We successfully managed to get our game on last night!
After a few shaky starts and lots of random peopling we did manage to actually have a bit of an RPG experience last night… And it was good.
The cast of characters:
Aryntha is playing Aryntha, a skunk with a dragon complex.
Rai is playing a very street-wise Elven druid of indeterminate agenda.
I’m playing a horse paladin named Aaron from another reality.
Lyon is playing one of his huge cat critters, named Ta’resh (we call him ‘T’) who’s a bit of a pacifist.
Maegan is playing a terminally bemused elven princess.
Scales is playing a feline warrior from another reality.
And we have two other folks I’m not familiar with who are playing two more elves.
So, I guess here is where we start the weekly chronicles of Aaron:
I have no basis for determining a date other than it seems to be summer…
It all started when two of my fellows from the Order and I were escaping our homeland which had been overrun. We had set sail with a crew aboard a pirate vessel and made for the mainland in order to escape the torture and death that seethed in the wake of our escape.
After a few days of sailing rough seas we were within sight of land when the vessel shook violently and cries of flooding came up from belowdecks. With a speed that was surprising the vessel sank off the coast and I was suddenly treading water with my worldly possessions strapped to my back and being drug under by the crashing waves.
I awoke on a beach near a walled city I had never seen before, populated with humans who had never seen anyone like me before and who treated me with the sort of aplomb one would associate with dray animals… I at once left this city with hopes to find another within a few days walk who would be both more friendly and hopefully somewhere I was familiar with… No such fortune I’m afraid.
After several months of traveling and trying to find somewhere I could call home in this strange land I found myself traversing an immense forest surrounding a well worn trade road of at least a week’s length between cities. About halfway along this road I came upon an elderly human who, with much effort, was tending a small garden outside of his home and, as I had no where to be with any speed, I stopped to see if I could assist him. His home was more of an inn or garrison building than the small home of a farmer and as I discovered it served as a halfway house along the trade road for anyone who needed it.
This frail and blind elderly human was relieved by my presence and over the following fall, winter, and spring I assisted him with his day-to-day existence as well as I could by tending his crops, repairing the inn, and making the week long round trips to the cities at either end of the trade road for supplies. The humans in the merchant’s quarters of these cities eventually came to recognize my countenance and warmed a bit to my presence. I also got to meet many of the inhabitants of this part of the world as they stopped in for an evening. Of interest to me was how no one seemed to know that this place was here and would always wonder why they had never seen the place before.
That winter was hard as the Orcs from the surrounding mountains moved into the forest and began waylaying travelers. It was this time that I again took up my sword in defense of the innocent and began my patrols of the road… Many Orcs learned the hazards of leaving their caves that winter…
As winter melted into spring the man I had come to know as Marcus and who had many a tale of his time in service as a palace guard for a nearby kingdom passed on. His departure from this mortal coil was calm and full of peace and his dying wish was that I take up the reigns of his homestead and continue to assist the travelers along the trade road. I promised him that I would do so as he slipped quietly into his just reward.
For the next six months I served as host to many a weary traveller, leaving my door wide for any who needed a respite from the long road. This service went well with my callings and I found a peace I had not encountered before as I ministered to the aches and sprains of travelers, gave rest to the weary, and prepared meals for the hungry from a larder that never seemed to empty thanks to the recompense of those who had a little to spare for those who didn’t… All in all it was a time of peace for me, far from the holy wars I had grown so accustomed to.
Over the months the travelers began to disregard my odd appearance and deemed me friend. As the word spread, my trips to the cities became far less of an event to worry about and I would always return to the inn with an equal amount of donated wares to that which I had bought with the coin left by the wealthy for my services…
(here is where the back story ends and the game begins)
As summer waned into fall a series of strange travelers appeared at my door which would bring an end to my peace. The first to arrive was a hooded an cloaked traveler who, after sitting him down for a meal and talking with him, turned out to be the closest thing to brethren that I had seen since that fateful day I washed up on that beach.
My visitor was a large feline warrior who spoke often of his convictions to a goddess. I eventually deduced that he was of a similar employ to myself in his homelands where he served as a holy warrior, protecting his people and supporting the bidding of his goddess. I also came to understand that he too was unfamiliar with this place and felt as if it was not somewhere to be found naturally.
My next guest that evening was an Elven man of indeterminate age who came to the door looking for shelter and a meal if I could spare it. He was sat down at the long table and fed along with the feline as he related to me the things he had seen in his travels. He was curiously tight lipped about his origin and destination, but I figured he must have his reasons and let it at that.
The Elf, by way of thanks, set about in my garden and within the span of a day turned it from a meager crop of basic vegetables into a veritable cornucopia of produce. My talents lay along a more clerical path and I freely admit to not knowing beans about beans, but what this Elf did with the garden spoke volumes about their connections to the greenwood.
The next morning as the Elf worked his wonders in the surrounding clearings of the inn, there was a noise heard outside near the garden. As I was engaged in teaching the feline warrior the basics of reading I left him with the manuscript and proceeded outside to see what was going on. I was greeted by a disembodied head floating about the garden in rapt appreciation for the Elf’s handiwork. The head, upon noticing me agape at its appearance, remove the rest of its magic cloak to reveal another feline being who was very apologetic for having startled me so.
Our latest addition was brought inside and introductions were made all around. Once this new feline fellow had demonstrated his prowess for the hunt by bringing in a full grown bull elk we collectively determined that the inn was now in need of a smoke house.
The next day the warrior and I went out into the forest to collect the lumber needed to build said smokehouse while the Elf and our newest visitor busied themselves around the inn.
While engaged with our lumber we heard quite the commotion coming from the direction of the inn and hurried back just in time to see a nearly naked and bruised Elven woman laying unconscious on the ground, a half elf standing above her putting his sword back in its scabbard, a skunk like being thanking the half elf profusely and the other feline tending to the horse they seemed to have ridden in on which was quite lathered and looking exhausted.
Chaos had come to visit.
Over the next two days it is discovered that the Elven woman is a princess and has run away from home for some reason we are unable to fathom, for she in all manner is a four year old trapped in the body of an adult elf and makes little sense. This woman had also become infatuated with the skunk, named Aryntha, whom she referred to as “kitty”, and had some how embroiled him in her escape. The half elf had encountered them and thought perhaps to rescue her from the skunk, but instead, after several days of tracking them, had determined that it was in fact the skunk who needed rescuing and had rendered the Elven woman unconscious at his first opportunity.
Once things began to settle back into a rhythm another occurrence set things into motion: A troop of Elven horsemen rode into the clearing and proclaimed that an Elven princess was missing, that she was under a curse, and that anyone with information as to her whereabouts should journey to a castle far to the north west for reward. There was also mention of reward for anyone finding a way to break this curse…
Our present party was at once divided on what to do; obviously we were in possession of this Elven princess and had but to return her for a reward, the others thought that by retaining the princess perhaps we could determine how to lift her curse. The Elven druid was the only one to notice that the riders neither left hoof-prints or raised any dust from their departure.
This caused everyone to blink a few times in silence…
(Part two will be upcoming either later today or tomorrow)