Ieros

Good Burns Me... DEMON WIN!
Ehcuo’s personal journal #8

Well today started with a bang… Or was it a bite? Ben and I took a little trip out of town back down to my Mer Brethren and just our luck… SHARKS! About six of them. Luckily, I made quick friends with four of the toothy bastards… That didn’t really stop one of the other two from biting a couple chunks out of my side. I managed to shake free and promptly put some distance between them and I. By the time i made my way back to them, Ben had gutted the oversized guppies. Man I love to hate that guy.

Once we were done with that little roadblock, Ben wrangled a couple of the friendlier sharks and we made our way to Poseidons underwater Temple. I didn’t really WANT to return to this particular Gods ego stroking worship warehouse, but apparently when I animated his statue, and had it aid us in killing his dragon, it rubbed him the wrong way. Can you say sensitive?! Anyway, we made our way to his shrine, killed a couple sharks in his name and gave a little blood to appease his bruised, easily diminished, self-worth. I don’t personally get the big deal with this silly frat of immortals, but I do understand that when you are going to need to take a long boat ride over the ocean, you don’t want to shit in a gods bathtub just before leaving port.

So that’s that, Poseidon should be content. On to the next hassle. This part I’m not going to try and explain too much because its too weird… random… randomly weird.. Ben and I made our way back up out of the sea and into the Library. When we stepped in, there was an odd blue man reading our books. He seemed very dis interested in everyone. He gave us all a gift from his bag, every time he looked in, he chuckled a little bit, then handed something out. I’m not sure why.. it didn’t even seem like HE knew why… Or cared.. or even noticed. It was like he was blindly shooshing his children so that he could continue reading his stories. I’m not going to complain, I got a sweet rod.. We asked if he could take us to the Yaun-ti city, then we were their, in the middle of it.. We scurried back into the library and told him that we were just asking.. and that we had business in the sub basement of the Apollo temple… then we were their. I will never look at the color blue in the same way again.

Not sure if I have said anything about his.. But we started a Thieves guild In the underground tunnels of Go-Glen. One of our senior members informed us of some Blades of Light below the temple of Apollo… Naturally, we put that at the top of our list of things to do.

When we arrived it was dark and stunk like only a Gods dirty basement could. We all made our way to a central area and noticed a few building and a suspicious pit in the middle of the room.. My Demon senses were tingling. Although I didn’t really SEE Zayn, I figured he was scouting the area.. No one ever sees Zayn unless he deems you worthy or worth killing. All of the sudden a huge stone beast of a woman, (no, not the dwarfs mom), came threw a building as if it wasn’t there and was swinging her mighty hammer. She slammed Jade into the floor and then sank back into the building.

Treeb didn’t like seeing his beloved Tiefling Ranger treated in such a way.. He made haste to corner the beast inside the cramped dwelling. He took a few swings. I did what I could to aid him.. I gave him the gift of invisibility so that he could build up the strength to unleash his fury… and furious it was. All of the sudden, the HALF giant was ALL giant.. A little more naked that i would have liked to see, but wroth what came next. The beast of Apollo didn’t seem to want any part of this frothing giant, he retreated back through the wall to finish off the less imposing Jade.. little did it know that Jade had back up and a frothing dwarf had taken her place.. NO WHERE TO GO BITCH!!!! I know this overgrown pile of rubble was done so I did what only a good bard could do.. I PLAYED!! The jam session continued for a slew of attacks… At one point the beast raised a wall cutting Jade and I off from the battle.. soon after that we notices a bright explosion of light and then it was done.

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I made my way around the buildings and saw three glowing swords in the pit in the center of the room… I quickly snatched up the long sword. It burned with the wrath of a god. Some would loathe the burn of a holy blade.. but when you are a Tiefling trying to become a full blooded evil demon hell spawn, the burn of holy blade is nothing but confirmation that you are doin it RIGHT! It burned SO good! Happy as I was, I quickly stashed the blade in my bag so as not to die of holy bullshit.

Now it is time for rest. I have dropped the hilt off and paid a local tailor to craft a protective hilt wrapping for my newfound Holy Sword. It will take some time. I will pass the next couple of weeks with rest. I have met a Dwarf that is as intimidating as I am Charming.. I think it is time for me to lean this skill of intimidation, and he has agreed to teach me. What good is being a Demon if you cant scare the shit out lesser beings?

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Character Insight: Ehcuo D'Yreggab
Why Is Ehcuo The Way He Is?

