Sixty thousand years ago, dragons and giants were friends. More than friends; the teachers of the giants, their fathers and their gods. They have given them everything, too much, as it turned out. Dal Quor, the plane of dreams was source of the first invasion. The first wave of war, that spread across the face of Eberron.
The dragons could not let their children drown in that invasion and they feared that this invasion would spread across Eberron, to reach their precious Argonessen. So they joined the giants in their struggle and researched a ritual that would tear apart the connection of Dal Quor and Eberron. It would end the invasion of the Dream Plane creatures, but it ended a lot more.
A ripple in the magical fabric spread across Xen'drik in those days, it did not only tear apart the connection between the planes, it destroyed half of Xen'drik and left the giants and their civilization in ruin. Plagues spread across the land and the giants slaves, the drow and the elves, used that opportunity to free themselves from their chains and wage yet another war against their masters. Crippled through the first magical cataclysm, the giants struggled and their doom was certain.
And then they remembered. Something that should have never again be brought up on the face of Eberron. They wanted to use the same ritual, to save their doomed civilization and stop the civil war against their slaves, that brought hell on Eberron so many years ago. But this time, the dragons would not repeat their failure, they would not let Eberron and everything that existed, be torn apart by a bunch of power hungry children.
High above Xen'drik in the clouds, forty thousand years ago. There he was. A dragon, flying to his own longest day. It was the longest day in the history of Xen'drik, a day that would never end, for some. Just like them, he was thinking, thinking about the past, the why, the how.
The history of a race, the destiny of the giants. Was it meant to be a failure? Was the error they made, by teaching them, more of a failure, than what the giants wanted to do now? Should the giants be punished for wanting to save themselves? Or was it the dragons that deserved punishment?
All thought was blown away by the strong winds that pulled on his face, as he turned towards the earth. With a nauseating flush of clouds in his eyes, he broke through the heavens gate and saw the destruction and the war that was waging beneath him. The roaring of giants and powerful magic filled the air. The very fabric of being was twisted in this fight.
A ruined land, a destroyed city, sunken into the rock and crumbled to dust. The dust of the greatest giant city on Xen'drik lay beneath him. On the far horizon he could see something coming, could feel the power building, but they needed more time. They had to buy some time, to stop the giants from destroying not only Xen'drik but all of Eberron in their foolish attempt to save their doomed civilization.
Chaos was upon him. He had left the safety of the clouds and instantly a bolt of lightning struck past him. He tumbled to the side nearly breaking his wing bone, but quickly gained control over his flight. He raced towards the giant that tried to kill him. As he flew by with dazzling speed, a quick lash of his tail was all that was needed to bring the giant down. The gigantic humanoid hit the ground and the dragon flew a wide circle to gather speed for his next attack. The giant surprisingly got up again, he was tougher than the dragon had thought and now he was ready to battle the attacking dragon with his big two handed sword. The dragon came in full speed and with a mighty forward flap of his massive wings he nearly instantly stopped right in front of the giant. He was flapping right above ground, standing still. The giant was blinded by the dust, charged forward forward through the cloud of debris and crushed into the dragon and left him tumbling back. As he came to a halt, he tried to get up on his feet, the giant already came charging. Now was the time, the dragon thought, it was time to leave this plane of existence, as he saw the sword of the giant coming down, a flash of purple light, that was brighter than the sun, blinded his eyes and then there was silence...
* * * *
... forty thousand years later, there he still was. Awaiting the killing blow of the giant with his jaws wide opened to scream. Awaiting the destruction of the world. Lost and forgotten by the sands of time. His fight meaningless and his flesh transformed to purple stone. All his thought and being frozen back in time, to be a silent watchmen, over what was upon the world yet again. Before him, his ancient adversary standing just as still, frozen, delivering his victory blow. Both forever bound in the endless thought of struggle, both souls forever trapped.
Around them, the drums of war echoed across the purple plains again. The giants, or what was left of them after that fateful day, were moving again. The children of the past, have not grown up over the years, they still make the same mistakes and bring others with them. Other children, other races, that do not learn from the mistakes of the past. Amongst the children of men though, a beacon of hope glows as bright as the light of destruction in the past. The fire of Stormreach, it's magical lighthouse attracting others to right future wrongs. A story untold. A story unwritten. Your story.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
The Cerulean Hills - Alabaster Stoneheart: Freedom
A little guest story about the Cerulean Hills and its missing background story and integration into the world storyline. Its a great new area, though lacking a lot of "flesh" in my taste. Thats why i've written a little story about it.
