2012 RP Campaign (Open Campaign)

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

It was the beginning of the evening in the city of Mittelmarch. The shops were closing up, children were called in to dinner, and the watch was beginning their shift. Amazingly there was peace among the city and Storm, the recently appointed Warlord, stood on the balcony as the sun was setting watching the city he had come to call home, and now ruled and protected.

He smiled and turned when he heard the servant girl bring his dinner and place it on his desk. He sat down and opened a book and grabbed for his quill and started writing.

“March 27, year 11 of the Third Age
I’ve started writing this journal since the forces of Mittelmarch took her back. I can still recall the last charge into the inner keep and the end of Harrow. It was a beautiful site seeing all the men, who love this city, risking their lives and for that I will forever have respect for them. With Harrow sliding off my sword and the men chanting my name, it was very humbling to see that they saw to me as the leader they needed, when I knew that someone like Nichtmar or Rune would have been a much better choice. But I couldn’t decline because the city needs hope and a light, and I thank Paladine that I became what they needed. The repairs to the walls have been coming along nicely, all thanks to Baethor and his dwarves returning from the mountains. Rune has increased drills in the guardsmen to keep their edge, and to also keep watch to make sure that another Harrow doesn’t appear at my request. It is an interesting relationship we have me as his page but I as the warlord. I pray that this peace last for a long time so we can recover from the damage Harrow caused and move forward.”

Storm sighed and put his quill down and pushed the book away and looked at some of the reports on his desk. Minor things like Jovian soldier sentences and the budgets until there was a knock at the door

“Enter,” Storm said as he took a bite into his dinner not even looking up from his papers.

A Defender scout entered and saluted Storm, “Commander Anvil sends these scouting reports and his regards to you sir. Said the one on the top was of upmost importance”

“Ah, well done soldier, you’re the dismissed. Send my regards to Anvil as well and good hunting out there."

With that the Defender saluted and left the room. Storm looked up and grabbed the first report and opened it. The report detailed that things were normal; the incident in Mittelmarch hadn’t made it far past the country side which made Storm happy because he wouldn’t have to worry about insurgents in the country side. As he got closer to the bottom, there was a sentence that made him excited but at the same time concerned with if anyone else had this information.

“Oliver,” Storm cried, “come here please!”

Oliver, one of the soldiers under Storm’s command during the final rush, and newly appointed aide, entered the room.

“Yes sir?” Oliver saluted

“At ease Oliver, I need you send a notice to all the guard for a meeting in the morning, I have something I need to discuss. Also assemble others of importance in the city”

“Whatever for, is something the matter?”

“All will be explained, just please do as I ask.”

“Right away sir,” Oliver saluted and left the room.

Storm stood from his desk and paced, anticipating the talk he would have the following morning…

The guards were gathered and were talking to themselves about what the Warlord had wanted with them. Some thought promotions were in order after the assault; others thought reparations were coming for poor performance. All in all the soldiers stopped talking as soon as they saw Storm walk through the door. He walked towards the front of the room and stared at them. At once they got into formation and saluted.

“At ease gentlemen and circle around. I have something to show you,” Storm said and laid a map on the table in front of him. He spread out the map of the LBTL that had some circles drawn on it.

“Alright guardsmen, there’s a bit of a problem on our hands. When you all appointed me Warlord my first act was to send out some spies to search around for something. Something of intense power and has been a pain in Mittelmarch’s side as long as I have been here. Well last night we found it, the Azoth Gate. It’s in the south, heading towards the Mourna Ruins close to Fangorn.”

Storm looked up from the map to the men with a stern face and walked to look everyone of them in the eye.

"I know you have given up much to get our city back and I know that what I ask is crazy and will risk much, but I need men who are willing to trust me to help me retrieve it. I will be sending Sir Rune and Sir Nichtmar on this operation if that offers any comfort. Now who will join them?”

[ziglerrobertson]

A few days earlier along the east side of the Iron Mountains:

Once put back on the path by the Hooded Man, the dwarf had spent little time in making his way south where he was set upon by a small band of undead. Proving himself of Greater Magik's the band led Zigler back towards their encampment. Thus the Demon Dwarf known as Zigler Robertson became the Leader/General of the hundred 'strong' undead warriors left over (escaped?) from Kanthea and the Army of Giggles.

For the past two weeks Zigler forced them to search the Iron Mountains for a clue or sign as to where the Azoth Gate might be hidden until finally one of the scouts reported success. Upon a flat cliff-side of one of the smaller mountains was carved the symbol of a hammer. The undead surrounding the base of the cliff had already broken out digging equipment, however, at the touch of Zigler's hand the cliff-side parted and a sudden wind came from the passage therein. Bringing with it the smell of old and new death.

"A fi' five of yea come with me," commanded Zigler," the rest be settin' up a perimeter and gettin' set to leave south in a hurry should it be needed."

