Many Questions have been solved, Many Questions are as of yet unanswered. It is now clear that the Attack on Brindol was not some random raid but had a purpose. Was it really as simple as reuniting the red hand or was more at stake? Was Sinruth being groomed for greater things or was he just an unwilling pawn in some greater schema? Who is the Emissary? What is the Emissary? Is there even an emissary at all? If there is, does he prefer apples or oranges?
Ah but it seems like you have time to ponder these these questions as the past month and a half has been unexpectedly quiet. Work is almost complete on the repairs to the city. The dead have been buried and people have moved on with their lives. And you have been doing well for yourselves with your new found fame.
You knew it could never last. Something unsettling has been nagging at the back of your mind. You try to go on with your daily life, like you did before the attack but ….... but your not sure what.
You made your choice, you went to Rivenroar, you rescued the hostages and now your life in inevitably tangled up in the threads of fate. You are being pulled steadily onwards towards some unknown goal with no way of escape in site. Soon you will leave you home, traveling on to your next great adventure at
The Siege of Bordrin's Watch
If only you had taken the blue pill.
Showing posts with label Scales of War. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scales of War. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
A Troubleing letter
Well perhaps this should have been poasted first but i guess a Prequel will have to do.
Sinruth was a hobgoblin with greater aspirations than a life spent preying on the fringes of civilization. He listened closely at the campfires when his fathers and uncles told tales of the Red Hand of Doom, a mighty army that ran across the land like a scythe. And when he became an adult and a leader of his own band of hobgoblins, he found a cache of tunics and weapons left behind by that army. Sinruth felt his destiny calling. He declared himself the new Warlord of Sinruth’s Hand (as he named the group), emblazoned every possible surface with a crudely painted, downward thrusting red hand insignia, and set about recruiting the massive army that he felt was his birthright.
But starting an army isn’t as easy as those campfire
tales led Sinruth to believe. Years passed with Sinruth’s band eking out a meager existence in the wilderness. But slowly, he started to gain allies. A temporary bargain with some sinister, mischievous gnomes blossomed into a lasting friendship. The Red Hand’s exploration of the mountains unearthed some undisturbed catacombs beneath the long-ruined Castle Rivenroar. Sinruth struck another bargain, and the undead guardians let the Red Hand move in, in exchange for periodic payment of kidnapped prisoners.
And then The Letter
Power, Wealth, A Grand Army obeying his every desire! He would have it all, if anyone could bring back the glory days of the hand it would be him.
And now you know the rest of the story...............or do you?
Sinruth was a hobgoblin with greater aspirations than a life spent preying on the fringes of civilization. He listened closely at the campfires when his fathers and uncles told tales of the Red Hand of Doom, a mighty army that ran across the land like a scythe. And when he became an adult and a leader of his own band of hobgoblins, he found a cache of tunics and weapons left behind by that army. Sinruth felt his destiny calling. He declared himself the new Warlord of Sinruth’s Hand (as he named the group), emblazoned every possible surface with a crudely painted, downward thrusting red hand insignia, and set about recruiting the massive army that he felt was his birthright.
But starting an army isn’t as easy as those campfire
tales led Sinruth to believe. Years passed with Sinruth’s band eking out a meager existence in the wilderness. But slowly, he started to gain allies. A temporary bargain with some sinister, mischievous gnomes blossomed into a lasting friendship. The Red Hand’s exploration of the mountains unearthed some undisturbed catacombs beneath the long-ruined Castle Rivenroar. Sinruth struck another bargain, and the undead guardians let the Red Hand move in, in exchange for periodic payment of kidnapped prisoners.
And then The Letter
Brave Sinruth,
The Red Hand will rise again! The other remnants take great cheer in your recent attacks on commerce coming into The Blight That is Brindol.
We’re particularly pleased with your ability to inspire a fighting spirit in others, whether they have true goblin blood or merely wish they did. To be blunt, we think you should have many more soldiers under your command.
Many, many more.
And recent events have rendered some remnants leaderless. With a bold stroke on your part, the remnants would rally to the Red Hand you so proudly display.
As your bold stroke, do this: Attack the The Blight That is Brindol by night. Focus your efforts on their Hall of Great Valor, for it mocks the many hard-won victories by the first Red Hand of Doom. Take from them the spoils
of war they shamelessly hang on their walls and bring those antiques back to Rivenroar.
Do this before the moon is next full. And with regard to your previous question, turning over captives to your unliving allies at Rivenroar is perfectly acceptable. War sometimes makes strange bedfellows, and we appreciate
how you’ve united such disparate forces under your banner. Whatever prisoners you take from Rivenroar you can
give to the wight.
Fight with the valor of your ancestors, Sinruth. And keep your hands stained red with the blood of the weak! I will visit you again next month, at a time of my choosing.
The Emissary
Power, Wealth, A Grand Army obeying his every desire! He would have it all, if anyone could bring back the glory days of the hand it would be him.
And now you know the rest of the story...............or do you?