The days of raining. The subtle sound of dropping heaven tears, that hit the ground and dissolve into nothingness. Soaking wet earth, that started to become water itself. Nothing you would expect coming to a near tropical environment. You'd expect sun and warmth. That's exactly what Alabaster thought, when he arrived in Stormreach just three weeks ago. Alabaster is Warforged. One of those forsaken warriors that roam Eberron in search of meaning since the last war. His hearth was filled with confusion and hope. Hope of a better life, a real life, a life that has meaning.
In the first days, the days without raining, he found hope in the trust of some humanoids, that gave him a reason to live. They begged him for help. They tossed him around. They told him what to do. He felt needed and guided by the call for help just as much as by the orders, that he so willingly accepted.
But then everything changed. The rain had cleared the streets and the taverns were full of babbling adventurers. Now the humanoids, the fleshlings, they seemed rather focused on asking other fleshlings for help. Alabaster was standing outside, right next to the Wayward Lobster, a local tavern. With no need to sleep, no need to breathe and no need to rest, he just stood there, hoping that the rain would wash away the tears he could not cry. In his hearth he was a barbarian, a hard warrior that knew only fighting. Always guided by violence, he followed his axe wherever it led him.
Pushed by in inner impulse he started walking. Walking away, away from the city, away from all those laughing humans, that just like him, or so he thought, have no meaning in their life but they don't realize it. He walked outside of the city into an outer area called the Cerulean Hills. He never went there before, but gave no second thought on the matter. He went just outside of the false protection of the city walls. Storming through the city gate, he did not even realize, that the days of raining had come to an end.
Just outside the gates a wide field of green grass and lush jungle trees was opening before him. The sun, that was gone for so long, had come back from the dead. It broke through the clouds and fell on him, but he did not notice it. He was still just walking, when a rush of adrenaline sharpened his senses. His blue crystals were glowing even in the bright sunlight and he felt the sensation of battle rising up. But the battle was already here, he dodged a thrown spear just by an inch and started running forward towards the enemy he analysed while running.
Bugbear. Cloaked. 45 feet away or 2 seconds of running.
He charged blindly now, the rage burning in his wooden body. But before he even reached his enemy, he felt something try to get a hold off his foot. With barely a slowdown, he chopped the wolf in two. Six feet away from the bugbear, he jumped into air and let his axe come down on the poor creature. The bugbear tried to dodge his axeswing, but was caught by the stunning blow of the Warforged. That was the last mistake this creature would ever make. Its body dropped lifeless like a lump of meat.
Now the heat was growing and it was not the sun burning in his eyes. The sight of orcs in the nearby woods released him on another blind charge. Swing after swing he pushed away his thought, his fear and his doubt. Every chop, every drop of blood made him happy, gave him meaning again. Then he stopped.
He had been running away from the city for quite a while now and the only thing he could spot, that made him recognize his position, was the Stormreach light tower. The golden light beam was always there on the horizon. A light of hope when he first arrived in Stormreach and a beacon to go back to now.
This was the first time he really looked around in this overgrown place of murder. The blood was dripping from his axe and dozens of orcs, bugbears and wolves had fallen to his rage. He felt a strange sensation, something that his old masters called "guilt". But then he remembered a story he heard in the city about the orcs and their ruthless approach against the farmers of the city. The hills were not just only the outside of the city, they were a farming area. He heard the people and some farmers, that have left their fields, talking about the orcs, who claimed the ruins to be sacred and not to be approached nor used as farming ground.
He never understood the fleshlings focus on believe and gods. He was looking down on the ruins, the white marble pillars and broken walls, that were scattered around the landscape. Inside the city everything was brown stone, but out here, all was white and green and full of life. A nearby shrine of Arawai was the reason for that, or so the farmers believed. They had been praying there to Arawai to get rid of the undead, that arose from time to time out of their fields and threatened their families.