Twenty-five undead warriors and one Dwarf enter the passageway. Beyond the line of light given by the outside sun, bodies of goblins, trolls, and animal's lined the corridors walls. This then was the source of the stench, yet curiously enough even the latest dead seemed to be dry and brittle. As if drained of all their blood and fluids.

Finally after searching through a few store rooms and ascending a couple flights of stairs the group came to an iron bound wooded door. Inside was something akin to a cross between a smithy's forge, bedroom, kitchen and witches den. The stank of burnt blood hung in the air while the crystal of the Azoth Gate gave a harsh black red glow from an alter placed in the center of the room. The only thing living in the room were a pair of starved goblins, heavily chained to the wall near a cauldron of boiling blood.

Upon seeing the dwarf enter both creatures cowered against the wall, crying and pleading for mercy. "Four of you come in here and unchain these wretches." told Zigler to the group.

Upon being brought before him under the lights of torches the goblins calmed somewhat and after a few bits of stale bread from Zigler's pouch began talking about their captivity.

"Master, the evil man's name was Baethor, he said he needed our lives in order to save his city. He....."

"Enough! Out! All of yea! Strengthen the perimeter guard and be ready to leave on my say so," shouted Zigler. Both the undead and the goblins exited the room hastily, the goblin's tripping over their own feet in their hurry.

Wandering around the room, Zigler studies the various books and writings until his eyes fall upon a handwritten journal kept by his enigmatic Dwarven friend.

"26th Day;
Despite the addition of more blooded souls still the key escapes me. My hands and arms are now thoroughly covered by the blood of those creatures I've killed in order to see my city safe once again. I know this 'Gate' to be the source of the power I need, yet it remains closed to me. There are still other lines of chance that might unlock the 'Gate' but I hesitate to use them as it would mean killing those I mean to save from the horrors that now inhabit the Lands Between. This place, this haven of seclusion and privacy now soaks with the evil that I've done, I shall be quit of it and compose myself amongst the mountain passes. Perhaps I shall find another answer, if not.....

The passage ends ominously, and is several days old.

Dipping a quill into a nearby inkwell Zigler finishes off the page:

Laddie, this be not the way for you. I plead, return to the City, aid Storm. For with me gone he'll need another to provide wise council. Do not fear, I shall return with the means to assure the safety of the City. Look for me on the Southern Horizon.

Signed Z.R. this 15th Day of the Warlord Storm

Feeling oddly pulled, Zigler turns toward the middle of the room and approaches the Gate. Slowly he reaches out his bare hand to collect this object of power and,

Reality crumbled around Zigler and was replaced with the burning fires of Hell. His face becomes a mask of pain and a silent scream bursts from between his lips.

Ba'al Berith's powers stretched far and wide when Zigler first 'acquired' them. But even a Lord of Hell's powers were miniscule to what assailed the dwarf this time.

And once again Zigler was plunged into the Heart of the Storm.

"So here's the deal," says a new voice, "and its a real fluid deal at that because look around you at this vast weak land I can rule it I can rule it and nothing will stand in MY way. Strong men will weep at our coming and young maidens will hide in fear of our loins while their mothers beg for us to take them instead and what do you say what do you say does this appeal to you. Would you like to rule all men with but a slip of the tongue or maybe you would like to buy them with all the easily made gold we could make. Heh, it doesn't matter what you want, like those other men you are nothing but weak, I won't need you for long. "

And suddenly the voice was no longer around him no longer surrounding him but in him coming from his own lips his own voice and Zigler just could not take it he would not take he will not take I will not take it!........But it didn't work this time. The power was no longer his, it consumed him, became him, relived all that he knew and all that he had thought before his very eyes. The assault continued and it came from everywhere and every-when. Zigler was forced through barriers that lesser mortals could never attain, and wiser demons and elves knew better than to cross. The assault continued and poured in to his being, through his pores, his nose his every orifice, his mind his soul was filled with the ever present and ever-being powers that had been contained in the Azoth Gate.

And as Zigler's soul wept, he could hear three voices uplifted in laughter.....

With an evil grin Ba'al Zigler returns to the table and slams the journal closed then tosses it into the pot of boiling blood. Before exiting the hovel, he sets fire to the bed and a nearby bookshelf. The light of the flames are as nothing compared to the black red light of the Azoth Gate now embedded in Ba'al Zigler's chest, nor the purple flame emitted from his eyes.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Smoke pours out the sides of the Iron Mountains as if the very rocks were aflame. Seen for miles many small villages and farmers took to the hills, expecting to prevent a large forest fire. Upon discovery of the passage and further investigations the journal is found and messages sent on their way towards Mittelmarch and surrounding powers.

[Incognito]

A blue slithering mist seems to move around Zigler. It glides out in front and the head of it grows to the size of a wagon, a dragon's head in mist form.

