The crew of the Rhyfelwyr's Journal|
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Below are the 5 most recent journal entries recorded in
The crew of the Rhyfelwyr's LiveJournal:
|Tuesday, August 28th, 2007|
Kal Tae Ki Ohn
Just a bit of backstory for Kal.
Kal is a very special half elf. Very special.
Kal grew up on an island way south, past the equator, although she doesn't know what one is. Life down there is slightly different to life up here, which amuses, confuses and, occasionally, upsets her. The island is goverened by a set of priest monks, worshippers of a character known as Auster, an anally retentive megalomaniac who tried to pass himself off as an ancestor. Him and his followers were kicked off their original island, and settled down to follow their own set of beliefs on a much smaller one.
A number of these beliefs are rather strange - the beliefs about looking up and down as evil, for instance. Some are more understandable, such as the law forcing all men to take a second, usually slave, wife from outside the original gene pool. Some are just plain wrong, the belief that magic and magical healing are, for anyone who is not an avatar/incantor of Auster, the sign of the great devil.
The last one is what got Kal into trouble. Her mother Tae, also rather simple, was a slave elf with plenty of magical and healing training, but a low batch of power, and a general ignorance as to what she could use it for. As Kal was her only child with the 'pointy' ears, she taught Kal what she knew. And Kal just happened to have an innate amount of power. She wasn't so simple as to not tell Kal to hide it, however.
Tae died when Kal was 14, leaving her as the only daughter in the house of Ohn, her father and his "head" wife Ki, a bardic dancer. Everything was ok, until she turned 19. Then her brother Dar fell off his horse by getting (sideways) distracted by a young wenchmaiden, and took a nasty (-1) blow to the head. In her concern, Kal healed him. And got caught by the priests of Auster.
The punishment for using magic on the island is death. By burning. At the stake. The punishment for just being caught helping someone who's suffered the 'judgement' for breaking Auster's rules is imprisonment followed by slavery. Ki and Ohn did their best, and by using their not instubstantial pull, and all the money in the family bank, bought off, paid, and bribed their way out of the first penalty. They just couldn't get rid of the latter.
Kal was sold off to a slave ship, to be transported North and sold, most likely as a brothel worker or drudge. However, part way there they came across an Erin trader ship, containing sleeping dwarfs and a stone drunk lookouts, and decided to capitalise on their findings. Bad move on their part.
Whether or not it was actually Kal who got out of the bonds first and then freed the rest of the crew is still debateable. What's even more dubious is the nature of Kal's journey alone, on a ship full of slavers.... What we do know is that the dwarfs escaped, mutineed, and killed off every last slaver on there.
They sailed around for a bit, mainly around the coast of Erin, and let Kal live with them for a while. Rumour states that she spent most of her time in the captain's quaters, but it's hard to figure out, all she'd say is that he 'taught her special things', then smile.
They finally kicked her off on the coast somewhere, after picking up the Captian's wife (who wasn't too pleased with the ship's new 'aquisition', and had heard rumours). Kal wandered around for a while, making a little money here and there by dancing or healing, occasionally being supported by a 'nice man'. However, she got lonely for the sea, and always wanted to join another ship...
What the other, non-elf half of Kal is, well, not even I know. All she knows is that they were smaller, without pointy ears, and most had 'not big' beards.
|Thursday, August 23rd, 2007|
|Wednesday, August 22nd, 2007|
Note: Playing Mad Zack wasn't quite getting my goat so I've decided to play something slightly more relaxing and less insane, that being Dethran. For background purposes, Zack is still on board the ship and does everything I said he does. He's just not around is all.
House Duskwalker of the Sylvan Elves is one of the many families that make up their rich and noble culture. Painters, sculptors and artistes have come from this noble lineage and the children of Alruen and Indomiel were expected to be no exception. This would prove to be true with their first child, Calentha, a child prodigy who seemed to shine with promise. The second child would prove to be more of a disappointment.
Dethran was brought up amongst the social elite of Sylvan kind. Having excelled at little else but duelling and courtship (doing far too well at the latter for his family to admit), he would be groomed for marriage to another family, about the only thing he would be good for. Devilishly handsome and gifted with a set of morals that can only be described as 'lax' the refined lifestyles of his family began to grate on his nerves from a young age. Where he preferred to linger in the streets with a bottle of spirits and loose company, his family would force him to study and attend exercises in drudgery that they called 'soirees'. After his ninetieth year, he decided that enough was enough.
Signing up for the Imperial forces occupying the Southern tip of Erin, he soon proved himself a competant and useful soldier, if a little undisciplined. His chain smoking and predeliction for attractive members of either sex landed him in trouble more than once. Eventually forced from the military following an unfortunate incident involving the sargeant's wife and two daughters, Dethran found himself at a loose end. The stipend his family provided him with having long since evaporated and no sign of gainful future employment, he decided to spend some time 'finding himself'. A copious amount of whores, narcotics and alcohol later - something found him instead.
