Ascensions Gate

Dreams # 3

Ramos stood in a dimly lit room with his friends. The room was perfectly square, like being on the inside of a metal box. There were two doors, each with a different number embossed on them. The numbers were pieces of a giant puzzle box…a puzzle that they were currently trapped in. Ramos didn’t know how the puzzle worked, but trusted that Thiramos and John were leading them to the Mad King Ahaza. They had led them this far with little issue.

The other rooms had traps or mechanical monsters as guardians, and Ramos expected this room to be no different. At the center of the room, sitting on a bench, was a man, or at least what appeared to be a man. He was dressed in high fashion and had a wide brimmed hat obscuring his face. As the party walked into the room, he looked at them. Ramos saw a porcelain face, carved into a smirk, and knew at that moment that this was another clockwork monster. Weapon 27 tensed near Ramos, and the man bowed in response.
“I seek no issue with you, my large friend,” a voice from behind the mask said. The voice sounded different than a Golem’s magical voice, like sounded not unlike the sound a violin’s string made when a bow dragged across it.
“Then let us pass,” Nerubi said. The man chuckled.
“I am the greatest duelist in the world. If one of you can beat me, you shall pass,” it said. The group turned and looked at Ramos. Ramos sighed.
“I will duel you,” he said. The man sprang from the bench. There were several clicking sounds and two thin blades sprang from his hands. Ramos drew his rapier and main-gauche. The duelist stepped forward and crouched down into a low stance. Ramos’s mechanical opponent extended his blade forward, with it’s twin pointed away. Ramos stepped forward and entered a loose stance, meeting the duelist’s rapier with his own and holding the parrying dagger out from him.
“Your name, sir?” the duelist asked.
“Lamont Sinclair,” Ramos said. He was paused for a moment. That’s not my name he thought.
“Well, Sinclair. Best of luck to you. En garde!” the duelist said. He swatted away at Ramos’s blade and thrust forward with his other sword. Ramos stepped backwards and cut the angle to avoid the strike. Just like the Marquis taught me Ramos thought. But who had taught the Marquis? The duelist twisted quickly and followed up on his attack, lashing out with twin strikes. Ramos batted one of the duelist’s blades away with his own, and parried the other with the main-gouche. The two continued to fight, retreating one moment and attacking another. They appeared evenly matched to Ramos’s friends, but the duelist had two blades to Ramos’s single rapier. As he deflected the duelist’s next attack with a quick beat parry from his rapier, Ramos thought about his plan of action. He could not continue this assault, he would fall to one of the blades sooner or later, so he needed to disable one of the duelist’s swords. The plan came together in Ramos’s head. He disengaged quickly and stepped back. The duelist paused and looked at Ramos. No doubt he could sense the bait, but he pressed his attack confidently. Using a skilled compound attack, the duelist rushed Ramos with a series of well placed blows. Ramos met him with a compound riposte, deflecting the attacks while feinting and retreating. The duelist finished his assault with a dual strike at his opponent. Ramos parried the first rapier with his own, pinning the blade to the ground, and caught caught the other with his main-gouche, locking it in place. Ramos twisted his dagger quickly, expecting to hear the snap of a broken blade, but there was none. Ramos looked down and saw that the duelist’s blade protruded from his hand like a spike, making it stronger than a normal blade. The duelist chuckled.
“A skillful plan, Sinclair. It would have worked on another swordsman, but alas, it was doomed from the start. You have committed to this, now you will die,” the duelist mocked.
Ramos ground his teeth. He needed more force. As the duelist began to exert even more force to free himself, Ramos looked at the gauntlet on his arm. The duelist was forcing the parrying dagger higher into the air, hoping to slip his sword from the catch. As Ramos’s arm was turned towards the ceiling, he flexed his forearm and the metal spike launched from its housing trailing a steel chain behind it. The spike buried itself into the ceiling and Ramos pulled his hand toward him. The motion activated the re-coil system and pulled Ramos from the ground with incredible force. He cranked his wrist hard and, with the combined force of his ascent, the force snapped both Ramos’s wrist and the duelist’s sword. Ramos rushed towards the ceiling, getting his feet in front of him. He looked down at his stunned opponent, and sprang from the ceiling towards the ground. The duelist saw the attack coming and raised his remaining rapier. As Ramos fell towards the mechanical fighter, he stabbed with his parrying dagger and his rapier. The dagger caught the duelist’s sword and pinned it to his own chest. As Ramos smashed into his opponent, he drove his rapier into the duelist’s chest cavity through a small opening at his neck. Ramos bounced off the metal swordsman and collapsed on the ground. He stood up quickly and faced the machine. The duelist was shaking violently, metal plates falling from his body.
“Impressive,” he croaked as he fell into pieces.
Ramos stepped forward, blood leaking from his swelling face and his wrist throbbing horribly. He took his parrying dagger from the duelist’s metal form, but, seeing that is was now as mangled as his opponent, he discarded it. Ramos walked over to the snapped blade and examined it. With a little skill, this could be made into a sword of its own.
“Guess now you’re the greatest swordsman in the world,” John said mockingly. Ramos smiled.
“Onward,” he said.