Ehcuo is one of the easiest and hardest player characters I have ever created. He is very easy to write and roll play in the moment simply because he is definitely a direct extension of my own personality, feelings and thoughts. What makes him hard to play is that the “extension” he is, is that of him being my jerk reaction.

In real life, when I have an initial reaction to something.. It is internal. I have time to evaluate the situation, see other points of view, asses if I am over or under reacting and decide a point of action. Ehcuo on the other hand, doesn’t do any of that. If something happens in game that initially makes ME mad, Ehcuo is mad.. end of story. It is canon. If my jerk reaction is to talk shit and be a douche… Ehcuo does it, no assessing, no discussion..

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Now, this makes Ehcuo one of the hardest characters to play because in real life, I have very specific mental… baggage. My jerk reactions to most confrontations, misunderstandings and inconveniences are defensive, crude, self centered and sometimes aggressive. It’s easy for me to overreact. It’s my conscience and my ability to internalize a situation before I react that makes me a productive member of society… Ehcuo doesn’t have that. He is the extension of the worst parts of my real life personality. Needless to say, he’s angry a lot.. He can be abrasive and he is very quick to tell people to eat a dick. Due to this personality trait, it is hard for him to have close relationships and to trust people. It is also hard for people to like him or be on his side. Which makes a game that revolves around teamwork a challenge. It is worth it because for me it makes the story more immersive and personal. Although it can create conflict in and out of game, in the long run, I think it makes the story better.

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Stoned
Jades Journal Entry

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Drinking with a Half-Giant
Hecate loves a good sacrifice

I see Ehcuo writing in his book all the time, so maybe I should write in a book too.

My friend Jade got turned to stone, again. I’m not sure who did it but they were really good at shooting arrows. Got me a couple times, it hurt a little bit.

We went to that weird library that’s sometimes behind doors, I’m not sure what that’s about but its for another time. Ehcuo and the Dwarf went back to the fish people to find the guy that helped us last time. But I that place was confusing so me and Zayn took Jade to the city to ask a priest for his help.

Turns out the only temple still standing was Poseidon’s. When the old man priest finally opened the door I helped him to the alter and told him to fix her. I guess this kind of thing costs a lot of money but I didn’t bring any. Good thing Zayn was there, I think.

He cast his magic and it looked like it was working but then nothing happened priest tried to say he didn’t know why or what was happening, but I think he was cheating us. Then he asked if Jade was even a person. Steal from me and then insult my friend!? He had to die.

I would have made it quick for the holy man but Zayn appeared and blocked it somehow with his daggers, how’d he even do that? That made me even madder! So I swung with all of my strength. He blocked again but I’m pretty strong, Hecate made sure of that, and that weird stormy drink helped too, so I was able to break through a little. Why was he helping this old liar and thief?

Next thing I know he has his dagger at my throat, damn that guy is fast. He said our fight wasn’t with the priest, but he stole from us so of course it was. I thought I would show him one of my tricks and become the mist above him, but somehow I pulled him with me and we just fell to the ground instead. Maybe he was right, but what else could I do? My friend needed me and I couldn’t help her. I asked Mother what I should do. She said that Hecate was the answer and that I should make a sacrifice. But of what? So I sacrificed some of the pews, but that wouldn’t be enough.

Zayn said we should go for a drink, maybe that would help me think. I covered up Jade with my cloak cause I didn’t want that old guy to do anything weird. When we got to the bar people were staring. I’m not sure why. I asked the barkeep where the mead was and said Zayn would pay, 1 barrel would be enough. Some jerk bumped me while I was taking a drink so I knocked him out. The mead was good but still dissapointing, its never like Mother’s. Some other guy must not have liked that cause he stabbed me in the back. But for some reason it didn’t hurt, it was weird. But it was that moment that I realized what I could sacrifice. Zayn grabbed the guy and I was going to take him out back but Zayn said do it in the bar. Then I was going to carve Hecate’s symbol in the ground to fill with his blood, cause I don’t know how all this stuff works, but Zayn cut the guys throat and said that was a sacrifice. I think it made people mad cause a bunch of them pulled weapons out.

