[HQ Ignorance] Re : Re : Scene 69: The Wild Temple

Lev Lafayette lev at mimesisrpg.com
Sat Aug 2 08:40:59 EST 2008


Exactly what Loran said!


On Fri, 2008-08-01 at 18:59 +0000, Loran wrote:
> Take your time and write something really nice :-)
> 
>  
> 
> I hope everything will be ok for you on monday.
> 
> Loran
> 
> 
> 
> 
> ----- Message d'origine ----
> De : Dougie <dougiepunk at gmail.com>
> À : HeroQuest Glorantha <ignorance at mimesisrpg.com>
> Envoyé le : Vendredi, 1 Août 2008, 13h39mn 24s
> Objet : Re: [HQ Ignorance] Re : Scene 69: The Wild Temple
> 
> Sorry, I know Ishould be doing something here but stressed at ther mo,
> packing to go away for the weekend and then have to go into hospital
> for an operation on Monday so I'm afraid there will be a bit of a
> delay in my posts...
> 
> 
> -:(
> 
> Dougie.
> 
> 2008/7/31 Loran <aillet_l at yahoo.fr>
>         All along their journey, Azhur had felt lost and astound. The
>         desolation of the fabled land of Dragon Pass was pitiful: dead
>         crops in the fields burned by a chilling coldness, beings
>         endowed with reason reduced to the last repulsive survival
>         reflexes… These despairing visions woke an old wound in
>         Azhur's heart, seeing the hand of death on the land made him
>         feel it again in his Essence. Since that time, in a depressed
>         and melancholic mood, the western nobleman rode closer to his
>         followers, especially SwordSinger with whom he seemed to
>         commune speechlessly to some universal and evident but not
>         fully comprehensible law of the Invisible God. Some evenings,
>         his friends could see him, the old Banner of the Red Valor in
>         his hands, praying apart, either with his copy of Good King
>         Siglat's truths or with the original version of the Abiding
>         Book until the stars showed up, then he generally stood up in
>         the night, observing in his hands a small and brilliant
>          tin jewel with a careful attention.
>         
>         When the fellowship saved the duck-man, he enquired in few
>         words about his name. With charity he offered his unloaded war
>         charger as mount, this until the duck-man died or could decide
>         himself his own fate, then Azhur went back to his silent
>         state.
>         
>         At the Wild Temple, the debate between the Beastmen and the
>         orlanthi hero left him uncertain, his sense of duty fighting
>         against his feelings. He knew that he had to stay neutral for
>         the sake of the Quest but the call for action of the bearded
>         devotee was appealing. Saint Worlath as savior of the world
>         during the great darkness was a revered saint in Ralios and
>         Azhur wasn't so sure about the weird wisdom of the Red Moon
>         now that Aalmon has left and that the Abiding Book has
>         revealed the secret face of the ambivalent Arrolian.
>         
>         He looked for Karala and Eurynome, hoping that a female and
>         restrained point of view would be more useful than his male
>         reflexes. Not all problems could be solved with swords and
>         battles, especially when life was so weak and death all
>         around.
>         
>         ----- Message d'origine ----
>         De : Lev Lafayette <lev at mimesisrpg.com>
>         À : HeroQuest Glorantha <ignorance at mimesisrpg.com>
>         Envoyé le : Mercredi, 30 Juillet 2008, 15h20mn 43s
>         Objet : [HQ Ignorance] Scene 69: The Wild Temple
>         
>         
>         Scene 69: The Wild Temple
>         
>         Nauticles was very pleased that the increasingly legendary
>         Fellowship
>         has decided - or so it seems to him - to aid the Satarites in
>         the
>         revival of their dead god, Orlanth. "You must quest to the
>         Wild Temple
>         in Beast Valley", he informed those gathered. "There you will
>         meet the
>         famous Lhankor Mhy sage Minaryth Purple of the Iron Ring who
>         is seeking
>         to bring the beastmen into the fold of rebellion against the
>         Lunar
>         oppressors."
>         
>         As the Fellowship prepares to depart, Nauticles hands Eurynome
>         a golden
>         braclet with cruel teeth along its edges. "Take this to
>         Minaryth. I
>         borrowed it from him many years ago, and by returning it he
>         will know
>         that I have sent you and your new friends." Eurynome found the
>         braclet
>         unpleasant to touch and the teeth almost seemed to bite into
>         her skin
>         when she handled it. It bore the runes of chaos and hunger,
>         symbols of
>         Krasht, the devouring goddess. Yet the golden metal is sacred
>         to the sky
>         pantheon of Yelm, the Sun God and it also bore runes of Storm
>         and of
>         Fire. The meaning of this strange object was beyond Eurynome
>         and
>         Nauticles avoided all questions of its significance.
>         
