief and we all cheered, but then in the next battle she got killed herself by this big horrible ogre thing. Luckily because I am so powerful and skilled with my daggers I managed to avenge her death and shot the brute with my pistol. I know you don’t approve of firearms Dad but they are my favourite weapons I think. I love my daggers though. In our first battle I was all like *shwoosh shwoosh* and killed at least ten bandits like a ninja. It was cool.
I was promoted to PFC for our next mission. I think this was a popular choice with the others and they soon started calling me “The General”. They all respect me so much Dad, it won’t be long before I get a permanent promotion. I had this one taken off me when we rejoined the company because unfortunately our real PFC hadn’t been killed. One day though I’ll make it and you can come to my parade and Dad can stop drinking. We’ll all be happy, even Robin, Tom and Goron. Then they’ll see that I am officer material. Stupid Goron, just cos I failed the exams.
I think I will get a promotion soon because in our last battle I lead the charge against this company of archers even though I got really badly injured by their arrows. I rushed through all this smoke and killed three or four of them before the others even managed to catch up to me. I was dead brave and the others were inspired by my corage...carage...bravery. That meant that the battle as a whole was won and victory was ours. Of course I had to be bandaged up and have a little rest which meant I missed out on some of the main fighting. I was a bit disappointed but I know my time will come.
I’m making some great friends here and I know we’ll all be okay as long as we’re together. We’re just like that group of brothers that formed there own squad and did everything together. You know the ones who all died in that big mountaintop battle? We’ll be just like that and I’ll be the leader because I’m so powerful. I’ll make my best friend Valen my second in command and we’ll have such fun.
Anyway I have to sign off now because we’re moving out soon. Hope this letter finds you well.

Your loving son,

PVT Rowlatt Nyes.

posted by: PresidentNice at 17:17 | link | |

Friday, 07 April 2006

Draconus Hearthbourne.
*******************
Has always been placed under tremendous pressure to succeed by his parents, esp his father. He's the youngest of three sons and has a lot to live up to, as they have always been high achievers.
He's about 6' tall and about 15 stone in weight. Quite stocky, but he moves quicker than his bulk suggests. He's not quick to smile, and he takes a while to befriend anyone. But when he does, he's loyal to a fault.
His training has instilled in him a need to follow orders, as he looks to others for guidance. This comes from his low confidence in his own abilities. A flaw that will need to be gotten over if he is to be as successful as his brothers....

posted by: brianscanlon at 13:22 | link | |

Tuesday, 04 April 2006

Realised when speaking to Brian the other night that some of you might not yet know that we have set a date for the first game.

It is SUNDAY, MAY 14TH, and will be at President Nices' house!

Look forwards to seeing you all there!

Arbel'Verdaniss and all associated intellectual property are Copywrited material owned by Sefton Redshaw. Dungeons and Dragons and D20 are trademarks of Wizards of the Coast. (I think that covers everything)Oh yeah, and the individual posts are owned by their writers...

Links

Counter