Slowly but steadily he was walking back towards the city, past walls that had been broken apart by time and its power, or by water and the ever growing jungle, that was taking back what once was his. A new river had found its way through the ruins. It ran past the walls, past the pillars, towards the city, just like the lonely Warforged, that was cooling his feet in the slowly flowing waters.
The jungle wanted to take back the land it once owned. The orcs claimed their ruins to be sacred and untouchable. The lions were roaring their demand for lordship over the landscape. The river was taking more and more of Eberron's body, digging its way deeper down into the land. And just like all those, that were demanding something... Alabaster desired, like nothing else, freedom.
The days of raining. The subtle sound of dropping heaven tears, that hit the ground and dissolve into nothingness. Soaking wet earth, that started to become water itself. Nothing you would expect coming to a near tropical environment. You'd expect sun and warmth. That's exactly what Alabaster thought, when he arrived in Stormreach just three weeks ago. Alabaster is Warforged. One of those forsaken warriors that roam Eberron in search of meaning since the last war. His hearth was filled with confusion and hope. Hope of a better life, a real life, a life that has meaning.
In the first days, the days without raining, he found hope in the trust of some humanoids, that gave him a reason to live. They begged him for help. They tossed him around. They told him what to do. He felt needed and guided by the call for help just as much as by the orders, that he so willingly accepted.
But then everything changed. The rain had cleared the streets and the taverns were full of babbling adventurers. Now the humanoids, the fleshlings, they seemed rather focused on asking other fleshlings for help. Alabaster was standing outside, right next to the Wayward Lobster, a local tavern. With no need to sleep, no need to breathe and no need to rest, he just stood there, hoping that the rain would wash away the tears he could not cry. In his hearth he was a barbarian, a hard warrior that knew only fighting. Always guided by violence, he followed his axe wherever it led him.
Pushed by in inner impulse he started walking. Walking away, away from the city, away from all those laughing humans, that just like him, or so he thought, have no meaning in their life but they don't realize it. He walked outside of the city into an outer area called the Cerulean Hills. He never went there before, but gave no second thought on the matter. He went just outside of the false protection of the city walls. Storming through the city gate, he did not even realize, that the days of raining had come to an end.
Just outside the gates a wide field of green grass and lush jungle trees was opening before him. The sun, that was gone for so long, had come back from the dead. It broke through the clouds and fell on him, but he did not notice it. He was still just walking, when a rush of adrenaline sharpened his senses. His blue crystals were glowing even in the bright sunlight and he felt the sensation of battle rising up. But the battle was already here, he dodged a thrown spear just by an inch and started running forward towards the enemy he analysed while running.
Bugbear. Cloaked. 45 feet away or 2 seconds of running.
He charged blindly now, the rage burning in his wooden body. But before he even reached his enemy, he felt something try to get a hold off his foot. With barely a slowdown, he chopped the wolf in two. Six feet away from the bugbear, he jumped into air and let his axe come down on the poor creature. The bugbear tried to dodge his axeswing, but was caught by the stunning blow of the Warforged. That was the last mistake this creature would ever make. Its body dropped lifeless like a lump of meat.
Now the heat was growing and it was not the sun burning in his eyes. The sight of orcs in the nearby woods released him on another blind charge. Swing after swing he pushed away his thought, his fear and his doubt. Every chop, every drop of blood made him happy, gave him meaning again. Then he stopped.
He had been running away from the city for quite a while now and the only thing he could spot, that made him recognize his position, was the Stormreach light tower. The golden light beam was always there on the horizon. A light of hope when he first arrived in Stormreach and a beacon to go back to now.
This was the first time he really looked around in this overgrown place of murder. The blood was dripping from his axe and dozens of orcs, bugbears and wolves had fallen to his rage. He felt a strange sensation, something that his old masters called "guilt". But then he remembered a story he heard in the city about the orcs and their ruthless approach against the farmers of the city. The hills were not just only the outside of the city, they were a farming area. He heard the people and some farmers, that have left their fields, talking about the orcs, who claimed the ruins to be sacred and not to be approached nor used as farming ground.
He never understood the fleshlings focus on believe and gods. He was looking down on the ruins, the white marble pillars and broken walls, that were scattered around the landscape. Inside the city everything was brown stone, but out here, all was white and green and full of life. A nearby shrine of Arawai was the reason for that, or so the farmers believed. They had been praying there to Arawai to get rid of the undead, that arose from time to time out of their fields and threatened their families.