>         As the Fellowship prepared to head northwards, Kalen acted as
>         a
>         go-between for the Fellowship and the Dwarven engineer who
>         operated the
>         King's vessel and sought askance from the royal leader where
>         he wanted
>         to rendez-vous with their boat. "The elementals may be worn
>         out if the
>         wind does not blow again. Whilst the boat can make do with
>         sail if this
>         doldrum extends eastwards only as far as it did westwards, the
>         engineer
>         believes he can continue - albeit at a slower pace."
>         
>         Once preparations were made, the party set out on their
>         journey,
>         travelling northwards along the Lysos River, passing through
>         the many
>         populated villages that make up Esrolia. It would be a journey
>         of of
>         some seventy-five leagues, hugging the west and south ridges
>         of Shadow
>         Plateau, the home of the terrible Vampire Delecti, before
>         reaching the
>         fabled Beastlands.
>         
>         The air was crisp, cool and still and even breathing was
>         strangely
>         difficult. Rain fell from the sky in a constant drizzle  which
>         became a
>         dreary and cold downpour of sleet as the party turned
>         north-east along
>         the river. "And this is supposed to be spring!", remarked
>         Icthya, and
>         the journey became an march through near-frozen mud. Then the
>         frozen mud
>         turned to snow.
>         
>         Still heading northwards through the snow-storm, the party
>         encountered a
>         most grisly find - a mound of corpses half-eaten by wolves or
>         worse.
>         Closer investigation revealed that the bodies were not,
>         however human,
>         but rather of that most peculiar race of Orlanthi, the sapient
>         and
>         humanoid duck. Among the many bodies there was one survivor,
>         delerious,
>         frost-bitten and perhaps somewhat insane if the tangental
>         conversations
>         were to be of any account. "The temple... we sought refuge at
>         the
>         temple.. The old god is dead, the cold.. The cold has taken
>         all my
>         fellows... and the beastmen.. the wolfmen.. They set upon us.
>         We could
>         not resist and we fell... Food for the carnivore.."
>         
>         Taking pity on the poor creature the Fellowship wrapped him in
>         a blanket
>         and recovered a jug of brandy which he grasped greedily for.
>         After
>         consuming far more than what his small size could possibly
>         indicate, the
>         drulz fell into a deep sleep, and required being propped on
>         Blackmane,
>         Azhur's faithful steed.
>         
>         Eventually the party made their way into Beastland proper.
>         Here there
>         were villages and hamlets of the various human-beast
>         crossbreeds, which
>         Icthya and Karala felt comfortable with, reminding them of
>         both their
>         homes and even more so the Castle Coast region of Seshnela. A
>         community
>         of centaurs, of satyrs, some Telmori and others even more
>         strange
>         treated the party cautiously when announcements were made and
>         did not
>         hinder their progress.
>         
>         Finally, weeks after setting out, the Fellowship made it to
>         the great
>         standing stones of the Wild Temple which were emblazoned with
>         the runes
>         of Beast, Man and Spirit among many others. In the middle of
>         the circle,
>         illuminated by many campfires, stood a man with a dark goatee
>         and wild
>         coat. He carried a two feathered staff, and the runes of Truth
>         and Law
>         were emblazoned upon his face. He was appealing to the
>         assembled
>         beastman of many varieties, clearly leaders of their kind. He
>         called for
>         them to join a rebellion against the Lunar Empire, to end the
>         bitter
>         winter so that Orlanth may breath freely again.
>         
>         
>         But his message was not being well received. "Our magic works,
>         and yours
>         does not", claimed a centaur. "Why should we put faith in a
>         dead God?".
>         "Your people hunted us because of the mark of chaos that we
>         have no
>         control over", howled a Telmori. "The Lunar's have treated us
>         with
>         sympathy and offered us a peace that your kind never did."
>         "The cold may
>         be great, but we still have food and warmth from fire", said a
>         Morocanth
>         trader as his fur was groomed by a gern. "We survive and
>         humans must
>         come to us for trade. Tell us why this is a bad thing."
>         
>         It was in this wild babble that the Fellowship arrived.
>         
>         
>         
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