The Northen Expedition

[firespirit44 1323]

Jack sits in his alcove of the ship Freema Grenedad 'borrowed' him. Looking out in the deep blue darkness of the night, the old man lets out a weary sigh, moving back towards the warm flickering candlelight. Upon the desk lays numerous maps, diagrams, a compass, and a small journal lays out in front of him, details of the expedition a year ago.

 

 - 2nd of Sun's Smile, 1451

    

         I went to a tavern in the Witch Woods, hearing some reports that someone out there knows something I dont about the North. A soldier, who lost his mind while battling the ashen soldiers of the scourge. Intrigued, I seeked out the tavern,and approached a brown haired man with a haunted look about him. His eyes were sunken, his hands trembling as he held his cup. It seems like the lad has a few screw loose about him. I bought him a glass of whiskey, and that was all it took to coax him into talking by the fire. He was raving about he felt doom coming upon us, and that he was being chased by a bunch of boarmen. Madness if I ever heard any.

 

        It seems like this trip was a absolute waste of time. I left the tavern without further ado. The pork chop they served tasted like charcoal. I dont even get a decent mean for all my troubles.

 

 

 - 3rd of Sun's Smile, 1451

 

       My informant told me that Jaren is a real Lance Soldier, and that he would ravel the mystery about the north, and this supposed obscure group of pigmen called the Bohra. I resigned myself to another worthless trip to the desolated inn in the middle of nowhere. I even heard liches are abound, what am I doing, chasing off some fantasy that this deranged man known as Jaren will be the key to the puzzle that plagued Anthos for 80 years. But still, I find my feet plodding towards that direction. 

 

       I stop along the way to the Conclave, perhaps I can find Miss Elorna. I wonder if she ever managed to cleanse that statue of High Prince Native. Before even stepping in the Inn, sounds of shouting and inhuman grunts could be heard from the gates. A old man came up to the guests, screaming and crying about a bunch of pigmen attacking the front gates. Cold dread filled my bones, as I hastened to the top of a tree, seeing as the pigmen were dispatched by a variety of Conclave citizens. The giant certainly did a number, and was someone trying to kill these brutes with a....kitchen knife?

 

      Seems like it wasn't a big raid. The pigmen only had clubs of bones, and poorly stitched leather armour. After which, it looks like they were interrogated. I see Jaren standing proudly amongst the crowd gathered at the bridge, stating how we must unite and fight the northern menace. A day ago, this person was scared of his own shadow, and now he's urging men to fight...? What is with the change here?

 

- 4th of Sun's Smile, 1451

 

      I am approached by Jaren in my shop, asking me if I had winter gear for his 'men'. Scardy-cat to captain of the guards? This is interesting development. The furnace was still hot from treating the iron hook, I concentrated on the anvil before the words that he spoke. Apparently he's leading a group of men up North, to find the 'Chieftain' of the 'Bohra', who wanted him dead. Northern pig barbarians crossing the Wall for him? The story grows more tangled than the biscuit crumbles in my beard. He asks if there is transport to take us to the North. Maybe the Ebon Wave would work with its ice-breakers....

 

     I reluctantly agree to supply him with arms, arrowheads, a dozen swords, and some cloaks, alongside the Ebon Wave as long I get half of the loot from this expedition. Who knows, this Chieftain might be hoarding gold. We are scheduled to meet by Old Malinor's Dock, and my crew of chinks would man the ropes. Xan protect me from this folly. I feel death upon me.

 

 

 

 

      

 

[Samoblivion 532]

((So glad Bohra characters are being used in this. Thanks for doing this, my old ET brethren ^.^ ))

[firespirit44 1323]

- 5th of Sun's Smile, 1451

 

        I am to rendezvous with Jaren at quarter past noon, and wait for 5 hours as his party of men assembled. The man seemed to be in a rush, barely offering me a word of greeting as he dashes off, probably to find his other men. We stay docked, as people slowly trickle in. First was a Conclave guard, then a Varodyr (haven't seen one in some time), then a adventurer, a halfling, a Silverblade, a orc.....I lost count of who was onboard, but my crew mate said we had 25 'adventurers', although the more I look, this motley collection seems more like clueless civilians who want a taste of the blade. I mean, I have a Elder Halfling request for a sword? 

 

         We cast away the roped and pulled the anchors at dusk. Jaren gave a few words, but I reckon no one was listening. This wont go well I thought, as we sailed away from Malinor's docks, setting sail towards the north.

 

 

 

- 6th of Sun's Smile, 1451

 

        We sailed past the druid isles, away from the giant sea turtle with a forest on its back. Past a jungle island with some weird connecting roots, heading east in until we saw the icy mountain range. The icebreaker did its job beautifully, Freema would have been proud to see it in action. Cut through the ice like a saw, arriving before some sort of giant chasm. Jaren took hold of the expedition and all its 'adventurers', promising me to meet him up by the side of the mountain in case something went wrong.