Slowly but steadily he was walking back towards the city, past walls that had been broken apart by time and its power, or by water and the ever growing jungle, that was taking back what once was his. A new river had found its way through the ruins. It ran past the walls, past the pillars, towards the city, just like the lonely Warforged, that was cooling his feet in the slowly flowing waters.
The jungle wanted to take back the land it once owned. The orcs claimed their ruins to be sacred and untouchable. The lions were roaring their demand for lordship over the landscape. The river was taking more and more of Eberron's body, digging its way deeper down into the land. And just like all those, that were demanding something... Alabaster desired, like nothing else, freedom.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Low Road – Entax
They call me Warforged. But there is no war I could be forged for. They say it is over for two years now. They say they don’t built Warforged any more. But I don’t remember a war or that I was built and when and where and who ... All I remember is that there was Sharn and I was right in it. Well Sharn did not get in me though. I felt useless there. I saw other Warforged like me looking for something. Then I saw this one Forged who took up guard duty in the Morgrave Museum. He was standing besides this vase under glass becoming a relict as he guarded them. They could have built the glass around him letting the vase stand guard. Then I knew that I had to go. I heard about this place Stormreach far away. Far away ... that was exactly where I wanted to go.
The people on the ship where all quite like me, forged or not. They had no place to go and nothing to do or they wanted to make a fortune in the ancient ruins. I don’t need a fortune. But if it comes my way way should I turn away? And so I came to Stormreach. Did not quite look like Sharn. Not so high. Not so dark. No Rain. But something was quite the same. The humies. Running around like they knew where to go. And something elso was the same: I did not! The humies from the ship all went getting a room in the inn. I do not need that. I do not sleep. So I went along the streets picking up conversations. There had to be something interesting here!
A Guard stepped in my path. I almost did not see the small man. He asked me if I were one of the new adventurers coming to Stormreach looking for Gold in the Ruins and Fame and something like that. He was partly right so I grumbled and nodded to him. He then told me something about a ‘Low Road’. A connection between the Harbor and the aspirants corner through the old ruins underneath Stormreach filled with hideous monstrosities. He told me he made a bet with one of the other guards about newcomers going that way alive. I did not really see the point in it as going through the gate directly to the aspirants corner seemed so much easier. He asked me if I was afraid. I heard that before: Fear. Someone explained to me that fear is the need to avoid all things that pose a threat to damage or even destroy you. I agree with that. But then I learned that humies are also afraid of things of little threat like spiders or mice. I will hang on to the first explanation as it suits me. But in this case I saw no immediate threat since I did not know what was down there and I had nothing better to do. Besides the guard mentioned some coins for the first to go that way and I had a few scratches on me that needed to get fixed. So down I went.
As I took my first steps in the sewers I saw a Kobold. There are Kobolds in Sharn too. My definition of fear works on Kobolds. Kobolds are afraid of everything and everything poses a thread to a Kobolds health. This one was armed and obviously standing guard. I chuckled as I imagined him talking to some other Kobold about a ‘High Road’. The rattling of my armor plates alarmed him and as I thought he ran away. “This will be easy” I thought just before I heard the gong sound. He came back with another armed Kobold. The two of them really thought they could take me down. They could not!
After I finished the second one I advanced further down the tunnel which split into two tunnels leading down each with a door blocking further sight. The door to the right was guarded by another Kobold. The guarded way seemed more promising so I advanced that way finishing the guard with ease. But he left a new scratch on me. “This better pays off!” I thought. I entered the room beyond only to see that I stepped into a trap! The doors closed and two Kobolds emerged from their hiding places. I have to admit these Stormreach Kobolds are a better breed than those of Sharn. They managed to scratch me once more. I had to be more careful if this should not leave me in a worse state than I was before.