I ran to the group before they could surround me, using my cool new helmet to pass the nearest guy off to Zayn to finish. He ran to the other side of group and now they were surrounded. Two Yuan-Ti threw their daggers at me. But just like the other guy, it didn’t even hurt me. I took care of the 2 guys in front of me. Then I thought Zayn was pulling out a scroll or something but the mead must have been getting to me cause it was a couple of daggers. Then he just threw them out the window and there was a bright flash of light and blast of some kind of magic. Suddenly I was surrounded, and they were slicing and stabbing and I wasn’t feeling anything, I wasn’t sure what was happening. But I knew it was right and this was the sacrifice I needed to make. So I made sure they knew that Hecate accepted their sacrifice before cutting them all down. Somehow their blood had formed Hecate’s symbol on the floor, so I knew she was happy.

Zayn talked to some weird one-eyed guy. Then he melted the Yuan-Ti’s holy symbols down and poured on the other guys hand, with his own hand. It must not have been very hot cause neither of them even flinched. I threw the barkeep all the gold from bodies cause I kinda made a mess and I grabbed my barrel then we left into that library again.

Hecate spoke to me in my dream. She said that she was pleased with my sacrifice and that she would grant me one wish. But I had to choose carefully, because it was the only one she could give me. I almost wished to have Mother back, but I remembered Jade needed my help, and besides, she was always with me. She was the only reason I was getting the wish in the first place. Then Zayn was there and he said I needed to be careful because wishes are tricky. I had to choose my words carefully so they could not be confused or twisted. I figured since I only got one wish I would try to make it count as much as possible, i would help Jade and maybe I could get something for myself as well. Zayn was there to help me pick my words carefully. I wished to undo the bad things that our fight with Yaun-Ti had caused, hopefully to get that weird hat guy to go away too. And I wished to channel my Father’s rage, he was so strong when fought, and I want to be stronger. There was something about Apollo’s light too, but I can’t quite remember, and I’m not even sure why I said it, whatever it was.

When I woke the next morning I could feel my Father’s rage stirring up a bit inside me. I hadn’t felt that in quite a while, I can’t really remember when. Hopefully that meant Jade was fixed. We left the library back into that bar. It was weird cause the door was boarded up but it opened like normal. Zayn talked to the barkeep about a temple and buying the bar. But all I could think of was getting back to the temple of Poseidon.

When we got there, there she was in all her glory. Her beautiful horns, I’m not sure why she hides them. And her kind of weird legs, when did that happen? It doesn’t matter, she’s my friend and maybe one day she will bear me fine and fierce children, if she wants to. Either way, she’s safe now, and I’m going to try and keep it that way.

This writing stuff isn’t too bad, but it sure does take a while.

All hail King Bel Fir.

Hey! You little shit.

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Unscheduled Adventuring
Ehcuo’s personal journal #7

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At the end of my last entry, Jade was a statue and we were about to tango with an unknown foe… And now none of that is a thing. Apparently I “took a nap” in the library while most of the other members in our party healed Jade, made wishes and dissolved a healthy and violent feud with the entire Yuan-ti race.

Now, I have come to terms that I am the outsider in this group. Even with Jade, my flesh and blood, we rarely see eye to eye. But after this, what’s the fuckin point?! These motherfuckers obviously don’t need me. They can OBVIOUSLY handle their shit while I conveniently “nap” during intense situation… such as a petrified sister.

So I guess this is now where I stand, alone in a party of five. Don’t let anyone ever tell you the journey to the top isn’t lonely… Oh well, that’s just fine. I will look out for number one, and when I am a Lord, raining in the depths of Hell, I will construct a REAL party.. fuck that shit, AN ARMY!

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Jade: The Freeze Tag Champion!
Ehcuo's Personal Journal #6

After we slew the Dragon that was hindering the Merfolk from living as they once did, things calmed down a bit. We had some down time to rest, and even some extra money and resources to have a few sets of Dragon Scale armor made. The wife and I got to know each other a little better and I’m confident that this union will be very lucrative for both parties. After a little over a month it was time to get to adventuring. We said our goodbyes and made for the surface. We decided to head into the nearby town… on the way, I realized i was still carrying the eerie Yuan-ti ring and decided to dump it.

As we reached town, Jade concluded that the ring I had left behind was potentially too valuable so she backtracked to retrieve it… I know i know, we should have known better. As Jade went off on her own… again… Bynzhamyn went into town to procure a few thing, I hit up the bar for some libations and Treeb offered the locals his mighty strength in rebuilding their fallen walls. Not long after I settled into my third drink, mom looked at me with only the fear a cursed into a ring with one eyed mother could give. It was Jade! In trouble again…

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When we finally made it to my little sis, what we saw was utterly……. familiar. She was a statue.. again. I may have left this out of my last entry, but Jade MAY have had a run in with a little petrification during our fight with that pesky Dragon. It was not my statue of a sister that made me uneasy, we have dealt with that before… it was the figure off in the distance.. This was not going to be good.