Ramos woke up.

View
Dreams # 2

A large axe almost crushed Ramos, but the titanic blade of Weapon 27 knocked it aside as Ramos dodged. He had his sword drawn and his parrying dagger in his other hand, all but useless against the magitech suit. The pilot of the armor, a Torosian lieutenant, spat at Ramos and used her magically enhanced strength to swat Weapon 27’s sword away. Ramos prepared for the next assault.

Ramos vaguely remembered how the fight began. The party of survivors: Ramos, John the scout, a huge half-ogre called Weapon 27, a Concordant ice mage Corporal Thiramos and a lone monk named Nerubi, had banded together on the battlefield and were fighting their way back to the Concordant line. They had learned of a Torosian strike force set to attack regrouping Concordant soldiers. Ramos would not have that. They tracked the enemy force and attacked from ambush. Weapon 27 cut through dozens of men with his terrible sword and Thirmos froze a score of enemy soldiers with his magic. Ramos and the monk fought against the enemy, with Ramos hoping to engage their leader.

Now Ramos dodged another attack from the battlesuit pilot and realized he was outmatched. All of Raulo’s teaching, would be useless against a walking wall of magical iron. Weapon 27 smashed at the suit, but even his sword couldn’t break through. Ramos charged and thrust with his rapier hoping to hit any weak point, but there were none, and his sword bounced off the metal. The pilot laughed.

“Such tactics certainly didn’t help your commander, duelist, I doubt they will aid you any better,” she mocked.

Ramos drew a breath. This was the magitech suit that Raulo faced. He was certainly dead now. Rage boiled inside Ramos. Raulo had been a friend, turned Ramos away from a life of crime to protect the Concordant. He was a true hero and now this war hungry witch struck him down. Ramos bellowed in anger and renewed his attack and the pilot laughed cruelly. There has to be some weak point! Ramos looked behind the battle suit and saw John creeping behind her. As if reading Ramos’s thoughts, John took careful careful aim, and launched a dagger at the lower chest plate of the magical armor. The blade stuck in between the creases of the plate and popped it just slightly away from the armor. And that was enough! Ramos saw the opening and lept forward and thrust his rapier at the spot. The pilot gasped in surprise and pain as Ramos’s sword bypassed the armor and sliced her flesh. She stumbled away, bright red blood leaking from the lower plate. Weapon 27 saw the sudden weakness immediately, and rushed the wounded pilot. He began smashing his sword at the lower plate. Each blow was thunderous and the pilot could not hope to stand. She collapsed to the ground, armor ruined. Weapon 27 raised his sword above his head, ready to deliver the crushing killing blow, but Ramos raised his hand to stop. Weapon 27 paused and the pilot crawled from her ruined armor. John appeared next to Ramos.
“No survivors, Sergeant,” he said. Ramos looked at him stunned.
“We are not killing a defeated enemy if we do not have to!” He said.
Thiramos stepped next to Ramos, “Sir, we have no other option. We cannot take her prisoner, we have no way to hold her and she will try to thwart us in returning to our line.”
The pilot rolled on her back and looked at Ramos.
“You are a coward,” she said, “Come on, patriot, strike down your enemy. Luthor will do the same to you soon,” she spit at the flag tied around Ramos’s waist. Weapon 27 tensed. Ramos sighed. Everything seemed so different than before this battle. What would Raulo do here? It was dishonorable to strike at a broken foe. But she would try to hurt them, kill other soldiers. That was her job. And Toros had invaded the Concordant. Ramos stepped forward, and stabbed the pilot in the throat.
There was a heavy silence on the battlefield. Is that what a hero should do? Ramos asked himself.