Leaving the small room I entered a huge chamber filled with greenish water. A little jump and I was down in it. When I get out I would have to wash this off. Humies tend to act funny when I am soaked up with slimy stuff like this. I noticed a Pipe leading further east. Which by all I knew was the right direction. But that way was blocked by a gate. On both sides of the chamber where ladders leading up to ledges. “Maybe there I can open the Gate” I thought and I was right. Half way up the first ladder I heard a snorling sound. More Kobolds! But unaware of my presence and fully asleep. “Easy pray” I thought as I sneaked up to the creature but I never was a good sneak. Before I reached the beast it jumped up and attacked me. Not that it posed any threat but it made me angry. As I flew in a rage I remembered the words of my commanding officer while I tried to apply for the Sharn watch. “Watch your temper” He always told me “you are leaving your guard down when you get angry” I never agreed. Why keep your guard up and let your foe beat you when you can take him down with some forceful blows. So this is what I did. Angry I jumped up the second ladder grabbed a crate next to me and threw it at the half-awake Kobold. This send him stumbling back and I charged him against the Wall. Right through the wall if the creature were any more solid that the glibbering slime down in the water. And he was even softer now. After I used the controls on the ledges the way in the pipe was free and since I do not need to breathe getting through was no problem at all.
There it was: light. Finally through. Now I could collect the money and get my repairs done. But one more Kobold was blocking my way. All adorned with pearls and bones and ragged clothing probably markings of his rank. Battling him could result in further damage, so I tried another approach. I walked directly towards him and as he readied for combat I gestured to clam him. I approached him and held my hammer up for the creature to see. “See that? All soaked in Kobold blood. Want yours on it too? I’m just passing through here. Now get out of my way or I’ll smash you” That worked! The Kobold ran past me and dived in the water out of sight. A high ranking Kobold? A lair of a high ranking Kobold? Well that could give me some extra loot to pay for my repair needs. I found a worn piece of leather armor and some gold pieces. Good enough to begin with. That covered my expenses and the next day I was good as new. The guard gave me a new shiny hammer well balanced and good fitting.
That was my first Day in stormreach. Promising but not even close to what was waiting for me. But that my friends is another ... no actually many many more stories.
Monday, July 31, 2006
The Millers Debt - Berimar Swiftfoot
This is a draft, an example of how you can enhance quests in DDO. If you have better ideas, write them in the comments then the story can be enhanced. The changes must be technically possible, so do keep them somewhat "simple", we all know Pen and Paper can provide much more possibilites.
It was a rainy night in Stormreach as i finally arrived in the lower harbor area. The rain was falling down like there was no tomorrow and the soaking wet and dirty streets smelled like there was someone lying somewhere who has no tomorrow. I got off the ship and made myself comfortable in this little stinking tavern, where i got into trouble with some strange maniac that was babbling about a dark god or something... i killed him. I knew from that very moment on, that i arrived in a dark town.
To take a mans live in the first night of your arrival is not something you can joke about. Especially if that someone was talking about a dark god. Maniacs, there always the same. After that stupid guard let me pass onto the upper harbor area, i met someone i knew, i should not fool around with. He was one of the coin lords, his name was Berrigan Enge. He told me about a friend of a friend that i could work for, if i would grant him a favour. That sounded like a fair deal, at least in the beginning, and a way to get a foot into the door of the high society.
He told me to gather some money that a miller owed him. Money gathering... that was something i was doing on a regular basis in Sharn, so why not try to get in this business again? Nice one... a miller should not be much trouble, at least that was what i thought.
As i arrived at the millers house, i walked up to the door and knocked, but nobody opened. I let myself in and searched the upper floors but found nothing. It seemed a bit strange, cause it was in the mid of the day as i arrived at his house. From that moment on, i was a bit more caucious of the situation. It seemed stupid enough not to pay your bills to one of the most powerfull people in town, but not to work in the middle of the day, when your in the minus, was even more stupid.
I found a cellar door which lead to the basement of the building and i entered. There i saw it the beauty of this town. Deep cellars beneath every house, build out of the old ruins, out of the walls and hallways of the giants. It would be impossible for someone in Sharn to have that much space in his basement.
Every room down here seemed be full of crates. I walked up to one of the crates and opened it. There was no flour in it, it was alcohol! The Miller seemed to be smuggler, but that was no surprise i guess even the Coin Lord himself earned some extra money from smuggling, or at least from not mentioning someone who does. Why did he not pay the Coin Lord then?... I sneaked forward not to run into a trap and heard metallic growling from the lower part of the cellar.