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A Lot Has Happened
Ehcuo's Personal Journal #5

It has been too long since my last entry, and more has happened than I can say. In short, my path to take my place as a true Demon Lord is on it way to fruition. The transformation in my physical appearance has already begun… And when I say “my”, I in fact mean me AND all of my traveling companions. The Chalice of Broken Teeth was well worth the journey and the fight. Who knew drinking the blood of a dragon would yield such high rewards? I must thank my Quasit friend, King Bel Fir for pointing me in the direction of the marvelous chalice. You have been of great help.. yes, I am talking to you Bel Fir, don’t think i don’t know you read my journal you drippings from a Dwarfs beard.
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I’m not sure my band of traveling misfits planned on becoming a keystone in my plan to bring forth a new coming of Demons, but who’s gunna argue with the will of the Gods. Although great things have happened, and progress has been made, our journey has just begun.

This entry will have end here, my wife seems in the mood and I must grace her with my touch.

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The Story of a Half Giant

Mother, Agatha:
A rather ogre-ish, very large woman (7", 400+lbs) with striking green eyes and hair of fire. Lead a solitary life; hunting, fishing, gardening, woodwork. Lived in a log cabin outside of town. Skilled hunter, trapper, and woodsman. A very talented brewer of honey mead, though only her and her husband ever got to indulge, and indulge they did.

IMG_20160327_231907.jpgFather, Razmagog, Outcast:
Runt Cloud giant (12’ 8", 2500+lbs) typical cloud giant grey skin sky blue hair and eyes. Outcast in adolescence for small size and preferring the valleys and lowlands, though still loving the fog and clouds. He kept the home in a state of perpetual fog, except on the clearest of nights in the summer. He slept outside the home because it was too small, and he preferred it that way. Though he had not quite reached full maturity, he was gathering large stone slabs and objects and materials of particular beauty and rarity for his future cloud castle.

a743c39aa8f0f76bce7ed770498fe798.jpg“Treeb” (formerly Treeboy) aka. Miltiades (meaning ‘red earth’), son of Razmagog, Outcast:
8’9", 976 lbs
Fighter, Battle Master
Light ashy grey skinned half cloud giant.
Hair color: the greyest of blues, including his facial hair, he wears it all in a wild mane, unkempt and untrimmed.
Eye color: a peculiar mix of blue and green, the observer can never quite tell if the eyes are blue or green

Miltiades, his parents called him Milli, age 12, was out playing and heard a commotion.
He returned home to see his mother and father bleeding, several bodies strewn about. He hid in the bushes and watched the battle rage on.
His parents were putting up an impressive fight but there were just too many of them.
First to fall was Agatha, a strike from behind while she used a woodcutter’s axe and cauldron lid to slay 3 foes ahead.
The sight of his fallen wife caused Razmagog to enter a frenzied rage and he cleaved through the 5 soldiers before him with his giant’s great axe. He fought valiantly, but again the numbers were too much.
They took out his Achilles tendons but he fought on, slaying 3 more. He let out a mighty roar and just then, a well timed arrow caught him straight in the throat.
Not dead, but close, they loaded his body onto a large cart and secured him down with some kind of magical chain. They left the dead and carted the giant away.
They never saw the large boy hiding in the bushes, but he saw them. And 2 faces would haunt his dreams for many nights to come, the leader of this foul band of mercenaries, and his mother’s killer.
He grieved his mother and father until nightfall and fell asleep next to his mother’s body. He was plagued by terrible nightmares that night as he watched his parents fall over and over again, the men laughing in his face. He awoke to his dead mother’s lifeless eyes staring at him, he shrieked and scrambled away.
Then he cried again.
But Miltiades was very smart for his age and he knew no help would come. He gathered up 2 bundles of items.
The 1st was a collection of valuables and objects that he thought might be of worth. This he hid in a secret spot he made beneath a tree a few minutes from the cabin.
The 2nd bundle was the pack he planned to take with him; some crusts of bread, dried fish and meat, a few fruits and vegetables, a small sack of nuts, several pieces of flint, a small knife, a ragged doll his mother made for him, a healing potion hidden in the cupboards, and a large water skin.
He decided to try his mother’s honey mead for the first and probably last time, it was wonderful.
He put on his newest hunting jerkin, received just a few days earlier. And finally he went outside and grasped his mother’s hand, slowly removing a worn golden ring, a gift from the giant’s courtship.
He grabbed the blood-spattered woodcutter’s axe next to her body and began to depart. He paused and turned back, he couldn’t leave her to rot. So he dug he a grave, shallow, for he was just a boy. He placed some sticks in the shape of an A atop the grave. He put on his pack and picked up his mother’s axe, then he grabbed the spare axe next to the home and departed, tears in his eyes.
He followed the path of the mercinaries for several days, never on the road, but just beyond the treeline. He didn’t notice when the tracks split and the carts trail disappeared in the woods on the opposite side, nor did he care. Either his father was dead or he would crush them all. But his mother was dead and he would make them pay, somehow
Eventually he heard them, and the loud and raucous chatter of drunk men. He stopped, and proceeded slowly, being sure to keep his large bulk in as much shadow as he could.
He watched these men, these terrible, wicked men, carry on and revel. He hated them, he wanted to see them pay. But he knew he was too weak. They had killed his mother and father both. So he had to become stronger.