"Zigler or Ba'al, doesn’t matter….It is I Leviathan, One of the seven princes of hell and gate keeper. I visit you in this harmless form to warn you, Lilith and Lucifer play their game, believing one of them will take the Dark Father’s throne. They believe they’re game is one by souls earned. They are mistaken, all souls taken by a demon blend with the Azoth Gate. The one demon who places the gate in its resting spot in Mourna will earn the power and blessing of the Dark Father. Ba’al, this power could be yours.”

Leviathan shrinks as he sliver’s around getting eye to eye to Ba’al.

“I guard the gate on the side of hell, letting none pass until the Azoth Gate is in place. Yet Lilith’s ancient army of vampires guards the side of the living. You will not be welcomed. She will kill you and take the gate along with the power. Lucifer attempts to delay, but his powers are limited, he will not succeed. But you can call upon a host of your demons to possess the living.”

He begins to fade.

“Do what you wish with my warnings, but know that soon hell will blanket these lands for years to come, you could be at the top or crushed down to the bottom. As for I and the other princes are happy with our current roles. So long friend.”

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Storm looked at the men he gathered and waited for their response. Murmuring pursued after his request and Storm expected as much. He knew he asked a lot of them with just taking back mittelmarch but at this point he had no choice because of the capabilities the Azoth Gate posed. Or at least the ones he imagined, which made his drive to find it before anyone else more important.

Sighing, Storm stood up and looked at his men.

“I realize that this is a tough decision so that is why I want to give you the day to think about it. Those that want to join Sir Rune and Sir Nichtmar at the front gate as soon as the sun meets the horizon. I will not look down on those that will stay behind because in my eyes, that means I still have men to keep the city safe while I am away, dismissed gentlemen!”

The guardsmen all saluted in unison and walked out the door to return to their posts. Storm exited from another door closer next to an alley as to avoid the crowds. He needed to be alone for awhile and to collect his bearings.

“Of all the things, not a single volunteer,” Storm said to himself as he turned a corner and walked up the stairs to the main keep, “I guess I can say that I can’t blame them with just ending the reign of Harrow they would be happy with the breathing room.”
He passed the guards, who saluted him, and walked straight towards his throne. With a heavy sigh he fell into the mighty chair and stared out into space. He imagined what had happened in his life from his first arrival so many years ago up to this point. He imagined what has happened to his home in Solamnia and thought of his family. Then in a blink of an eye, he thought of his mother. He wondered what she would think of him now. He wondered where she was and hoped she was alive so that he could find her one day. With so much wondering and imagining of the grand reunion he would have with his mother, he didn’t even realize his eyes drooping. And the next thing he knew, he was fast asleep.

Storm stands on the steps of the keep at the last battle of Mittelmarch. One last crack with the battering ram, the gate flew open with a thundering snap. As the ashes clear he sees Harrow stood on top of the dais, grinning mock pride and beckoning Storm to enter. Unsheathing his ancient family sword Brightblade, Storm took the step forward. He saluted Harrow with the honor and dignity that his mother taught him. Harrow laughed and motioned for the young warrior and with a mighty yell Storm charged him.

Sparks flew off of the blades as Harrow parried the first strike and side stepped and thrust at Storm’s leg. Easily deflected by Storm’s shield he feinted for a high slash. The two played at this game of attack and defense for what seemed like eternity for the young aspiring knight-to-be. All he could think of was trying to catch Harrow off his guard. Realizing that his enemy was still hurt from the previous battle, Storm shield bashed his enemy right in his chest. Trying his best to resist the force thrown at him, Harrow braces for the shield. There was a mighty crack in the room as his shoulder and entire arm broke. Screaming in pain, he kneeled to hold his arm and looked up at Storm in rage. Without a moments hesitation, Storm brought his sword in a mighty arc and sliced the head of Harrow right from his body, thus bringing an end to the reign of the tyrant.

Storm looked around and saw the men of Harrow still alive drop to their knees in surrender. There was no point in continuing once Harrow was gone. Hearing in audible cheers from his men an old knight with white hair and beard steps in. His armor shined but the evidence of many battles wore on its surface. On his back a great sword that seemed to teem with energy.

"Storm, you must find the gate and protect it. If it is found by the demons one will take it to Mourna and become the ultimate power and evil will dominate the land."

He scratches his chin. "These demons never truly die, they escape and find other bodies to take. Go to the dwarves and have them forge a weapon to send the demons back to hell."

"I must go..."

The Guardian turns and fades into mist.

Storm wakes with a cold sweat on his face. He looks around and sees that he's in his own bed. He looked down to see that he was still in his clothes from this morning. One of the guards at his door knocks and enters.

"Is everything alright Warlord?"

"Yes everything is fine," Storm said whipping the sweat away from his face, "Just a bad dream is all."