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Day 0 - Mead for all, Heroisim for some
Tuesday 10th of Freyja, 894 RM
What a wonderful day for a festival. The blossoms are in full bloom. The bees are buzzing around producing new honey for the coming year. Time to get rid of all the previous years store of mead ready for the new batches coming. Winter mead, golden liquid, bringer of life and drunkeness. The taverns have opened early this year. Already merrymakers are on the streets, and with good reason. People need time to relax. Already rumors of hobgoblins being seen in the borderlands are getting people unnerved. The reassurance of the Kartenix the guard captain of Brindol does not seem so reassuring. Memories of the attacks 10 years ago are still in the minds of the older residents.
5 Future Heroe's go about their daily routine. Shopping for new duds at Congo Red's Mead day sale. Preying to their favored god for the good fortunes of the coming year. Dreaming of famous battles with manticores and dragons. Patroleing the streets looking for pickpockets or marks. Drinking it up at the Antler and Thistle or any other of the many watering holes in the town. All unaware of the events that will unfold with the new day.
Rest well this night, for tomorrow you sail for the Kingdom of Daggerfall, i mean have nice completely uneventful dinner with your friends.
What a wonderful day for a festival. The blossoms are in full bloom. The bees are buzzing around producing new honey for the coming year. Time to get rid of all the previous years store of mead ready for the new batches coming. Winter mead, golden liquid, bringer of life and drunkeness. The taverns have opened early this year. Already merrymakers are on the streets, and with good reason. People need time to relax. Already rumors of hobgoblins being seen in the borderlands are getting people unnerved. The reassurance of the Kartenix the guard captain of Brindol does not seem so reassuring. Memories of the attacks 10 years ago are still in the minds of the older residents.
5 Future Heroe's go about their daily routine. Shopping for new duds at Congo Red's Mead day sale. Preying to their favored god for the good fortunes of the coming year. Dreaming of famous battles with manticores and dragons. Patroleing the streets looking for pickpockets or marks. Drinking it up at the Antler and Thistle or any other of the many watering holes in the town. All unaware of the events that will unfold with the new day.
Rest well this night, for tomorrow you sail for the Kingdom of Daggerfall, i mean have nice completely uneventful dinner with your friends.
SoW Part 1 - Rescue at Rivenroar
It is the year 894 in the age of mortals. The world stands now, bastions of civilization populate a dark, menacing world—islands of order and reason exist in a land otherwise overrun by dark cults, vile monsters, creatures from the dark edges of the imagination, and worse.
Elsir Vale
The vale stretches almost 250 miles east to west and averages about 70 miles north to south. Several small mountain ranges and dense forests form the vale's borders. The weather is temperate with warm summers and cold winters. One major highway connects the vale with towns to the east and west. Travel along the highway is sparse and well guarded when it occurs.
The vale has ridden out the years since the great war in relative peace, mostly because it has been ignored by the surrounding world. Small amounts of protected farmland are used to feed the vales population with a small ammount left for trade to surrounding cities. The primary form of trade in the vales is tulaberry wine from the tulaberry bushes that bloom in the foothills of the surrounding mountain ranges. Harvested once a year with armed guard, set to protect the workers from the monsters that inhabit the region. Honey is the other major export and is produced in large quantities from the flowering plants in the region. Many other exports exist
but in amounts too small to mention.
Ten years ago the vale was terrorized by a large army of hobgoblins and other goblin kin called the Red Hand. A great many people in the vale where slaughtered and the small towns that dot the vale are still rebuilding. The army was stopped in the town of Brindol where the residents made their last stand. The battle was won mostly due to the delaying tactics of a small group of adventurers who were in the vale at the time of the attacks. The war is still strong in peoples memories and the victory is one of the most important events in the vales history.
Want to know more ?
Elsir Vale
The vale stretches almost 250 miles east to west and averages about 70 miles north to south. Several small mountain ranges and dense forests form the vale's borders. The weather is temperate with warm summers and cold winters. One major highway connects the vale with towns to the east and west. Travel along the highway is sparse and well guarded when it occurs.
The vale has ridden out the years since the great war in relative peace, mostly because it has been ignored by the surrounding world. Small amounts of protected farmland are used to feed the vales population with a small ammount left for trade to surrounding cities. The primary form of trade in the vales is tulaberry wine from the tulaberry bushes that bloom in the foothills of the surrounding mountain ranges. Harvested once a year with armed guard, set to protect the workers from the monsters that inhabit the region. Honey is the other major export and is produced in large quantities from the flowering plants in the region. Many other exports exist
but in amounts too small to mention.
Ten years ago the vale was terrorized by a large army of hobgoblins and other goblin kin called the Red Hand. A great many people in the vale where slaughtered and the small towns that dot the vale are still rebuilding. The army was stopped in the town of Brindol where the residents made their last stand. The battle was won mostly due to the delaying tactics of a small group of adventurers who were in the vale at the time of the attacks. The war is still strong in peoples memories and the victory is one of the most important events in the vales history.
Want to know more ?
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