Legends of K'Darl #8 - Gambling Man

Upon arriving in Werdenton our group headed through the market, heading straight for the governor. As they wandered through the market, K'rang acquired himself a single steel gauntlet, but for what reason, no one knew.

Upon reaching the governors office, they were ushered inside by his guards. They began to question him about the other group that had been sent here, only to find out that no such group had arrived. Our band of fearless *ahem* warriors thanked the governor and headed to speak with the guards.

The captain of the guard had little more information for them, only being able to tell them of the attacks, all of which sound the same as those they had experienced previously. 

Deciding that they would learn nothing new here, the group headed to the inn. Upon entering, Joran immediately seeks out a group of gamblers and joins them in their card game. From his conversation with them, he gleaned that they had arrived recently, having passed through one of the attacked homesteads themselves. They could offer little in the way of additional information, re-itterating what they already knew. They did, however, show Joran a sword which they had recovered from the wreckage. They were even willing to sell it.

Joran, ever the gambler, looked at the sword and said "Let's make this interesting." The hush that fell over the table was palpable. "If I win" continued Joran "I get the sword. If you win, you get 70 Gold." He looked at the trader, trying to gauge his reaction.

He answered almost immediately "If I win, lets make it 100 gold." Joran agreed and they picked up their dice, rolling them on the table. They clattered and then came to a stop, with the trader scoring higher and looking very smug "Looks like i've got some gold" he grins slightly "unless you wanna' call it double or nothing?"

Joran, sweating slightly, agrees to this and both once again roll their dice. Again, the trader wins. Now looking rather pleased with himself, he looks to Joran. Joran, managing to hide his worry behind a mask of pure calm says "One more game. 300 gold for you if you win." The trader, his mind fogged by the thought of such riches, agrees. Once again they pick up their dice and roll, the crowd around the table holding its collective breath.

The dice come to a stop and a sigh of relief leaves Jorans lips as he sees he has beaten the trader. Crestfallen, the trader says "So, you've beaten me at last. Who says I need to give you the sword though?" In answer, the E.M.W levels his spear at the traders throat and says "I do."

The trader, rather hastily it may be added, gave the sword to Joran. The group, happy at their comrades victory, observe the sword and see that it belonged to one of the kings guard. This didn't bode well as to their fate.

Deciding that they could do with the rest, they retired to their rooms, ready to start again in the morning.

Benson & Hector #2 - Better luck!

The sun was high in the sky, glaring down angrily at the world below, as it let its heat pound on those  that were foolhardy enough to venture out into it. The horizon line shimmered and danced and every tree and building was greeted with joy, granting short salvation in the form of cool shade.

The farm lay deadly silent, not like its usual midday bustling self. Crows chirped around, looking at the stains on the ground. A short distance away from the farm there stood the remains of a great fire, still smouldering.

All was quiet.

Over the horizon, there appeared 2 silhouettes, walking along the road from the capital. As they got closer to the farm, they went from being wobbly black silhouettes to the outlines of two men, one tall and thin, one smaller and wider. They walked along, and as they were nearly upon the farm, there conversation could be overheard (if there had been anyone to overhear it that is). The shorter of the two seemed to be in disagreement with his traveling companion, and wasn't afraid to show it.

"I just don't see why we should trust him again Hector, that's all. I mean, he didn't tell us nothing about what was in that soup. Supposing we had had a little morsel ourselves eh? I for one would not have enjoyed those consequences, not if the rumours going around were true." He stopped his rant only to shudder and looked as though he was about to continue, but his companion, Hector, cut him off.

"Relax Benson. I told you, we didn't have any so it's all good. What are we, amateurs? Besides, Marcus has never steered us wrong before now has he? The message said he has some high value goods that need to be out of his possession pronto. Once we get them to another city it's fair game, and we will be rolling gold. Come on Benson, cheer up!" With that he stopped to lean on a wall on the outskirts of the farm, close by to the remains of the fire. He took a skin from his hip and drained the water held within.

Benson looked around nervously while his friend drank. "How can you be so calm in a place like this?" He glanced over to the remains of the fire, still smouldering. "What do you think happened here anyway?"

Hector stored his water skin and looked over the scene in front of him. He knew the old man that owned this farm. He wasn't close friends by any account, but they had stopped on their travels in the past, sharing a mug of ale and a story or two, even staying in the barn when there travels had not gone as swiftly as they would like. Yet now, the farm was deathly quiet. The old man was nowhere to be seen. As Hector glanced across the path further up the road, he saw what looked like dried blood.