The guard salutes and closes the door. Storm got up from the bed and opened the curtains. The sun was just now setting on Mittelmarch with a fiery red color. shaking his head, Storm tried to make sense of what his dream meant and started to pace the room.

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Rune and Nichtmar had met at the front gate before dawn as was the condition laid down by Storm the previous evening. They both had packed light for the adventure, for hopefully it was going to be a very short one. Dawn was breaking of the walls, and the gates were rising for them.

“Wait!”

Both turned and saw a few men starting to run towards them. As they reached the two knights, the front man saluted.

“Levi, one of the Captains of the Mittelmarch Guard, the Warlord thought best to ensure some people with you on your journey in the case no one did volunteer. He wants to be sure the job gets done and told me to rely that he has the upmost faith in you.”

Rune smiles, “Well my squire at least had the right idea of sending people. I can’t say I blame people for not wanting to volunteer. Now let’s be off,” as he turned and started out the gate, with the rest of the company following close behind. The group started south along the main highway, since it was the fastest way to Mourna. It was a very uneventful trip with everything that has happened in the past year, even the bandits didn’t think it wise to try anything lest they bring the full wrath of Mittelmarch for their hard fought peace. The sun was setting and the land was getting darker with the trees surrounding them. The group stopped at an inn on at the crossroads to stay for the night on the edge of Fangorn forest. Called the Howling Goblin, for the local goblin tribe had a habit of howling at the moon with the wolves they used as mounts.

Rune walked in the door and looked around. The common room was fairly empty, except for a man whittling in the corner next to the fire place where a small was going. They were greeted by the innkeeper, who was a short man in a brown apron cleaning a mug.
“Welcome gentlemen to the Howling Goblin, what can I do for you today?”

Seeing the Nichtmar walk last through the door put the innkeep on edge, not for being an ogre, but for if his accommodations would be able to suit him.

“Four rooms and dinner for everyone,” Rune said as he put the coin purse on the counter, “And bag us the rest of your bread and salted meat.” Holding the purse in his hand for a moment, a quick nod and the innkeeper fled to the back to prepare the supplies.

The company moved towards the center of the room where a square table large enough to fit all of them and took a seat. Nichtmar pulled a map from its case and unfurled it out for the men to see. Pointing to the closest southern crossroad from Mittelmarch he said, “This is where we are gentlemen, we’re roughly halfway from our destination. From this point on we cut straight south-west through the forest until we reach the mountains. We have heard no bandit activity since the Harrow incident but I wouldn’t put anything past bandits when we reach the center of the forest. I would personally opt to the safer route by skirting the edge of the forest till the mountains but Storm needs this done now and we don’t have time for safety.”

Levi studied the map intently, thinking of what lay beyond the forest. “Bandits I know we can handle Sir Nichtmar just between the prowess of you and Sir Rune alone. The men and I’s biggest question is what lay beyond the forest in the mountains? We have no real idea what lurks in the mountains.”

“Mostly orcs, goblins, and trolls live in the mountains this far south. But remember the prize we are after is of demonic craft,” Nichtmar looked over to the man in the corner and hushed his tone, “so I honestly have no idea what to expect once we find it.”

Sir Rune smiled, “Which is why we are greatly appreciative that we didn’t have to go at this alone, so thank you again gentlemen. You have our respect.”

The innkeeper came up to the table with dinner and placed a plate infront of each of the men and with a slight bow let the men return to their eating

[Cathán Neamhnaofa]

Two figures dressed in dark clothing appear, after a flash of red light, just north of Mittelmarch in the Great Woods, one of them holding what looks like a bundle of rags. With the cold wind blowing they keep themselves bundled tightly in there cloaks.

Cathan looks up into the canopy of trees, "I know it's not much from down here, Viola, but it's where we can start our lives. It's warm and hidden up there. I'll have to build some more room, but it should do for now." Hidden way up in between two trees is Cathan's house.

Cathan and Viola teleport up into the warm room. Viola starts unraveling the bundle of rags to reveal a baby sleeping in her arms. Viola looks at Cathan "You said there was something wrong that you needed to fix in Mittelmarch. Why don't you go take care of that and I'll get us settled in here." Cathan gives her a smile and a kiss and disappears from the house.

Cathan travels to an entrance to a set of tunnels leading to Mittelmarch, which he used to use a lot. After the flash of light and his appearance, he looks around to make sure he didn't come across anyone. He moves brush from between a giant rock and an old tree. Cathan takes a step into the tunnel and covers the entrance up again. To the human eye it would be to dark to see, but Cathan could see quite well and could travel these tunnel ways with his eyes closed if he wanted to.