That was what a hero did.

Ramos woke up

View
Dreams #1

An explosion deafened Ramos and he fell to the ground. The air was thick with smoke and screams of the dying. Scanning his surroundings, Ramos saw corpses of Concordant soldiers littering the ground near him. He stood up and as he walked forward, a young man grabbed his leg. “Sergeant,” he croaked as he died. Ramos looked down and saw he was wearing a scout’s uniform with the red and white Concordant flag around his waist. A magical rapier bearing his family’s crest hung at his hip and his left arm had some Skree magatech bracer. These things were alien to Ramos, but oddly familiar. Raulo, Ramos thought. He had a vague memory of watching Raulo fight against a magatech battle suit, but it wasn’t the suits he had seen in Itoni. He felt like he saw Raulo fall, but who was Raulo?

Ramos continued on, in the distance he saw Torosian soldiers crossing a ridge. In response, Ramos dropped to the ground, landing beside a corpse. While Ramos paused to think about his next move, he looked at the corpse next to him. It was a young man, but the age was hard to place. He was staring up at the sky; blank blue eyes in a frozen stare. As Ramos looked at this man, he found it remarkable how utterly plain the man’s features were. He had to keep looking to remind himself of the color of his eyes or hair, as if the memory was fading as quickly as it was made. As Ramos studied this corpse, he couldn’t find a single injury. As Ramos looked, the corpse’s hand rose suddenly and Ramos felt cold steel against his throat. The corpse blinked and spoke, "Hiding amongst the dead?”
Ramos exhaled slowly, “You as well? There are enemy soldiers heading this way. We should move lest we face them alone.”
The corpse smiled. “A good plan,” he said, “my name is John. I’m a corporal in the Scout division. Got separated.”
Ramos was sure someone in the Scout Division was named John, but he had never met anyone with that name. “I’m Sergeant Sinclair,” Ramos said. He never had a title in Itoni, but this one fit well.
“Well, Sergeant, if I may be so bold as to make a recommendation. We are overrun and if we try to regroup with Concordant forces we’ll have to fight through Luthor’s men alone. We should attempt to find other loyal forces and circle back,” John said.
“I agree. There’s other people we could help.” Ramos said.

There was another explosion.

Ramos woke up.

View
Letters to Home 8

Dearest Lucille,

I am sorry it has taken so long to write, I’ve been on a massive campaign! It started weeks ago when we met Maldrian, an elven noble from the southern Elf Kingdom. He explained to us that his brother Callindis was a high ranking member of the Blades of Aramatheus. Callindis had been charged with recovering a dread artifact: the Iron Heels of Lord Goreseth. I remember your family telling us dark stories of this wicked man when we were young. The Heels, as well as other pieces of Goreseth’s armor, are rumored to have great magical power—- power that may draw out the evil in a person and Prince Telleus is trying to gather the various pieces of the brutal warlord’s armor! Maldrian explained that while in the jungles, Callindis was taken with a curse of lycanthropy. Prince Telleus would never allow a werewolf in his ranks, so he had dispatched assassins to kill Callindis. Maldrian commissioned us to recover the Iron Heels of the Conqueror and slay his brother, so that his brother would avoid a torturous death. We agreed to recover the artifact so Prince Telleus would not have such an item of power.