 

 

        Why the side of the mountain? I dont quite get it. Its as if he's seen the place before or something. But true to his words, the crew saw a opening after several miles of ice. It seems like its the exit of some long tunnel, but we cant quite see the inside of it. We hefted our swords out, in case something tried to board us while we docked on the ice. 

 

        It was turning dark, and the shouts of men dying and fighting were heard across the icy ranges. Either they're fighting in a massive cave, or something is really, really loud happening in that chasm. Soon I hear the mountain rumble with anger, ice chunks falling far from us. But this could be a sign of a avalanche. If the 'adventurers' and Jaren didn't make it back in 2 hours, I'll cast away. No need to risk one's crew and life for some loot that might not even exist.

 

- 7th of Sun's Smile, 1451

 

      I finally see them. Someone came running up the ice, and I jumped down to greet them. We rounded up all the fleeing survivors, as I notice the cavern behind them quickly collapsing amidst a pile of rubble. I broke open some kegs, and offered all of them some cider to calm their nerves. After the sun came up on the horizon, I counted.

 

      Out of 25, only 7 adventurers survived. I felt the wind knocked out of my lungs. One-third of the original expedition. The price rests heavy upon my conscience. While they were getting their wits back, some coffins and tombs were floating around. I got the crew to move up a few coffins, and peered inside. Some ceremonial swords, rusted away by age and salt water. Emblems, chain mail, these are burial gifts. The Bohra buried their dead with all the valuables in their lives. Jaren finally came up, and explained to us how he was a member of some Holy Order.....think it was called the Golden Lance? I wasn't paying attention. 

 

       To my dismay, there was absolutely nothing worth keeping. I handed whatever I had to the surviving party, let them see what they have thrown lives away for. I was not paying attention as we sailed back. Seems like Jaren killed some Chieftain called Radagask, but why he was hunted isn't yet clear to him. 18 lives lost......I'll have to put that many candles on wooden boats tonight.

[Galendar 631]

Amealeo sits by his fire closely as he hears the echoes of Bohra squeals through the valleys.

"Mmmm... saving them from a worse fate..."

[ski_king3 0]

((**** YA GL REPPIN' WOOOOOO!!))

[Swgrclan 2682]

He had kept his treasures close, kept them safe and hidden after the trip to the forsaken lair in the North. The Knave of Graves... he had trekked far across it's frosty surface far and wide in another skin, but that place.. when they approached that place, he knew trouble dwelt within. And from ascending the icy precipices to slaying the savage Bohra scum in their own home, he knew he would pull through the mission alongside it's leader and his dearest Lilith, whom of which he kept an eye on at all times -- but he did not expect to be one of the few survivors left.

He still remembered the moment, being one of the handful that dared approach Radagask with steel in-hand. While he did not make the killing blow, he made several that led up to it's eventual demise -- finding pride in that alone. But he savored more of a challenge; the Harbinger Absolution was in his sights. He sought to crush the pest; only for the challenge to be stolen by the Lance Knight who lost his thoughts up to the point of when his faithful plate was regathered.

The Knave and his female companion, alongside another survivor, had made it out of the collapsing cavern shortly after it's falling stones became to crush his other comrades; dooming them to a quick death, though one nearest to freedom. In the end, when he was sheltered upon the confines of his belt with his Dark-Elven paramour, he did not get many treasures of worth -- a blade of sacrifice and chainmail fit for a larger stature than himself. However... he did manage to draw a special blade from a grave. Another, as if a twin-sword, had been found but was lost to the collapsing cavern like those who perished to it were. "The Breeze of Seven Hearts" it was called, engraved near it's hilt. The Knave assumed it special - mayhaps of use in the future, of use against those bastardly Harbingers and their pigman slaves.

But for now, he would wait -- wait for the Knight Jaren and his compatriot Jack to call once more, possibly for a second delve into the Northern wastes.

[Kanrath 190]

*Not far from the great passages of the north sits a single man in a bundle of well cared for white furs and grey leather. Little can be seen of him, though tuffs what was once black hair turned grey peek out from the well worn dire wolf fur hood. In one hand a telescope of dulled and charred brass, in the other a book worn and ragged. As the men who went to hunt the Bora return from the north the telescope shifts to where would be the mans eyes beneath the hood, and slowly it makes to examine each man returning. As he examins each one a note is made in the journal on the condition of each man. After the last one leaves the telescope and journal are carefully put away and the man slowly stands. As he does he removes the hood, fully revealing the now grizzled face of Tenshar, well into his mid 70s though clearly able to move with some speed as of yet as he descends from his perch. As he heads into off toward his home he looks back at the north again, and for a moment stops*

 

"Perhaps I should make my knowledge available once again if people so wish to venture into that hell. The Bohra are the least of ones worries..."