It doesn't take long for Cathan to arrive at the other entrance to the tunnel. This entrance lies inside the castle. He steps out from behind a large tapestry to an empty meeting hall. 'It feels just like yesterday that I was here with The Brotherhood of the Crimson Fang with Isen as King.' Cathan thought to himself. 'I wonder who's in charge now. It doesn't matter, so long as it is someone that remembers me and will listen.' Cathan starts walking through the different halls trying to find someone, anyone, to help show him the way. Down one of the side halls, he spots someone who seems of importants but doesn't recognize. Cathan walks up to the man who seems very much in his own world at the time "Excuse me, I need to speak with whoever is the ruler here immediately." The man snaps back into reality to notice a red eyed demon dressed in Saracen clothes talking to him. "And who might you be and what is so important for you to speak with the Warlord?" The man asks. "My name is Cathan and I have information only the Warlord can hear about. Can you help me or not?" The man smirked and said, " Of course I can help you I am the Warlord's Stewart. If you will follow me I can see if he is free at the moment."

Cathan follows the Stewart into a waiting room. The Stewart stops in the room and turns towards Cathan, "If you will wait here I will announce your presence." The Stewart turns and walks through another door leaving Cathan passing in the room. 'I hope it's someone I know. They need to know what's going on with the Azoth Gate.' Cathan ponders as he waits for the Stewart or Warlord to return.

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Storm was seated at his desk in his room as he usually was at this time of night. Just because he had sent his Commander of the Guard Rune and his Grand Advisor Nichtmar off on this mission didn’t mean that he could not relax from his duties. There were petitions for financial aid from widows and mothers for the deaths of fathers and sons, trade agreements from neighboring cities for supplies to rebuild the fallen buildings and to improve relations as well, and reports of Jovian cells being discovered and taken care of accordingly, and audiences requested for improvements to the city and its surrounding farms.

He sighed and rang the bell for Oliver in the next room.

“Yes milord?” Oliver said as he entered the room.

“I will take dinner in here tonight. No need to set the table in the dining room when I have no guests to entertain. Plus I need to get through all these reports before tomorrow before the audiences with the people. Tell the cook to surprise me with dinner.” Storm turned and walked towards the balcony.

“Right away milord, it will be here in a jiffy”

Oliver left the room and walked down towards the kitchen. It was really quiet in the castle tonight.

‘Well with the way things are right now, everyone wants to just be at home with their families.’

"Excuse me, I need to speak with whoever is the ruler here immediately."

Oliver snaps back and pulls a dagger from his belt, only to realize that it was only one man standing in front of him. The thing that struck Oliver the most was that he was dressed in Saracen clothes and had eyes the color of rubies. He spoke but didn’t lower his dagger.

“What do you require of the Warlord this time of night?”

“"My name is Cathan and I have information only the Warlord can hear about. Can you help me or not?"

Oliver looks at him suspiciously; it was odd that this man had managed to sneak in to the castle without the guards noticing. But for some reason oliver trusted him with at portion at least.

“Very well right this way,” and oliver led him back towards the top of the castle. Once they had reached the top of the stairs Oliver walked ahead and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” said the voice of the Warlord who turned to face the door, “ah Oliver is there something wrong?”

“You have a visitor my lord, he says it’s urgent and will only speak with you.”

“What is so important that it can’t wait till morning?”

“He won’t say, only he will speak with you on the matter.”
Storm sighed and rubber between his eyes, “Did he at least give you a name?”

“His name is Cathan.”

The second he said the name, Storm snapped his head up and walked towards the door. There was no way it could be him, he had disappeared years ago. He threw the door the rest of the way open and there stood the incubus, though he was dressed in foreign clothing.

“Cathan, is that really you?”

[Cathán Neamhnaofa]

Seeing Storm open the door the rest of the way "Cathan, is that really you?" Cathan had a quick look of surprise to see that Storm is now Warlord of Mittelmarch. The surprised look didn't last long.

Cathan gave a big grin, "Yes Storm it is really me. There is much we will definitely need to catch up on," as Cathan gestures towards Storm in is Warlord clothing, "But for now there are other things that need to be discussed. If you have a place where we can talk privately where there are no extra pair of ears around," as he stares at the Stewart, "I can tell you of what I know."

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Storm walked forward and grabbed the incubus in a bear hug. Stepping back to take a look at him he could barely believe that he was actually here. It had been years since he had seen him and yet besides the clothing it looked like he hadn't aged a day.

"Where have you been my friend? You have missed so much since you left, and without a word. I didn't know what to think had happened to you. Please come," Storm led Cathan into his room and pulled up one of his comfortable chairs next to the fire pit, "Oliver while you're fetching my dinner, tell the cook for two."

Oliver left without a word, it was obvious that the Warlord was in no danger. He closed the door and left the two to catch up.

Storm sat down in the other chair he brought over.

"It is really good to see you again Cathan, where have you been hiding all these years?"

[Cathán Neamhnaofa]

Cathan enjoyed seeing a friend and getting the warm welcome he was hoping for. He followed Storm into the room and sat in the chair that had been pulled up for him.