He followed the band of mercenaries for years. They referred to themselves as the Arrowhead. His mother’s killer, Artem, turned out to be the leader, Leon’s, second in command.
He watched them. He watched them fight. He learned from them. He swung his axes around day and night.
He ambushed a scout several weeks in, cleaving his axes into the back of the scouts skull. He took the man’s bow and his clothes, leaving him naked back on the road.
Not long after, stories started around camp of the mysterious “Treeboy” that seems to lurk in the trees. Some men were scared and some were only amused. They would call out to him, “come on Treeboy, let us see you.” And they would try to ambush him, but his cloud giant blood helped him to escape them again and again.
He followed them on their missions and their raids. He was spotted a few times early on and the story of Treeboy grew. But as he watched and he learned, he used the hunting skills his mother taught him, and he began to thin the herd.
At first it was a straggler here and there, or a scout. He would surprise them from behind and most never saw his face. Those that did had the most curious looks of surprise and realization. He was not a scared boy or a curious creature, not a ghost or apparition. No wild boy following them for protection or companionship. He was a hunter and they were his prey. He was a messenger, delivering them to Hades for their sins
As time went on there was never a shortage of new men and woman hungry for coin and loot and blood. But he never touched the two he longed to kill. He wasn’t strong enough. He didn’t want to ambush them, he wanted them to see his face as he used his mother’s axe to take from them their precious lives.
He began to eliminate small groups of 2 or 3, ambushing them at first, then finishing his smaller, weaker foes, the younger and less experienced of his enemies.
Occasionally he would select a veteran, using the ambush to weaken them, then he would put his skills to the test. He was by no means a skilled warrior, as the various scars and wounds that riddled his body would attest, but he was stong, and his conviction kept him alive.
He felt the rage of his father many times over the years, but he suppressed it. He would talk to himself and talk to his mother and he would explain that he wanted to be a whirling tornado, born in the clouds, he loved the clouds. But the rage was a volcano, it would poison the clouds with its black smoke, and that he could not allow to happen.
He began to call himself Treeb, for he was no longer a boy in his eyes, and the name of his father was too sacred. This was the time he began to understand the mist and the fog. They were his and he was theirs. It spoke a secret language, that of dampness and silence. And secrets, for he knew that the men could not see in the fog as well as him, for they were not of the clouds. He was careful and meticulous. Never making fire near them, and keeping his axes razor sharp. Always ready for a scout or an ambush, always watching and always listening.
He grew older and he could feel the strength filling his body. And he knew that he needed more so he began to train. He would fell trees in the deeper forests, for hours at a time he would chop. He used only the spare axe for this, for his mother’s axe had a thirst for blood and nothing else.
As he got bigger and stronger and his skills with the twin axes improved, he grew bolder. Dispatching 6 or 8 of the lesser men, even taking on a pair of grizzled veterans. He knew the time was drawing near, he would have his sweet revenge at last.
He began with the great leader of this terrible band, start with the lesser joy so he could savor the death of his mother’s killer. He waited until the scarred and well worn veteran was alone, he thought he was safe in his latest victory. Treeb never knew what the missions were, nor did he care, all he saw was the red death of his enemies. The man, he did not even know his name, for he did not care what name the man had, he only wish for the man’s blood to join the stains of his mother’s upon her axe. He did not ambush the man like all the others. He merely killed the guards outside his make shift command room and walked through the doors, smiling with blood spattered teeth, blood dripping from his axes. But Treeb did not see the look he was expecting in the man’s eyes. Not surprise or confusion or fear, but of knowing and understanding and realization.
The man spoke to him, “Ah, I can see him in you. The king did not know the giant had a son. I see that the playful boy that leads in many a campfire story told by my men is actually the thorn that has been piercing my side for years. Treeboy—”
“Treeb.” He interrupted
The man chuckled, “Of course, Treeb, for you are a boy no longer. Come to get your revenge I suppose?”
“Yes, Mother thirsts for your blood.” When had he started calling the axe Mother? It did not matter because he could feel her thirst. “But not as much as she craves the blood of her killer.” He laughed a dark laugh.
“Well then,” the man rose from the chair he had been sitting in, “let’s see how well you fight with those axes.” He pulled out his large, dark blade and held it at the ready. Suddenly he charged.