We journeyed to the jungle fortress of Callindis and fought through his forces. Indeed, the cursed soldier had infected most of his men with the moon curse. We purged the jungle of these murderous creatures and faced Callindis. His bigotry was still intact, but his bloodlust greatly magnified and we had no choice but to fulfill Maldrian wish and slay his brother. We also uncovered information about the Iron Heels—- as well as some darker knowledge that I will explain later in this letter. We had learned that the Iron Heels were en route to the Prince, when the convoy was attacked by the Van-shinn, a group of desert pirates.

We journeyed to the Har-Azer Desert and found the sandship. Exploring the butchered remains, we found some treasure, but were unable to locate the evil artifact. We deduced that they must have been taken back to the Van-shinn’s lair and we journeyed there. Along the way we faced a silt horror, an evil squid creature that shifted through the sands like it was water! We defeated this beast and found the Van-shinn’s cave lair. The tribe lived in a series of caverns under the sand, including women and children. But there were slaves that had been pressed into service against us. Some of my companions argued that we shouldn’t try to spare slaves that fought against us because they had little hope of escape, but I argued against such an act. A little hope is better than no hope, and heroes shouldn’t make a cold decision about who lives and dies. Heroes fight against oppression, and try to save innocent people. Heroes should embody hope. I hope that I do. We fought our way to the demon the Van-shinn had been worshipping, discovering her to be an elder brown dragon! We chased the wyrm, a beast named Nafell, from her lair to the desert sands above and faced her in a terrible combat. We defeated her and I recovered the Iron Heels of the Conqueror. The Van-shinn approached us and I demanded them to back down. Out of fear of us, they did and swore allegiance to me. We took the dragon’s treasure and I demanded that they free all of their slaves, which they did. I hope you do not question me, but I left the raiders a large portion of gold. I feared that we were taking their resources, and there were women and children. A true hero shows mercy to those bested whenever able. I think that’s what Lamont would have done.

We returned victorious, but it was not without a massive price. Perhaps this is why I didn’t write you sooner, it’s been difficult to think about and I’m frightened. Callindis bit me savagely in our fight with him and he has passed his moon curse to me. It hasn’t taken hold of me fully, but I feel bloodlust boiling up inside me. I find myself angry at my friends, almost coming to blows with them. I think if the Van-shinn had resisted I would have started attacking them. We’ve done research, it is a slow disease and I am fighting it. I’ve been dreaming strangely, I do not know if it is connected to this. I need to find a werewolf lord to remove the curse. Fear not, I think I’ve found a way.

The dark knowledge that we’ve found is that the Blades of Aramatheus may be building towards a massive attack on the Concordant! Worse still, there is evidence that my kin are aiding them heavily. A great shame has befallen me again that my family is aiding these vile murderers. With that, we are journeying to the Concordant to find out what they’re up to and stop it if we can! There is also a werewolf lord located in the Concordant in the city of Vandale, a descendant of the Wulfen Brothers of legend. Perhaps he can help me.

I will be across the desert soon, but I do not know if it is a good idea to see you. I think you should stay with your cousin or somewhere else, perhaps the temple of Saint Balthasar, for I feel my brothers may target you when they realize I’m coming for them. I will continue to write to you. Please be safe.

Coming home,
Ramos

View
Letter to home 7

Dearest Lucille,

Please forgive me for my silence; I have been unable to write until today. I hope my earlier letters this season reached you, but I doubt any letter would have been able to leave Itoni until last week. I am glad to report that I am alive and well and we have achieved victory in Itoni! We have been fighting bitterly for the past several weeks, with the occupying Morlians increasing their strangle hold on the city. The Flames of Vengeance continued to engage in numerous battles throughout Itoni, isolated skirmishes and sabotage. I will spare you the details, but I must confess to witnessing numerous atrocities on both sides. The Morlians were wicked, and it brought out the worst in everyone. I believe I have held true to my own convictions, but war is truly terrible.