"It is good to see you too old friend." Cathan said with a smile, "After my time having the Azoth Gate, I had to get away for a while. I felt as if I was being pulled down the wrong path. I traveled to a place called Galladorn where I became their King for a while and helped them rebuild their city. Unfortunately my disguise had been revealed so I left. The good news though is that it was good timing because I had just started getting feelings about the Azoth Gate. Something is wrong, I'm not sure what, but it deals with the Gate and it's not good." Cathan looked very intently at Storm, " Please tell me you know where it is and that it is in safe hands."

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Storm listened to Cathan with upmost fascination with his travel. When it came to the topic of the Gate Storm took a sip from his glass of wine on the side table.

“I know where the Gate is located and I have sent out Sir Nichtmar and Sir Rune and Captain Levi in addition to his squad to acquire it. That was a few days ago and my scouts have lost sight of them. I received its location from one of Anvil’s men while he was patrolling the far south. Apparently it had made its way to Mourna, how it got there is beyond me but I dispatched them the next morning. I’m sad that I couldn’t get a bigger force sent but with the recent changes we had, it was hard to convince the people to that this was an important decision with just getting out of a civil war with her people. What’s this about Cathan?”

At that moment Oliver walked in with dinner, he set it down on the main table and left without a word. Storm sat there wanting to hear what Cathan had to say.

[Cathán Neamhnaofa]

"Civil War? I really have been gone for a long time." Cathan said, "I never thought I would see Mittelmarch come into a civil war."

After dinner was delivered by Oliver, Cathan pushed his food around on the plate waiting for Oliver to leave the room. Once he left Cathan pushed his plate away and sat on the edge of his chair, "I don't know what exactly is happening or going to happen with the Gate. When I had the Azoth Gate, it created a bond with me somehow. I'm not really sure how it works, but I get this feeling when the gate gets used or is going to be used." Cathan looks around the room to make sure there isn't anyone listening in, then looks back at Storm. "I'm sorry if I seem nervous, but when it comes to the Azoth Gate, it's hard to tell who you can trust. The only thing I can think of for the use of the Gate is to create a portal from another world into this one. That is how I was able to get around so quickly. In the wrong hands it can cause something worse than a Civil War or even the Jovians. We must find the gate so that it is in safe hands."

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Storm leaned forward and folded his hands.

“What do you need of me Cathan? You and I both know what the Gate can do but you know more of its latent powers. Everything I have learned is from a compliation from Nichtmar, Baethor, and books that Helvaryn had about it. You have through experience with it. But I’ve already have sent for the Gate to be kept in our hands for safe keeping. I keep a vigil on the southern wall to alert me as soon as they are within a few miles out so as to meet them and make sure that they aren’t ambushed.”

He stood up and leaned against the mantel of the fire place where his family sword the Brightblade, from which his family drew their surname, and he looked up to it hoping for some sort of sign from his ancestors.

[Cathán Neamhnaofa]

"I need to know what path they took. The Gate can not fall into the wrong hands. I can find them and have them back here as soon as they are found, with the use of the Azoth Gate. You need not worry about keeping a watch out for them. I will bring them directly to this room if you so wish." Cathan stands and waits for Storm's reply.

[Dark Father]

The figure sat upon his throne of granite, the room lit dimly from the glow of the stone walls around him. He tapped his claws on the arm rest in quiet contemplation, how long had he been trapped down here? How long had he had been planning for the day that his ace in the hole would finally bear him the results he desired. He felt that the time was soon upon him, it was a matter of getting the right foolish mortal to open the way.

A low skittering ran along the floor and stopped infront of the throne.

"My lord, I come bearing news about the Gate."

"It is near the capacity, it is close to the time of my triumph."

The lesser demon cringed at the sheer cruelty in the voice, "Yes my lord but there is other news that you should be aware of."

The figure raised an eyebrow, "Go on," it merely said.

"There are mortals who are moving against you my lord, they're trying to acquire the gate so that your followers can not activate it and thwart your glorious return."

The figure raised his claw and slashed it through the air, ripping the fabric of space slightly and before him was an image of a young man speaking to a group of soldiers. He had the air of nobility and by the way he was speaking he is obviously is the leader of this group of men.

'We need to retrieve the Gate at all costs.' said the man

The figure stood from his throne, standing three times the size of the lesser demon.

"Kill this one and beat them to the Gate."

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Storm turned to Cathan and smiled, “I’ll have my scouts show you where the road they took. It shouldn’t be too hard to track them from there. But please sit down and let us at least enjoy dinner in the honor of your return.”

Storm seated Cathan and then took a seat himself.