It was a vicious, hard-fought battle, with both sides giving and receiving several blows. In the midst of the fury they both paused, blood dripping from their blades. “It’s too bad you won’t be leaving here alive.” The man said breathily, before smiling an evil smile.

And in that moment Treeb thought of his father for the first time in many years. He had never found out what happened to his father or where the cart went. But now his memory told Treeb what he had to do, and so he let the rage in for the first time. And the Rage felt so good, he could feel himself getting lost in it, and he knew that he might not be able to come back. Still, he let it wash over him and it flowed in him, through him, and he was full.
He met the man’s charge and it overjoyed him when he saw the smile turn to fear. And with some unnatural speed and strength he broke the charge and planted his axes in both sides of the man’s heart, killing him almost instantly. When Treeb removed the blades he saw a neat little slice of the man’s heart stuck to mother’s blade, and in his rage he ate it. Somewhere in his mind he knew he shouldn’t but the rage clouded his judgement, and he satiated his hunger for revenge with a piece of his enemy’s heart. He could taste the warm metallic blood as it coated every surface of his mouth, the flesh tough and chewy in its raw state. His deeper mind was horrified by what he was doing, but the rage wanted it, and the rage felt so good.
After swallowing that piece of the man’s heart he began to use mother to hack up the man’s body. He used the parts and entrails to send them a terrible message.
“I’m here.”

For a while the men were vigilant, much more so than usual. And the killer, that is what Treeb knows him by, again, his name is unimportant. He took his place as leader of the mercenaries, but as Treeb watched from the shadows he could see fear in the killer’s eyes. He questioned his own men, he was suspicious of each of them.
Treeb had his own fear. The rage. It was a feeling so delightful and exhilarating, but at the same time horrifying. He knew he to remember the moment always, so he would never give in to the rage again.
Treeb gave them a time of peace, he knew they would begin to let their guard down. He was waiting for the right time and he knew that time was coming.