Metallic growling? Defenders! In millers cellar that was as big as a rich man's in Sharn? The whole situation seemed to be getting weirder with every second. I knew those metallic beast were not really intelligent, so i opened a door and smashed a crate to get their attention... as they entered the room i closed the door shut. So much for the "defenders"...
The next room had an even bigger scale than all the other hallways; big stones that only giants could have moved, formed archs for the entrypoints and the ceiling was also held by big stone bars. The room had gloomy feeling and it was lit in a redish light that was pulsing from the floor. Someone tried to quash the lights and ripped them out of the ceiling. I carefully looked around and heard a very silent cough from behind one of the crates in the edge of the room. Sneaking over some of the crates, I got nearer and found a man shiffering and cowering on the floor.
I jumped him and he cried out, but then he stuttered "No please dont kill me, i... i know Berrigan wants his money, but... but i got problems.. as you surely noticed the crates are full of alcohol. This alcohol belongs to the quickfoot gang. Those bastards forced me into this." He looked pretty scared and i believed him. I know how hard those thieves guilds can be, from personal experience. After i calmed him and told him that i would not harm him, but help him, he told me they've put those defenders in the cellar to keep him quiet.
He showed me the room where he kept his goods and said that another, even deadlier iron defender, was waiting inside and was holding him off to get his own goods and deliver them to the coin lord. He asked me to pay off Berrigan so he has a chance to get the deal with the Quickfoot Gang done and earn his own freedom, but i had a much better idea.
If this Defender was even more deadly than the other ones, then there must be something else in that room. Something the quickfoot gang thought would be worth some trouble. Stealing stuff from a thieves guild that behaved like mudering bastards, seemed very pleasing to me. So i told the Miller to hide somewhere while i get this Defender done.
Several ideas came to mind:
- Kill the beast from above... they should not be able to climb up those crates and they are dead stupid
- Lure him into a trap, perhaps a web or a simple animal trap..
- Sneak past him
- Try to get the password to deactivate him, i found a rumpled piece of paper in the dirt at the beginning of the cellar.. that COULD be the password..
I thought it would be most elegant to let the beast out and try the password. So i opened the door and jumped up on those crates. Only a second after i opened the door the iron defender charged out of the room and tried to reach me on the crates... he could jump on one crate, but i climbed up two and everytime he tried to reach me, he fell down and i heard an angry growling deep within his throat. I tried the password and shouted "millercellar" at it. It stopped its movement and i heard a strange humming sound comming from within the creature. It seemed save to come down now and i was right.
Now it was easy for me to claim the goods, that the miller and Berrigan wanted to have. The quickfoot gang really placed a chest in here and as i walked up to it the Defender spit out a key to open it. Nice idea guys.. next time you really should try to find better people who do not throw away pieces of paper, with passwords written on them. I stole from thieves... which is always the nieces way of stealing, cause it feels sooo right.
I walked to the place the miller was hiding and gave him a part of his goods so he could sell them for some money. He was so greatful that he gave me a nice set of Thieves Tools, one of the Quickfoot Thieves lost in here.
I made my way back to Berrigan Enge and brought him the wanted goods. He was really greatfull and gave me 5 gold pieces for this work... which is something like a robbery itself, but what was i expecting from a money hungry bastard... suddenly i felt that even so far away from Sharn, many things were just the same and others did change really drastically on the journey to Stormreach. I changed...
It was a rainy night in Stormreach as i finally arrived in the lower harbor area. The rain was falling down like there was no tomorrow and the soaking wet and dirty streets smelled like there was someone lying somewhere who has no tomorrow. I got off the ship and made myself comfortable in this little stinking tavern, where i got into trouble with some strange maniac that was babbling about a dark god or something... i killed him. I knew from that very moment on, that i arrived in a dark town.
To take a mans live in the first night of your arrival is not something you can joke about. Especially if that someone was talking about a dark god. Maniacs, there always the same. After that stupid guard let me pass onto the upper harbor area, i met someone i knew, i should not fool around with. He was one of the coin lords, his name was Berrigan Enge. He told me about a friend of a friend that i could work for, if i would grant him a favour. That sounded like a fair deal, at least in the beginning, and a way to get a foot into the door of the high society.
He told me to gather some money that a miller owed him. Money gathering... that was something i was doing on a regular basis in Sharn, so why not try to get in this business again? Nice one... a miller should not be much trouble, at least that was what i thought.