We were captured in the middle of our resistance, and were to be executed! I was terrified that I would never get to write to you and almost gave into despair. But we were able to escape with none of our party meeting our end that day. It grieves me to say, however, that this was not true for the remainder of the battle. Ghaul Thu and Arius fell in the sewers of Itoni. We also lost our new minotaur companion. None of them would respond to our ritual to call them back from the realms of their gods. True death of heroes is a sad thing indeed.

We pressed on and were able to gather the forces of The Gears of War, lead by the legendary Seraphim. It was quite an experience to meet another one of the so called Chosen of the Gods. He was a frightening individual, but at least he was on our side. We paid for their services with a magitech Colossus we had recovered. I was reluctant to unleash such a terrible weapon on anyone, but it was the only way. Our final battle, we did our best to evacuate the city before the Gears attacks, but alas we were only able to spare a few hundred of the final assault. It was truly horrible, there’s a reason those machines were all destroyed! Worse still, devils had taken up residence in Itoni, profiting from the misery of war. We did our best to stop their wicked deals, but we were trapped by a cunning succubus and Haplo gave up his soul to save us. A heroic sacrifice, and a terrible one. There is hope however, we may be able to save his soul one day.

Finally, the Morlian forces were in rout and we faced Lord Commander Madregal Thax. This man had been the source of misery to the Scarlands with his campaign against Toros. He had given an order of no retreat and ordered his men to kill any Itonian they saw. Thax mocked our attempts to stop him and swore that he would bury us in the burning city! The fight against this man was terrible, he used advanced magitech weapons and abilities on us, frequently taking to the sky and shooting us. But he could not stand against us, and we defeated him. His crimes had been too great and no quarter was given. I have thought that Lamont Sinclair would have offered Thax a chance; I hope that I am still on my path. Thax would have spit that back in our face anyway.

With Thax defeated, the Morlians continued their retreat and escaped the city. They will not be returning. I regret that the city is all but destroyed and there are many dead. The Flames of Vengeance are currently aiding the city in rebuilding and tending to the injured. We have a great deal of work to do. If the city was in a better place I would send for you, but it is still a grim and dangerous place. I will continue to write to you as we rebuild. You can be a hero in peacetime as well as war.

I hope the West is treating you well. Please write to me as soon as you can.

Looking Home,

Ramos

View
Rooks Books 203
Happy New Year

The city hasn’t been the same. Ever since the reclamation of Itoni the city is becoming more steeped in death… After all those deaths the veil between worlds has become thinner. Genocide is just the thing to do that, and there was no shortage of death on either side. A way was torn, but it hasn’t stopped. I’ve felt it, at night when I hunt, the hunger of the Shadowfell is pulsing into this world. Right now the tide has receded, I know it will return. The tide will come in and I don’t know what is going to wash up on shore. All I can do is prepare, prepare and make sure I do a better job of saving this city. Been keeping the lowlifes out of it as much as possible so those that do live here can thrive. Sometimes I feel like it’s the best I can do

Last time I’d come too close to death, I’d been gotten caught off guard. I can’t stand the feeling of those whispers. I can’t tell if it’s just my imagination or not anymore. I’d been close to the edge too often for my taste. Now I’ve got this arm as a reminder. It’s mine, but it’s just not mine. I can feel it, it’s a part of me, but it’s just not mine. So I’ve become an instrument, this life isn’t mine anymore. It belongs to those who’ve stood by me and to those that can’t stand on their own. I want to carve out the rot on this city so it can live. A lot of people don’t think things can be the way the used to be, I think it can. I’ve just gotta make it happen.