The men were hunting a pegasus. They cared nothing for the creature, they wanted only its wings. And Treeb listened to their plan, like he always did, and he knew this was the time. They were going to rain arrows around it so it wouldn’t take off. Funnel it through a narrow canyon carved into the nearby mountain, it had sheer sides that wouldn’t allow the pegasus to take off. Then on the other side of the canyon is a cliff, where the pegasus would try to fly, but they would have men with nets and chains waiting to stop it. It was the perfect place to make his own ambush. The men could fit no more than 2 or 3 across while in the canyon and they wouldn’t be worried about what’s behind them. And best of all, as a show of strength the killer wanted to lead the chase. Perfect.
And so Treeb sharpened his axes to perfection and waited. He called upon the fog, willing it out with more conviction than he ever had before, and it filled the canyon and the area around it. He was going to kill as many as he could before finishing off the killer. Finally they began to get into position, the fog was no obstacle to them, for the plan was almost perfect, almost. They left a few behind to stay with camp, Treeb took them out first. Cleaving heads from bodies, he killed almost without sound in the fog, his axe blades slicing their flesh like one would slice an apple.
He set the camp abaze as soon as all were dead, all but a boy, no more than 14. He appeared to the boy through the mist and told him to go, for this would be a place of great violence. And just as swiftly, he disappeared back into mist. Treeb followed the path of the men,and found the 6 archers foolishly grouped together after their job was done. 4 of them were dead before the others could let out a quick shriek of surprise. Then they too had their cries cut short, like his father. Whenever he thought of his father he could feel the rage creep up, but he suppressed it. He traversed the mist until he found the entrance to the canyon, and the slowest of those that were chasing the pegasus. 2 men side by side, each leaning on a side of the canyon wall catching their breath. He wanted the voices of these men to echo through the canyon, and whisper through the mist. He kneeled behind the men, flipped his axe blades around, and with 2 reverse strikes he removed both of their legs. The 2 men screamed as their legless torsos fell to the ground. He rolled them both over and quieted their screams with axe blades to the face. He knew this would be the final battle and he wasn’t going to let any of them escape with their lives. He began to walk down the canyon, each heavy stomp vibrating across the canyon floor. He wanted them afraid. As a precaution and a scare tactic he planted the axes in the walls behind him while he walked, causing the pathway to become blocked with rocks and rubble and creating a quiet thunder that both roared and whispered through the canyon. He could see some men running towards him, so he stepped through the mist directly in front of them, removing their weapon hands before their heads. This pattern continued, with the walls falling behind him and men running to him, getting dismembered and eliminated.
His flesh bore several wounds from stones and blades when he finally sees the 2 men with nets and hears the cries of the pegasus trapped beneath them. He removed their arms and then their heads. He could smell that it was just him, the killer, and the pegasus. And then he smelled something else, something he couldn’t quite remember. He sees the killer, his greatsword planted in the ground before him. Then he feels a strong gust of wind that blows away the fog, and at that moment Treeb was slammed to the ground by a bolt of lightning. In the brief moment after the flash but before the bolt, Treeb thought, ’that’s the smell’ and he saw the killer smiling.
He was stunned and everything hurt, but he knew he had to get up. He grabbed his axes and rolled away from the killer, just in time to miss a mighty downward chop. He got to his knees and blocked another cleaving strike with Mother. His eyes widened as he saw the notch in Mother’s blade where he caught the greatsword.
The man laughed, “Hahaha, I see that the giant had a son. And is that your mother’s axe? The king would find that very amusing. It’s too bad you’ll die here today.”
Treeb smiled his own bloody smile, “Mother has been thirsty for your blood for so very long.” He said it not to the killer, but to his axe. He rose to his feet, an 8 foot mountain of a man, covered in his own and the blood of his enemies. The real battle began.
The killer kept up his gust of wind so the fog and mist could not help Treeb. Still he held his own. The killer was a master with his blade, striking with both his downswing and upswing. And Treeb was his own masterpiece, swinging and twisting and twirling his axes with uncanny deftness. Each side landed their own minor blows but neither of them made another sound. If one were somehow witness to this great battle they would hear nothing but the clang of metal and the occasional cry of a pegasus.

The killer swung wide and Treeb went in for a death blow, but he realized, too late, that it was a feint, and the killer carried through with the swing, spinning around entirely and driving a great blow to the back. It was after this moment that Treeb began to lose the battle, taking more blows than the killer. After each blow he felt the rage rising, but he thought of mother and forced it down. He was breathing heavily now, not making his own attacks, only dodging and blocking, and resting when he could. But the killer was relentless. Treeb jumped back from another mighty sideways blow but the tip caught his chest and he dropped to a knee. Again he felt the rage rising, but before he could suppress it the man spoke, “Your father would be disappointed.” Instead, he thought of his mother and father’s great battle and in his mind he saw his mother smile. He let the white-hot fury of Mother’s revenge and the blood boiling rage of his father intertwine within him, and he let it into every corner of his being. The killer saw his eyes grow wide and bloodshot, and the peculiar color shift to black, as he rose to his full height, somehow taller and larger than he was just moments before. He bellowed a mighty roar. “Ah,” the killer chuckled, “there it is.”

Suddenly Treeb struck, the blows coming hard and fast. There was rage but it was focused. With the memory of his parents driving him, Miltiades, their son, was a whirlwind, a raging tornado of death. He swung blow after blow, some being blocked and dodged, some drawing blood. The killer drew nearer and nearer to the cliff edge when a sudden back swing caught square him in the side and he landed face down on the ground, unmoving.

Treeb stood above the man, kicking his sword away. He needed only Mother for this final blow. With a great swing he planted his other axe in the ground beside him. Then he brought Mother high in the air…
Unbeknownst to both men the lighting bolt had caused the cliff to crack. And the great battle taking place above weakened it even further. Treeb cleaving his axe into the cliff was the final straw. And as he was raising Mother up, the cliff side collapsed, sending both men tumbling to the forrested valley below.