As i arrived at the millers house, i walked up to the door and knocked, but nobody opened. I let myself in and searched the upper floors but found nothing. It seemed a bit strange, cause it was in the mid of the day as i arrived at his house. From that moment on, i was a bit more caucious of the situation. It seemed stupid enough not to pay your bills to one of the most powerfull people in town, but not to work in the middle of the day, when your in the minus, was even more stupid.
I found a cellar door which lead to the basement of the building and i entered. There i saw it the beauty of this town. Deep cellars beneath every house, build out of the old ruins, out of the walls and hallways of the giants. It would be impossible for someone in Sharn to have that much space in his basement.
Every room down here seemed be full of crates. I walked up to one of the crates and opened it. There was no flour in it, it was alcohol! The Miller seemed to be smuggler, but that was no surprise i guess even the Coin Lord himself earned some extra money from smuggling, or at least from not mentioning someone who does. Why did he not pay the Coin Lord then?... I sneaked forward not to run into a trap and heard metallic growling from the lower part of the cellar.
Metallic growling? Defenders! In millers cellar that was as big as a rich man's in Sharn? The whole situation seemed to be getting weirder with every second. I knew those metallic beast were not really intelligent, so i opened a door and smashed a crate to get their attention... as they entered the room i closed the door shut. So much for the "defenders"...
The next room had an even bigger scale than all the other hallways; big stones that only giants could have moved, formed archs for the entrypoints and the ceiling was also held by big stone bars. The room had gloomy feeling and it was lit in a redish light that was pulsing from the floor. Someone tried to quash the lights and ripped them out of the ceiling. I carefully looked around and heard a very silent cough from behind one of the crates in the edge of the room. Sneaking over some of the crates, I got nearer and found a man shiffering and cowering on the floor.
I jumped him and he cried out, but then he stuttered "No please dont kill me, i... i know Berrigan wants his money, but... but i got problems.. as you surely noticed the crates are full of alcohol. This alcohol belongs to the quickfoot gang. Those bastards forced me into this." He looked pretty scared and i believed him. I know how hard those thieves guilds can be, from personal experience. After i calmed him and told him that i would not harm him, but help him, he told me they've put those defenders in the cellar to keep him quiet.
He showed me the room where he kept his goods and said that another, even deadlier iron defender, was waiting inside and was holding him off to get his own goods and deliver them to the coin lord. He asked me to pay off Berrigan so he has a chance to get the deal with the Quickfoot Gang done and earn his own freedom, but i had a much better idea.
If this Defender was even more deadly than the other ones, then there must be something else in that room. Something the quickfoot gang thought would be worth some trouble. Stealing stuff from a thieves guild that behaved like mudering bastards, seemed very pleasing to me. So i told the Miller to hide somewhere while i get this Defender done.
Several ideas came to mind:
- Kill the beast from above... they should not be able to climb up those crates and they are dead stupid
- Lure him into a trap, perhaps a web or a simple animal trap..
- Sneak past him
- Try to get the password to deactivate him, i found a rumpled piece of paper in the dirt at the beginning of the cellar.. that COULD be the password..
I thought it would be most elegant to let the beast out and try the password. So i opened the door and jumped up on those crates. Only a second after i opened the door the iron defender charged out of the room and tried to reach me on the crates... he could jump on one crate, but i climbed up two and everytime he tried to reach me, he fell down and i heard an angry growling deep within his throat. I tried the password and shouted "millercellar" at it. It stopped its movement and i heard a strange humming sound comming from within the creature. It seemed save to come down now and i was right.
Now it was easy for me to claim the goods, that the miller and Berrigan wanted to have. The quickfoot gang really placed a chest in here and as i walked up to it the Defender spit out a key to open it. Nice idea guys.. next time you really should try to find better people who do not throw away pieces of paper, with passwords written on them. I stole from thieves... which is always the nieces way of stealing, cause it feels sooo right.
I walked to the place the miller was hiding and gave him a part of his goods so he could sell them for some money. He was so greatful that he gave me a nice set of Thieves Tools, one of the Quickfoot Thieves lost in here.