He spent a few months at a small port town of no consequence, living off whatever work he could find and favours from the local colour. After a particularly vigorous bar brawl, Dethran ran into Captain Asherah. Quite literally. Persued by the port guards, the Sylvan cannoned into the sea elf and what could only be described as strenuous negotiations broke out. After a few moments of a three-way fight, the two exhanged portfolios and it became a two-sided fight. Offering the marine a place on her ship in return for various tasks of a dubious and violent nature, he agreed happily. Now he spends him time leching and fighting, enjoying life on the high seas and earning a wage for acts of senseless brutality.
|Tuesday, August 14th, 2007|
Captain Asherah Delmar
There are small communities of islands which may fall under the geographic boundaries of what defines Erin and yet are beyond the reach of any unified body of government. One community in particular, one of the furthest outlying groups of islands named Lancaeron, is known to be home of some of the greatest mariners, fishermen, and shipbuilders of Erdreja - at least, to those who even know of its existence. For the numbers are small, and the people tend to remain near local waters, where food is plentiful and the multitudes of isles provide sufficient mysteries and resources to keep all but the most adventurous or greedy happy for a lifetime.
Controversy is high as to which of the two categories the great Captain Llyr Delmar fell into, for he and his ship, Rhyfelwyr
, travelled far beyond Lancaeron waters, and even beyond the waters of Erin and Cymrja. Gone for many years at a time, when they returned it would always be not only with great treasures to bring the islands wealth and magical trinkets which could strengthen the land, but tales of adventure and excitement enough to inspire many to join his crew, or set out on their own expeditions. Llyr himself was always a favourite of the people, particularly the ladies, but it was a matter of some contention that he never took a wife.
This continued for over a decade, until he returned to Lancaeron after one journey with one memento of his travels that none would have expected: a baby girl, clearly not all human, but certainly by her looks and Captain Delmar's fierce protectiveness, his daughter. He never spoke of the mother when asked, and the journeys of Rhyfelwyr
became increasingly close to home, runs for resources and food rather than grand adventures. The girl was left in the care of Llyr's family while he was away, taught to fish and handle a small boat by his brothers. At first, they deemed her as much of a natural with the sea as her father, but within a few years that seemed to be something of an understatement as the girl's obviously elvish heritage began to shine through, and the phrase 'like a fish to water' promised to be a slightly eerie comparison.
Asherah Delmar was twelve when she first joined her father on a voyage, only two months' run for wood to rebuild the town hall after a storm, and it was clear that Llyr Delmar expected the same of her as any other youth on the ship. Indeed, she took to it naturally, and when Llyr announced his intention to depart for another massive expedition of adventurour proportions, there was no doubt that his daughter would crew Rhyfelwyr
on the voyage.
After many journeys ten years later, Asherah was first mate on the ship laden with as many wealths and tales of adventure as ever before, reinspiring the locals as much as Llyr had in his youth. Yet, to all who knew him, it was clear that Captain Delmar was not the same man. It had been said that there was a great sense of loss about him when he had returned to Lancaeron with his daughter, though this pain had been hidden from all but the most astute by his obvious devotion to her. As she grew older, coming into her own as a mariner, this sadness appeared to have opened up within Llyr again. Old veterans who had crewed the journey from which Llyr had returned with Asherah never spoke of exactly what had happened, save references made to a strange year spent in the Lantian isles.
Not long after, Llyr, Asherah, and Rhyfelwyr
left on a journey to Aegyptus, hired by a collector who had heard of their fame to lay claim to some artefacts in a coastal tomb. When on the return journey, docked at a Lantian port for rest and supplies, Llyr gathered his crew one evening and announced to them that he was leaving the ship. He handed command of Rhyfelwyr
to his astonished daughter and promptly disappeared into the night. By the time the crew pursuing him for at least an explanation, managed to catch up with his trail, he had apparently chartered a ship and left, destination unknown.
Asherah commanded Rhyfelwyr
to pursue, but to no avail, and when they began investigating the vessel Llyr had hired, it seemed that it had never been heard from since departing with him on board.
The next five years of Rhyfelwyr
's journeys are less precisely known, for her associations with the islands of Lancaeron diminished greatly. Asherah was first driven by a burning urge to discover the fate of her father, releasing all of the crew from her service as the search would be, she promised, of indeterminate length. All but the most loyal left, and so new crew from all walks of life and corners of the world were hired, so long as they would serve their Captain. At first, it was not a title Asherah adopted willingly, and it only settled upon her shoulders by dint of her position and the rest of the crew effectively forcing it upon her.
But such a search still required funding, and Rhyfelwyr
's old habits, though generally fruitful, tended to take too long for an income. The ship therefore began to hire itself out for whomsoever could make use of a well-built vessel and a well-disciplined and increasingly experienced crew. Sometimes, it was the protection of a convoy, or the more traditional journeys of exploration. But when the highest bidder gives the orders, more dubious journeys may take place, and a privateer by one nation is a pirate by any other.