"You know Benson, for once you might not be far off with that bad feeling of yours. Looks to me like something bad happened here, and I sure as hell don't wanna' hang around to find out for myself." With that, he turned to continue up the road, but stopped almost instantly as a glint caught his eye.

Years in the business of buying and selling goods (not always acquired in lawful ways) had taught Hector two things. The first was to never trust anyone, no matter how often you deal with them. The second thing was the amazing ability to spot expensive gear a mile off. So, when he spotted a glint coming from the pile of ash, he knew it was valuable.

"On second thoughts, let's just take a look over here shall we?" and with that, he trotted off over the grass, heading towards the smouldering mound. Benson looked around nervously and then followed him, glancing around as he did.

Once close enough, Hector saw that the shiny object was a very very expensive looking sword, with a heavily ornate pommel. He could almost hear the sound of gold raining down on him as he reached out and pulled it from the wreckage. 

"Benson, I think someone up there likes us." He hung the sword through his belt and turned back towards the road. Benson, as always, followed his friend, still glancing around. "What is the owner comes looking for it though?"

Hector stopped. "Benson, for once, can we not just enjoy the moment. The owner must be dead, burnt with the rest of them. Lucky for us this sword wasn't damaged too. Now, just relax, and let's get going. We've got some money to make."

Cities of K'Darl #2 - Werdenton

Werdenton sprung into existence around the monument of King Jarraxe Britemane, built some 500 years previously. Used initially as a meeting point for traders, eventually stalls and living quarters were built around the area and before too long, a small village had been established. As time rolled ever onwards, the village are into a town and then, inevitably, into a city. They occupants named it 'Werdenton' after the Dwarfish traveller that had overseen the construction of the monument and had, for many years, helped grow the community and industry. 

Looking at Werdenton now though, we see a completely different city. Now considered the kingdoms industrial capital, Werdenton is a vast city of building, welding, smithies and all other manner of fabrication you can think of. Its proximity to the Kaba-San mountains mean it has a rich supply of raw minerals and other materials.

There is practically no residential area to speak of, as most of the residents live above their respected shops. The city boasts only one inn, though it is likely the largest in the kingdom, playing host to all the travelling traders that pass through.

Hidden amongst the various shops, trading stalls, smithies, jewellers and mining contractors, is the towering monument of King Jarraxe Britemane the First. Used now as it always has been as a meeting place, it is the only square in the city where you won't find any stalls or shops.

Cities of K'Darl #1 - Kreshington

Around 500 years ago, King Jarraxe Britemane commissioned six monuments of himself to be constructed around K'Darl. One of these was to the West, near the old town of Telwin. Those who had worked on the construction of the monument here had settled in the area and, over time, the small encampment grew and grew until it became a bustling town in its own right. Then, as fashions changed and time passed, people abandoned their old town of Telwin to seek out a new life in the new city of Krashington, so named after the great Dragonborn warrior Krash, who had been sent to oversee the construction of the monument and had, later, returned to govern the city and found the great school of war there.

If we pull ourselves from the distant past and look at Kreshington, its name having changed somewhere along the line, as it is today, we see a very similar scene to that which would have presented itself all those years ago.

The city is surrounded by a great wall, with guards patrolling day and night, more out of tradition than because of any real threat. The guard is commanded by twelve Dragonborn captains, each of whom serve for one year after graduating from the Academy of war before they leave to pursue their own career. This ensures little or no corruption, as there are no 'old hands' that are set in their own ways.

If we venture inside the city wall, we will find ourselves in the bustling market sector. The market hugs the inside of the wall all the way around, making it easier for passing traders and travellers to buy and sell goods without having to move through the entire city. The proximity of the city to the western port of K'Darl means that many traders from abroad stop here before continuing across the island, providing a rich trading community.

Just past the market sector is the residential area. This is where the majority of the population live and socialise, in the various taverns and inns. Most of the jobs in the city are either selling on the market or working in the taverns.

The only other jobs are in the city guard, and at the Academy, which stood just past the the residential area. Consisting of the tallest buildings in the city, the Academy was visible throughout the city. Dragonborn from all over the known world come here to train in the ways of combat and war. The top 12 graduates every year serve as the captains of the guard for the following year. This is considered a great honour. The only other thing of note is the statue of King Jarraxe Britemane the First, which stands in the centre of the city. 