I made my way back to Berrigan Enge and brought him the wanted goods. He was really greatfull and gave me 5 gold pieces for this work... which is something like a robbery itself, but what was i expecting from a money hungry bastard... suddenly i felt that even so far away from Sharn, many things were just the same and others did change really drastically on the journey to Stormreach. I changed...
The Characters
Berimar Swiftfoot - Halfling Rogue chaotic neutral
A simple man from the streets of Sharn, who got forced to leave his hometown and friends because of some trouble with the local thieves guild. He jumped on a boat that should deliver him to another city, but he ended up in Stormreach. He thought his stars were set and he should see this as new beginning, even a way to cleanse himself of things he does not like to remember.
Entax - WF Barbar true neutral
A lost soul of the Last War. He awoke in the streets of Sharn with his memories erased. He has no past and sees no future. The actual pleasure of living is his main motivation. Every new experience he has broadens his sense of the world and therefore he is very eager to meet new challenges and new areas, so he left for the so called "City of Dungeons" - Stormreach.
Darina - Dwarfen Cleric lawful neutral
As a cleric of the silver flame she always followed the order of the higher priest, but then she was betrayed and left the main continent to follow her true purpose, to destroy evil and its roots wherever possible.
Thalassar - Human Wizard true neutral
------- flesh it out yourself
Xintaxa - Drow Ranger chaotic neutral
------- flesh it out yourself
A simple man from the streets of Sharn, who got forced to leave his hometown and friends because of some trouble with the local thieves guild. He jumped on a boat that should deliver him to another city, but he ended up in Stormreach. He thought his stars were set and he should see this as new beginning, even a way to cleanse himself of things he does not like to remember.
Entax - WF Barbar true neutral
A lost soul of the Last War. He awoke in the streets of Sharn with his memories erased. He has no past and sees no future. The actual pleasure of living is his main motivation. Every new experience he has broadens his sense of the world and therefore he is very eager to meet new challenges and new areas, so he left for the so called "City of Dungeons" - Stormreach.
Darina - Dwarfen Cleric lawful neutral
As a cleric of the silver flame she always followed the order of the higher priest, but then she was betrayed and left the main continent to follow her true purpose, to destroy evil and its roots wherever possible.
Thalassar - Human Wizard true neutral
------- flesh it out yourself
Xintaxa - Drow Ranger chaotic neutral
------- flesh it out yourself
About Rewritten
Rewritten was born from the idea of writing a story about the quests you play in Dungeons and Dragons Online. But as i and many other d&d players were frustrated of the few possibilities to solve a dungeon, it came to mind, that it would be nice to enhance the possibilities while writing the stories.
This surely can be a big amount of work for the bigger quests, but as i think writing nice stories is fun, enhancing the basic stories of DDO is even more fun. In addition its a constructive way of criticism for Turbine and a compliment for their well build basic stories.
If someone who reads this wants to contribute, feel free to contact me, as this was meant to be from the beginning. There is a party of five heros and every quest can be written from the perspective of one of those. To keep the stories and the style the same for those characters, every character should get his own author. I started with Berimar Swiftfoot a halfling rogue, but there are characters left:
This is not meant to be bashing, or plain negative criticism of Turbine or DDO. It is a great game with the best and most entertaining quests i ever played in an MMO. This is a compliment and a way for a fan to provide more background, constructive criticism, ideas, nice stories for players to read about a game i and many others are very amazed about.
This surely can be a big amount of work for the bigger quests, but as i think writing nice stories is fun, enhancing the basic stories of DDO is even more fun. In addition its a constructive way of criticism for Turbine and a compliment for their well build basic stories.
If someone who reads this wants to contribute, feel free to contact me, as this was meant to be from the beginning. There is a party of five heros and every quest can be written from the perspective of one of those. To keep the stories and the style the same for those characters, every character should get his own author. I started with Berimar Swiftfoot a halfling rogue, but there are characters left:
- Entax, a Warforged Barbarian
- Darina Lighthand, a Dwarfen Cleric of the Silver Flame
- Thalassar, a Human Wizard
- Xintaxa, a Drow Ranger
This is not meant to be bashing, or plain negative criticism of Turbine or DDO. It is a great game with the best and most entertaining quests i ever played in an MMO. This is a compliment and a way for a fan to provide more background, constructive criticism, ideas, nice stories for players to read about a game i and many others are very amazed about.
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