“So time to get you caught up since your disappearance my friend. Ever since the death of the demon sorcerer Telamon, there had been peace amongst the populace of Mittelmarch. But until a little over a year ago there was a string of murders done to non-humans in the city and a man named Harrow started a riot and wanted all the non-humans out of the city. To keep the peace, Nichtmar, Rune, Baethor and his clan left Mittelmarch. I was working at Cedric’s Inn with my uncle Zigler and laid low because not everyone knows that I am quarter Leprechaun but I didn’t want to take any chances. They didn’t have issues with Zigler because he owns the only bar in town now since the Silver Moon burnt down during the Jovian takeover. But Harrow took over as ruler of Mittelmarch and we all said enough was enough when he became a tyrant and oppressed us. So through the help from the inside and the outside we managed to get Harrow to lock himself up in the main keep after he was badly wounded in the first assault. After we had regained our strength, I personally led the final charge and killed Harrow myself. When the red had cleared from my eyes I heard those around chanting my name because they had seen what I did to him. At first I didn’t believe that I was a good choice because why not Rune or Nichtmar because they had been more vital than me during the entire fight. But I guess being a leader is not a decision as much as it is thrust upon you, so I accepted. But I didn’t want to be named king, I may be a noble but I am no king. They settled for Warlord because it seemed more fitting since we are a martial nation. Since then under my rule we have repaired the walls and the surrounding buildings and I have been in the process of rebuilding our relationships with the surrounding realms.”

Storm cut into his dinner and took a bite. With a hearty laugh he said, “If it were under any other circumstances I wouldn’t believe it myself in all honesty. But now here we are going into year two of my rule with no complaints and unhappiness.”

[Cathán Neamhnaofa]

Cathan nods when Storm said that he would have scouts show the path.

He sits after Storm was seated.

"I have no words to describe how sorry I am that I was not here to stand against Harrow. I was surprised myself when I saw that you were the new leader of Mittelmarch. You are right that being a leader is not a decision. I've found in my travels that the best leaders were not the ones who thought they would make good leaders, but those who were looked upon by everyone else and didn't want the title or the responsibilities. I too had the responsibilities pushed on me when I was in Galladorn. It's not something you really want to have but you know you need to do it. You have done a great job by what I've seen so far, but that's not saying to much seeing as I've only seen the inside of this place." Cathan smiles at Storm.

As Storm starts eating his meal, Cathan pulls out a satchel and folds some of the food in clean clothes then packs them away. He looks up at Storm. "I've brought back with me a wife and child. This is for them." Cathan then starts eating the food he left on the plate for himself.

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Storm coughed as he choked on his dinner. He beat his chest and finally managed to get the food down with the help of his wine.

“I apologize for that my friend; you are the just the last one I could have seen getting married. Where are they at? I will have rooms set up for you here until you get fully settled, especially with it being cold out, I would hate for your family to go through that. Are there any more surprises you have in store for me?”
He let out another hearty laugh and smiled.

“I am really happy for you Cathan, you aren’t the person I first met long ago. But then again I doubt I’m the same lowly son of knightly lineage eager to prove himself but could barely fit in his grandfather’s armor,” he said as he looked over to the armor stand in the corner.

He looked back to Cathan and raised his glass.

“Welcome home my friend.”

[Dark Father]

It was unusually dark on this night, it was a new moon and it was particularly windy so it blew out a few of the torches lit as street lamps. Six figures materialized out of the darkness in an alley with hoods pulled and scarves pulled around their features. Dressed in dark leather armor and armed simple daggers, they stood in the dark, to avoid the passing guards.

“Where’s Magroth? He was supposed to be here by now. If he doesn’t show soon then I say we start without-“a dark shadow enveloped him and silence was all that was left.

“May your soul supplement the Dark Father’s hunger,” said a dark voice cold as the grave itself, “and let that be a lesson to all of you for wanting to disobey my orders from Him.”
Sheathing his dagger, he stood up and turned the five that remained.

“Our orders are simple; there is a man that has ordered the recovery of the Gate from my Dark Father. If we are to enable his glorious return in triumph, we must kill this man and take the Gate back once the return party arrives. The Dark Father has revealed to me the location of the man we must kill.”

Magroth pointed to the highest point in the castle and walked off in the shadows to pursue the target of his master, with the rest slowly following behind. Dodging and ducking through every alley on the streets, they managed to get past the patrols without the rest of the world knowing. Magroth walked into the courtyard and looked up at the keep before him.

“How are we supposed to get so high?” one of the assassins asked.

Magroth pulled out a phial, pulled down his scarf, and took a sip. He jerked and twitched for a second but then straightened out. He walked up to the wall and touched it. With a jump and slamming his hands against the wall and stuck there.

“My father has given us the gift of the Spider, drink and receive His blessing,” Magroth turned and continued up the wall. Climbing the walls took little to no time with being able to scale the wall. He cleared the railing with the no trouble with his follower’s right behind. Drawing his swords he walked right towards the door and lightly jiggled the door handle.