I’ve got to make it happen before I end up like Haplo. He’s my other reminder. He’s sold his soul, only not to the Shadowfell. I can’t help but think it’s gonna be worse for him. I almost did it. Let the bigger dog take the bone, see if I get split down the middle. Don’t know how many more times I can be split, I’m pretty broken as it is.

View
Letter to Royalty

To my Commander and Sovereign

My Lord, I pray this letter finds you well. I am writing to tell you the status of the free city of Itony. By now I’m sure you have heard that nothing went as the Morlians expected. They could have never guessed that those foul scum known as “the Flames of Vengeance” would hire out the Gears of War and assault the city with a magitech colossus. The Storm Raven were routed but the late lieutenant commander Madrigal Thax did destroy much of the city on his way out. So now here we stand two months later. Repairs are being made in the city and people are returning. With the Flames being the cities heroes there has been an influx of despicable half-bloods. It repulses me to even be in this city anymore and I only tolerate it because you need me here. I will keep an eye on things in the city so as to keep you aware of potential threats to your glorious plans. I will keep the unclean nature of this city from me with the knowledge that you already have the crown and the boots are on their way here. I await your majestic rise to power and to the return of your fathers righteous path of our people.

Your faithful servant
“Shade”

View
Fevered Dreams

The World is a white fire. My hand wouldn’t come up to block my eyes. The Blackness finally settles in as a muted world begins to fall away, I managed to grab bits of the world with my left hand. Breathing is hard, its seconds taking longer, but holding my grip helps.

A sense of a familiar taste, it is acidic and bitter sweet; I’m salivating. Someone in this World is dying, the death is elegant and potent. There are hands? Many or none, I’m not sure. They are trying to mute out an already dull world and I’m straining to listen to the words. There is a gold creature, it seems surprised, it’s still gold in a grey world. Then the rasping started loud and drowning, trying to wrest my grip.

NO.

The voices are familiar, they’re not comforting. Ice runs through my veins. They want to eat me, I know they want to eat me. I’m screaming and nothing’s coming out so I try to run but all I can do is hold my grip, nothing else is responding. There’s a face next to my head it’s been there the whole time. It’s trying to cajole me, Ice, trying to be friendly. I can just let go, then I can run and get this thing out of my face. I’ll drown, I’m still holding my breath. If I let go I can run.

NO.

I know what it’s doing it’s trying to make me let go. I can’t , I can never lessen my grip, never never never.

I can’t die. I can’t, I can’t die. I know where they want to take me. I know I know I know. The feline malevolence drifts from my ear to my shoulder caresses my neck with venomous ice. Pain. Finally Pain. It exists in this halfway place. It surges through my spine and I yell, but there’s no sound.

Surge of green. An ocean of it flashing around, its loudness subdued by my inattentive ears. Endless, unforgiving green. I only pay attention to the creature on my chest, it’s curled up, rumbling. Friendly, hungry eyes remain fixed on me, curiously attentive and patient. It is waiting for me to give in. I am the boat it is riding out on such a fibrous sea. Poison emanates from the vibrating vapors pouring off that horrid little creature, it’s demeanor unchanging. I’m aware of those hands again, clawing at my backside. I think they are hands. I think my eyes are bleeding. I haven’t let go, my left arm is entirely a cramp, rigid and solid. I don’t know if I could let go if I wanted to. I don’t. I know where they’re taking me. I can’t die. I can’t.

I can’t die.

They want me too badly.

The gold thing is there again, in my field of vision. There are many things in my vision now. I don’t understand. What did they do with the sea? It was dustier now than it was before, and more solid now. The light here burns my bleeding eyes, my throat raw even though I’m still not sure I was screaming. Are my eyes bleeding? They’re very hot. I can still smell that bittersweet aroma. I want to eat my own death, it hangs like a musk in the air. The gold thing is talking. It’s angry though. Does it know I am here?

Bleak. Dull. Grey.

I’ll stab that little bastard. I’ll keep those fucking eyes off of me. I can just get a better grip pull myself back. I can keep fighting. I can keep.