It is not known at exactly what point the quest for Llyr Delmar was abandoned. Perhaps Asherah Delmar decided he was gone for good. Perhaps she decided that it was more fruitful to focus her efforts on working for the highest bidder. Perhaps the quest was not abandoned, but continued in an untraditional manner. But it was clear that there were no more whisperings in every port Rhyfelwyr
docked at about the fate of Captain Llyr Delmar.Rhyfelwyr
's fame, however, grew, and somewhat into notoriety. Whatever the task was - the elimination of a threat, the hunting of an individual, the retrieval of an item, the transport of cargo - she and her crew would get it done, if the price was right. They became truly at the mercy of the sea and their employers, never making their home in one fixed place. Even the isles of Lancaeron, the homes of the ship, her Captain, and many of her most experienced crewmembers, were only visited if necessary for business.
One hire, however, has finally given Captain Delmar more than it seems she can handle. An old, reliable employer has given them half-complete charts to find a great hidden library of knowledge in an ancient city of Maurabia. Finding it seemed, on the surface, to be a task no more challenging than any other faced by Rhyfelwyr
, but after months of searching their hunting has come up for nothing. Finally, at their wit's end, rumour reached their ears of an expert on such mysteries and hidden parts of the world, a mad noble in his family home in the mountains of Teutonia. Thus Captain Delmar and some of her crew left Rhyfelwyr
in port and travelled to find Zachary Von Gribblefaust, and recruit him to their quest.
By the time they had returned to the ship, 'Mad Zach' in tow, Asherah Delmar was already regretting it.
|Monday, August 13th, 2007|
'Mad Zack' - Aka Zachary Von Gribblefaust
Beyond the Ruins of the Deciever, past the Hellish Oubliette of the Prophet, within the Terrible Chamber of Words; a treasure of great power was kept.
Tattered scrolls penned by ancient hands told of a talisman that holds the key to immense power and life everlasting. Scrolls that fell into the grubby hands of a certain half-fae explorer one balmy night. The merchant imparted a word of warning with his wares, that to seek the Talisman was to invite destruction of not just the self but the soul as well. Were it to a saner man, his warning may well have been heeded but Captain Zachary was plenty more than eccentric. Barely pausing long enough to stock the Sanchez and raise the anchor, they set off to the furthermost reaches of the world.
Their craft was lashed by terrible storms and beset by the elements. Supplies were spoilt and the sails wrecked before the end of their journey was even in sight. The crew, his trusty friends, began to wonder if their Captain's already weakened grip on sanity had finally been released. After weeks of rain, winds and fierce sea creatures they finally came across the lost Cityisle of Mu. As if exhausted by the journey, the Sanchez began to break apart the nearer they drew to the island until she was nothing more than debris washing against the shore and the drenched survivors came inland. Vast spires of twisting stone and glass, impossibly vast to navigate and yet on Zachary led through this strange place. His charts told them the route to the centre of the alien isle, the pride and joy of the long-dead civilisation and a day of wandering finally led them to their goal.
What came next Mad Zack only speaks aloud in fevered whispers during his worst nightmares. Creatures made from flame and hate, the city itself sinking and always, always the aquatic slumber of something terrible they almost awoke that day. Where the crew of the Dirty Sanchez set foot on Mu, only their captain would leave it. When his creditors found him, more than a month later, he was a solitary wreck of a man adrift on a raft of wreckage. His fine red coat was in tatters, the famous green hair now sporting a mane of white and his once-handsome face, now horribly burnt. The crew could draw no sense from him nor could they pry his hands open to release whatever it was he clutched to his chest. He was returned to the lands of Erin, his debts repaid from his family chest and he was to be placed in the custody of the local Healers.They had hoped to repair his shattered mind and body, but he vanished the very next night.
Months passed as rumours of a scarred figure passed through the villages. He would enter a town, request to see their archives and private libraries and devour all the information he could find, never sleeping and rarely eating before he moved on to the next place. His gold was always good though he kept no company, instead often muttering to himself and holding a strange necklace he wore. One maid in a village he stopped at heard him talking to himself, promising to 'make it up to them all'. When she asked him who he was talking to, Zack fell silent and gave her such a look that she never felt as sorry for someone as she did him that day.
His journey gave him nothing he sought, only more questions. Whatever it was that he had taken from the island had brought him nothing but pain and regret and yet he could not part with it, lest his friends loss be in vain. Night after night he pored over ancient scrolls in forgotten languages to no avail until eventually, he gave up. His fortunes exhausted and his heart broken, Zachary retreated to the moutains of Teutonia, living in the ruined halls of his family manse. None of the locals had dare approach the estate since the fateful explosion almost a century ago that had claimed his father and brother, leaving him alone with the ghosts of his past and present.
Yet legends of his knowledge had spread far and wide, reaching the ears of intrepid explorers and treasure seekers alike. It wasn't long before someone came looking for him...