The city's motto is carved above doors, on buildings and on every gate into the city. It is "Only through flame is the true path revealed." 

Legends of K'Darl #7 - Bound for Werdenton

Our group of daring adventurers *cough splutter cough* set out from the capital, heading North East towards the industrial city of Werdenton. As they travelled further North the winds grew colder, and the group came across more of the attacked farms and smallholdings, each of them showing the same signs of an attack and slaughter, with a pyre smouldering close by where the bodies had been cremated. They met no travellers on the road, which was odd given Werdenton was known as the industrial capital of K'Darl. Yet in their three day journey, the roads remained still and silent. 

They finally arrived in Werdenton on the evening of the third day. Guards were posted around the outer city wall but they waved them through. They asked what business our group had in Werdenton, and so they explained they were looking for the unit that was sent some weeks ago. The guards looked at each other, then back to our gang, telling them that no other group had been received there in Werdenton.

With no clear answer presenting itself and no further leads to go on, our group headed to City's statue of King Britemane the First, eager to see if they would discover similar hidden secrets to those they found in Kreshington.

And now for something completely different!

I've only really posted story fluff on this page recently. Following the adventures of our heroic *cough cough* group of warriors, we've travelled far across K'Darl, seen them conquer unearthly foes and meet interesting characters. We've also seen the world from behind the eyes of some of the NPC characters. I hope you've been enjoying reading about their adventures (or more often, misadventures) as much as I've been enjoying writing them.

Today, however, I thought I would unveil the real life piece of terrain I've built to represent the monuments of King Jarraxe Britemane the First. 

Sculpted wielding his infamous daggers, Pity and Fool, and wearing the skin of a great wolf that his majesty himself slew whilst touring the Kingdom.

There's a more detailed post on my other blog about how I built it, but wanted to share it with my fellow fans of K'Darl!

Hope you like it guys!

Views from an NPC #1 - Librarian

*This entry takes place at the same time as 'Legends of K'Darl #6'*

Beatrice had been the head librarian in the capital for nearly 40 years. She had overcome so much to attain such a high title. Beatrice was a dwarf, you see, and therefore couldn't reach any higher than 3, maybe 4, shelves. It didn't matter much here in the grand library, where ladders on tracks were fitted, meaning anyone could reach any book, even those hidden far above in the darkness. It had, however, hindered her in her younger years while training. The ridicule she had endured. The mockery and comments and laughter she had had to listen to every day. It had all made her so angry, though with years of practise, she had learnt to control her anger.

Right now, that control was slipping. For the past week, a group of miscreants had been stinking up the library, hardly ever leaving. Most of them had been sleeping here even. As Beatrice organised a pile of books, she thought back on the past week. The first had been annoying, dropping books around left right and centre, no respect for them at all. He had smelt awful that one, like he had spent a day and a night on a privy and forgotten to wipe.

Then, the rest of them had turned up, apparently companions of the first. There was the she elf, who insisted on prancing about and informing all she could of how tragic her life had been. There was not one, but two dragonborn. Both were stereotypically moody, stomping about the place, scaring other readers. At least she knew what all these were though. They also had in their company a walking suit of armour who, she had been alarmed to find out, could talk. He was extremely rude and made an awful noise when he walked around, creaking and clunking. The last was...well, she wasn't sure what it was. It appeared to be a man, though such a hulking brute she had never seen in her life. Where its stomach would normally be flat, there was an evil squiggly face grinning out at her. She hadn't dared look at it for more than a few seconds, but she knew she didn't like it.

She would have kicked them all out, barring the door behind them, but she had been informed that they were here on royal business. So, she put up with the noise, the mud, the unsavoury noises, the constant presence, the smell and, most irritating of all, the complete lack of respect for the organisational system.

Yes, she put up with it all, as she had put up with everything all her life. She slowly rose from her desk, picking up the stack of neatly organised books as she went, ready to place them back in their proper places. As she turned, she collided with something and was sent reeling backwards, the books scattered, their pages getting ripped and bent. As she looked around, she saw that the group of miscreants had been walking out of the library, and the hulking mass with the squiggly face had knocked her with his arm. They all walked onwards, completely oblivious. She watched as they left, leaving a lingering smell and a muddy trail behind them.

Beatrice sighed and started to gather her books.