I can keep fighting

“No, no, it’s ok, you don’t need to.”

Ramos is there. Is he in the Ocean World? No, the ocean isn’t dusty here. There is no ocean anymore. It’s smaller, contained. A room. Very small, no there’s curtains. A cloth room. Heh.

“I’ll fight, I’m still good.” My tongue is funny. I can still taste my death. I wipe off my tongue.

They’re saying things but it’s still dull. I can move my arms now. I can feel my chest, there’s no cat there now. I can feel my ribs. My ribs…

Metal.

I can feel my metal ribs with my metal hand and I can feel that they’re both metal. How can I feel that? Dull aches are everywhere, I might be able to stand if I try. I don’t think I should yet though. Reesa is thinking about other things, I think she’s been watching me. Why can I feel my muscles in my metal arm? How did that get there? I think there was an explosion. I think I was in that explosion. Is this a hospital? How did we get to a hospital?

“What do you want to do with her?”

“What?” I feel thick.

“You didn’t want to…” Ramos was looking at me, concerned.

It settles in, “No! No. I was just going to let her go.” Don’t want the shadowfell to be mad at me, I’ll take one less person being mad at me.

Ramos looks relieved. She said something ominous I’m sure. I don’t care at this point. I want to know what happened to my arm. I think I should just be glad I’m still alive.

I just… can’t die…

View
Defeat

Ramos stared at the cold stone floor of the cell. His chest hurt terribly; the blood-strained bandage tightly plugging the wound left after Thax’s shot. The weight of defeat, however, was much more painful to bare. Their plan, to destroy the Morlian fleet, had failed. Who’s fault was it? An easy answer was no one. There was no way to know that Thax would take the fight to them so quickly and violently. In such a situation, they had been completely at his mercy. Ramos clenched his teeth. Things would have been very different if I had been on the ground. It was also easy to blame Xaing Hu. Ramos had clearly stated that if the ship was to fall it needed to be directed towards the sea, a directive that the druid had ignored. The party was quick to blame him, but Ramos reflected that a druid was likely a poor candidate for pilot, particularly Xaing Hu due to his well known impulsiveness. The plan had mostly been Ramos’s idea, at least the elements of flying the airship. Ramos could have piloted the machine, in fact he may have been the best choice. But he let Xaing Hu take the reigns, perhaps out of battle lust to fire cannons on the Morlians that had hurt so many. This error in judgement led them to situation they were now in. They had been told that they would be executed within five days if the remainder of the Flames of Vengeance did not surrender. In Ramos’s mind, that meant they had plenty of time to escape.

And then they took Reesa.

It was sudden, days earlier than expected. He had never felt so powerless. Reesa, defiant to the end, had grabbed Ramos and told him that he had to promise to take care of her charges. As they pulled her away he promised he would protect them. He was glad they dragged her away quickly, otherwise she would have seen the grim look the crossed his face. With her gone, they were unlikely to escape. He wouldn’t be able to keep that promise.

Ramos shook his head violently. No! he thought. There was always a way for good to win. The story shouldn’t end like this. And if Ramos had anything to say about it, it wouldn’t end like this for the rest of them. Ramos sighed. I hope I can fulfill my vow

View
Ferdinand's Journal, Entry 1

Entry One

Today marked a completely new chapter in my life. So new and different that I figured I’d start keepin’ a journal for all my thoughts ‘n’ ruminations. I figure when I get old, I’ll enjoy looking back on all this.

7-30
I had found that my quality of life had been slowly deteriorating. With the Morlian occupation, it had got really hard to find a good time. Supplies were getting pretty low, and even the basics were costing more than they should. Being a Minotaur of dis’riminating tastes, I like the better things, and they’ve been more rare than a two-toed toad. Aside from that, the Morlians are bastards. Slavers, creeps, and tyrants, all of ’em.