[Cathán Neamhnaofa]

"I didn't really expect it myself," Cathan laughed. "They are currently at my old living place. It still looks just the way I left it. There is some more building I need to do. I appreciate your offer and will let her know that."

As Storm raised his glass to toast, Cathan got a whiff of other people in the room, but didn't see anyone. He stands, spinning to face the balcony, Cathan drew his curved sword from under his cloak. "We're not the only ones here anymore," Cathan says to Storm, as he prepares to face the intruders.

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Storm was startled when Cathan drew his sword but was short lived when the door to the balcony was crashed in by a heavy boot. Shadows flooded into the room with silver gleams that he knew were blades. Storm barely had enough time to dodge the first attack as a dagger stabbed into the table.

Putting his hands together Storm brought them down onto the assassins head with enough force that the head hit the table with a loud thunk and the body went limp. Pulling the dagger from the table he managed to parry the next strike easier than the first. Looking over he saw Cathan had just impaled one on his curved sword. Oliver entered the room sword drawn as soon as he heard the door kicked open. One of the assassins took the opportunity and threw his dagger at the unsuspecting steward, which landed right in his midsection.

"Oliver!!" Storm cried as he thrust the dagger into the assassin's throat. Over come with such a rage he head butted the next assassin that came upon him and he crumpled under such force. reaching Oliver, Storm knelled down next to him. To inspect the wound.

"It's... not that bad Storm," Oliver said with blood coming from his mouth.

"Quiet, you know talking is worse for you right now," Storm said sternly trying to apply pressure to the wound.

He looked over quickly to see Cathan had just finished off the other two assassin's before he was over come with shadow and knocked to the floor.

[Dark Father]

Magroth stood up and saw the full features of the man he had just fallen.

'An incubus, in the company of the enemy leader. How curious...'

"How ironic that a friend of my enemy is one of my Father's children. It matters not though, my Father is going to destroy this world and remold it in his image no matter the cost," he said as he stood and turned towards Storm, "even if it means sacrificing one of his own sons."

He saw the man stand and took a defensive stance with the dagger he had in his hand. Magroth laughed at the gesture and sheathed his sword.

"Silly little man, your friend is going to die one way or another. There is no point in defending him," Magroth noticed Storm look quickly in the corner at something. Curious as to what he was looking at he turned and saw a sword standing in the corner. Ornately made with the pommel and cross guard in the shape of a dragon, it was a very nice looking sword. Walking across the room with his eyes watching Storm, he picked up the scabbard and and examined the sword more.

"It 's a very beautiful sword," Magroth said as he pulled it from the sheath, "were you hoping to make a dash for this and slay me with it?"

Dropping the sheath to the floor he turned towards Storm, still standing defensively over the fallen steward.

"It is a gift from a family friend, it's been in our family for over two thousand years." Storm said trying to keep his cool.

Magroth noticed the brief spasm of rage across Storm's face. So it was a family heirloom, it was well taken care of to last this long.

"Funny now that this is the sword with which you are going to be killed. I hope your ancestors forgive you for this dishonor!" and with that he lunged at Storm. Unsuspecting of the lunge Storm tried to parry but was too slow to his adversary's speed. The point slipped past the guard and was heading straight for his heart.

There was a sudden flash of light and a small crack like thunder in the room. Magroth was tossed back against the wall with sudden force that knocked the air out of his lungs. When the light had cleared, he saw the hilt in his hands but with no blade. In front of Storm lay hundreds of shards. Storm looked just as surprised as he was. Taking in this advantage he dropped the handle to the floor and fled out the balcony and disappeared into the night.

[Sir Storm Brightblade]

Storm looked at the floor and noticed all the small shards that were once his family's sword, broken now because it had been used in an evil intent. He fell to his knees, still stunned beyond belief at what had happened. Guards had rushed into the room after hearing the sound and noticed Oliver bleeding out. They took over and took him out of the room and rushed him to the castle healer. A few guards helped Cathan to his feet, with which Cathan brushed himself off.

Storm picked up a few shards in his hands, disbelieving this was real. The blade that had lasted for more than two thousand years, and it had broken with him.

"No..." he said quietly to himself, "no, this cannot be happening!"

He slammed his fists to the floor, some of the shards embedding in his fists. He hardly noticed the pain, the pain of his honor was greater than anything he had felt before. To happen to him again in such a short time. First was Tatsamura, now this was happening. He kept that position for some time, everyone seeing him in this state left the room to his thoughts.

Suddenly in front of Storm stood The Guardian he had a dream of a few days before.

"Remember what I said, you have need for a weapon to better fight these demons. Have the dwarves re forge the blade into the weapon that is required to save this land."

"You knew this would happen, didn't you?" Storm said with a slight disgust of his sudden arrival.

The Guardian nodded solemnly, "Yes I did young Warlord, but I could not bear to tell you this tragedy for you need it to strengthen your resolve to eliminate this threat."

And with that The Guardian disappeared..