Treeb woke up sometime later, for a moment, it was night, then he passed out again. He awoke the next morning in agony, his left leg was broken as were several ribs, and everything hurt. He had to splint his leg but he had to set it first. He put a stick in his mouth and wedged his foot under a root. He pulled himself away with speed and heard a loud crack. He passed out again. What happened? Where was he? How did he even know what he was doing? This wasn’t the body of a 12 year old boy.
The last thing he could remember was burying his mother’s body. A flash of memory; his mother’s axe stained with blood, a notch in the blade from something… Oh no! Where was Mother?! He got to his feet despite the pain screaming at him not to move and started to look around him. He found an axe, but it wasn’t the right one. He began to search frantically, shoving rocks and tree branches around. He came upon a particular rock that looked to be split in half, but it was large. He pushed off with his good leg and pushed with all his might, it wouldn’t budge. Without thinking, he put his broken leg down and pushed again. He passed out.

When he woke up he looked around him and there was Mother in the crack. He thought again; What happened? Who attacked my family? Another flash of memory; “…The king didn’t know the giant had a son…”, “… The king would find that amusing…” The king? What king? The king of where? He didn’t know. But what he did know was that the king had to die, and if he had to kill every last king in the world, then that’s just what he would do.

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The King is Dead

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As of last knight in the palace a group of invaders made it into the castle. Once in the castle the invader managed to separate the king from the rest of the masquerade. In doing so managed to throw him from the balcony. In some feat of magic managing to survive the fall a Dwarf now identified as Bynzhamyn Mahkgrudyr was the main slayer or the king. A few other a bit out of sight on the balcony were also witnessed there.

The archmage Archmage Paraxas Interview many of the guest and and skulked the area. It is said he is using his magics to try and find the people responsible But as for the past few days there has been no response to the public. IT has been a month now and no word from our archmage and only few mentions of the king from the palace. In one week the kingdoms from all over will be sending their princes to inquire on the princess hand.

top of the lists to be coming to our fine city is the prince of the Ikarii and the high prince of the Yaun-ti people. We will see their offers. no one has heard fromPrincess Lina’apollis’reeves One whom unlike her father has made seldom a public appearance.

Where are these assassins, Who is behind this great plot. Where has our archmage gone. What is in store for our city of light in these dark days.

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The start of a new adventure!
Fionais' Journal

One night as I was in town, about to sneak my meal from Fearghus, I felt a presence and turned in time to meet a club to my head, and then blackness. I woke up in a slave camp next to some spiritual healers who were tending to my wounds. I don’t know what I was there for, but there were people digging everywhere. My hands were bound to prevent me from doing magic, and I was surrounded by guards. Eventually I learned to trust these two men. They wanted to help and they wanted to escape. Unsurprising to me Fearghus ended up in our tent quite a few times, beaten and bloodied from the giants. As much as I was annoyed with his antics, the lad had quite the charm. Talking to him I never realized how kind of a lad he is, and learned about his need for booze to conjure his magic. It was then that I decided to bring him in on the escape plan.

Needless to say it didn’t go over quite how I thought. There were dogs everywhere, and I assumed I could get away with changing into one unnoticed. The boys took quite a beating during my quest to find the keys and some wine for my friend. The tent was surrounded by guards so my only option was to hide the loot, catch their attention, and run…or fly…

We managed to get out and were able to go back to free some of the people. Which caused quite another ruckus. During our quest to find these dwarves the two spirituals keep talking about, we came across an abandoned camp. Yearning for more warmth (the bear I managed to convince to give it’s life only had enough fur for one of our men) we started rummaging through the remains in search of clothes. Only to be attacked by these monster spiders! With a little help from my eagle form and help from the others we were able to defeat them, but not before one took one of our guys and disappeared. Who knows where he went, some other realm it sounds like.

But crazy Fearghus hatched a plan to merge all of our magic and somehow rip a hole into that other realm and went in for him. Came out of it looking like a puzzle. He died soon after that. As much of a loner I am, I feel an emptiness without him. He was easily the closest person to me, and now he’s gone… And the damn boozer took my shapeshifting with him! Maybe these dwarves know a way for me to get it back…and maybe Fearghus as well. But for now, we march on.

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