So, I ended up making some friends. One is Rook. He’s a Nah-grim. He’s a good guy for what he is, and has shown little in the nasty tendencies of his people. On that note, I felt like we were born chums. He’s seen a lot of bad things, and could use some cheer in his life. He’s also a freedom fighter, so that’s good. He recruited me to the cause; seems like he’s one of the Flames of somethin’ or other and they’re the people that don’t like the Morlians kicking around town. He and his pals wanted to stop the execution of their lady friend Reesa. I ended up joining in.

Rook tasked me with getting a blade for Reesa to cast her spells through. We were going to save her using Rook’s shadowy powers. However, we wanted to prepare for the worst, and we wanted to make sure she’d have a weapon to fight with. I ended up going to Godfrey’s Emporium. He was a fine guy and responsive to our cause. He made me a dagger for Reesa and agreed to help make a distraction when we went to save her. Meeting him made me think that I should make sure to save some of the money I make adventuring for later in life. If there’s a later in life.

On the next day, our plans fell to shit. It all ended in a fracas. We saved the girl, but she didn’t seem to appreciate it all that much. I don’t even think she said thank you for the dagger I enchanted for her. I made sure to demand payment, ‘cause she just seemed ungrateful. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to let people in. I know I’m new to her, so I just chalked it up to unfamiliarity and a generally cold demeanor to handsome minotaurs.

She does seem to have a heart though. She and the Flames took in a bunch of orphans. They’re a rag-tag bunch. I bought them a load of cakes and treats. I hope they like me, that I’m not too scary for them. I also hope that my gift helped let Reesa know that I’m one of the good bulls.

I also met Dot. I think his name was Dot. He was an old friend of Reesa’s and he was a great help. He fought tirelessly against a Dire Tiger, and he burned the bodies after our fight to save Reesa from certain doom. Might I add that I don’t think Reesa appreciated my saving her half as much as she should. Again, I figure it’s just her trying to protect herself. Either that or she secretly lusts after me and is trying to push me away because she can’t handle the power of the bull.

Dot also burned down a warehouse we were supposed to burn down. It went well, but I didn’t have anything to do with it. I’m just glad that no one got hurt and we managed to get done what we needed to do.

Two Elves, Funco and Fulvum, I think that’s their names, they were undercover and had found some information and they were backstabbed and all sorts of terrible, nasty things happened. Fulvum was shot. She was knocking on death’s door, but I told her no one was home and saved her. She seemed to appreciate my help more than Reesa did. Even then, she wasn’t half as appreciative as I would have liked. Maybe minotaurs aren’t her kind of hero, but then again, maybe she just wanted to seem demure in front of her brother. I got to carry her for a while. When I couldn’t smell the whiskey on her, she smelled nice.

Funco helped Rook find the documents in the warehouse before Dot burned it down.

Now, I’m sitting in Reggie’s where this all began. I only have a few hundred gold left, but I’d like to get a few drinks and dances in before the night is through. However, I also need to buy some good food for the Flames of Vengence’s pantry. Now that I’m a member, neep broth won’t do.

Also, there’s the children to think of. If they don’t eat well, they won’t grow up able to become adventurers. They won’t be able to carry on the good fight. Everyone knows that you can’t fight the good fight without good food.

Impressions about the other characters:

Reesa Itonia seems a bit tightly wound. She takes life so seriously. She needs to dance once in her life. She needs to let herself enjoy life before she finds that she’s wasted it all on worrying. I understand her need to worry, but she needs to learn to have fun sometimes.

“Rook” Kazim-Draxhuld-Kilare is a dark spirit, but I feel he’s a kindred spirit. He seems to know that you can be cautious and still enjoy life. I feel that I can trust him, and plan on keeping close to him. If he escaped the party’s mass capture, he has good instincts.

Dot seems like a resourceful ally. His powers are kin to my own; I admire his devotion to Nash. My devotion to Drago is true, but it also seems to pale in comparisson to someone like Dot, who seems like a bit of a zealot.

The Marquis of Blades seems like a good leader, but I wonder if he’s a wise leader.

View

I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.