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#1 valdren Sep 10, 2003 14:11:05

I'd like to hear what you all think... Turk Strongbrow (Male Half-Ogre Fighter 2 N) – A bastard half-ogre of Khurish decent, Turk grew up in the small costal city of Ak-Khurman. Apprenticed to his grandfather, a respected blacksmith, Turk has so far spent his young life toiling at his grandfather’s forge dreaming of adventure, dragons, and most especially treasure. Turk’s friends consist of the kender Arlie Nimblefoot, whose antics also seem to generate all kinds of trouble and the mysterious elf Kardanon, who occasionally hires Turk to accompany him on strange errands into the surrounding badlands. Arlie Nimblefoot (Male Kender Rogue 3 CN) – Arlie’s parents were lucky enough to escape Kendermore during Malystryx rampage across Balifor, once more they were even lucky to escape the affliction that so many of other kender suffered. Arlie’s parents soon washed up on the shores of Khur; there they wandered for a time before settling down in Ak-Khurman to raise Arlie. Arlie’s best friend is the lonely half-ogre Turk, who, Arlie is convinced, would get into no end of trouble without him. Arlie is fascinated with the mage Kardanon and is always pestering him to teach him some magic. Kardanon Althonas (Male Silvanesti Elf Rogue 1/Wizard 2 N) – Born on the northern border of Silvanesti, Kardanon became an adult within the shadow of the Shield. His parents, bitter at the abandonment by their southern kin, nonetheless continued to eke out a meager existence within the dying forests near the Shield. Kardanon began to study magic at time when the old magic was fading from the world. But by embracing the new Primal Sorcery, he became at outcast and branded as a dark elf. Cursing his narrow-minded people Kardanon left Silvanesti and traveled north into the desert, always searching for more powerful magic. He ended up in Ak-Khurman, there he opened a small curio shop and with the aid of a half-ogre and his kender companion, he scours the sands for ancient magic from the ruins of the Istar Empire. Zurgas es-Bregan (Male Minotaur Mariner 2/Cleric of Sargas 1 LN) – Zurgas is a sailor from a family of sailors and he grew up as a proud and proper Minotaur. Zurgas chief rival was his cousin Cinmac they competed in all things; seamanship, swordsmanship, even for the love of the beautiful Keeli. Zurgas life took a new direction the day when Cinmac betrayed him, knocking him overboard during a fierce storm in the Bay of Balifor. For hours Zurgas drifted in the storm until his great strength finally give out, at that moment he cried out to Sargas for vengeance against his traitorous cousin. Sargas granted his request for a price. The dark figure clung to a bit a flotsam as the storm tossed sea continued to rage in the fierce winter season. The figure was a minotaur, wet brown fur clung to his body robbing it of warmth, his muscles trembled in fatigue after resisting the storms efforts to drown him. Two yellowish horns sprouted from a once proud bovine face that now only showed deep weariness from the struggle to stay afloat in the storm. Zurgas es-Bregan was dead, this he knew beyond all doubt, the limits of his endurance had been reached and in a matter of moments he would sink beneath the waves. No! He would not surrender. He was a minotaur, a member of the greatest race upon Krynn. His hands clutched more tightly about the piece of ships railing that kept him afloat. His eyes drifted closed and for a time he dreamed… * * * “Zeboim’s Great Bosom, I have never seen a Storm like this!” Shouted Zurgas across the rain slick decks, as move about to secure the ship against the gale. “Of course you have. Don’t tell me you forgot that squall we ran into three years ago just outside of Mithas!” Shouted Cinmac, Zurgas’ cousin and shipmate, as he tied down Zurgas’ guard rope. “Oh, that storm! It was noth…” A sudden wave crashed across the deck of ship and Zurgas words were washed away along with him. Franticly he clutched at the rope that secured him to mainmast of the ship, but he felt it snap and he was washed overboard. His hand brushed against something hard and Zurgas desperately grabbed a hold of it. It was the ship’s railing and it creaked ominously as the water receded and his full weight came to bear on it. “Cinmac!” Zurgas shouted. In the twilight of the afternoon storm could see his cousin slowly make his way to railing where Zurgas clung. “Cinmac grab my hand.” Cinmac reached the rail and only looked down on his cousin, his expression was twisted in rage. “Keeli is mine!” he shouted, “You will never have her!” Zurgas expression twisted in confusion and then anger as his cousin words began to register. Of course, Cinmac and he competed in all things but none more fiercely then for the love of Keeli. And now Cinmac was going to take the opportunity to rid himself of his chief rival. Zurgas features twisted into a rage at his cousin’s betrayal even as he could do nothing as Cinmac’s hoof kicked the railing, shattering the wood and sending Zurgas into the tumbling seas. * * * A wave of bitter seawater struck Zurgas in the face waking him and brought him back to reality. His strength failing he cursed his treacherous cousin. “Sargas take you, Cinmac!” Sargas, God of Vengeance, chief deity of the minotaurs, yes, the god had returned six months ago, his constellation once again floating in the night sky. Perhaps he would give me vengeance. “Sargas!” Shouted Zurgas into the storm with his last breath. “Grant me your dark vengeance on Cimac, and I will forever be your creature. Make me a spear to drink the life’s blood from vile cousin and I will serve you always! This I vow upon my Honor!” Shaking his fist at the grey sky Zurgas slipped from his railing and sunk beneath the waves too tired to fight against the storm any longer. * * * Zurgas found himself in a world of grays. The gray ground blended seamlessly into the gray sky above. Gray, barren trees dotted the hilly landscape, a cold gray wind blew across the gray plain. “I am dead.” Thought Zurgas. “NOT YET SON OF MITHAS.” Where, once before there was nothing, Zurgas found himself standing before a throne of black basalt. Four full-grown minotaurs could have sit comfortably in the chair, their hooves dangling 8 feet from the ground. Upon the massive throne sat a gigantic black minotaur his golden horns jutting from his brow each longer then Zurgas was tall. Clad in black robes, the figure was armored, its breastplate depicting a condor made of flames with eyes like rubies the size of his fist. It could only be one person. “My Lord!” exclaimed Zurgas kneeling before his god. “YOU HAVE CALLED OUT TO ME ZURGAS, DECENDANT OF BREGAN. ARE YOU PREPARED TO UPHOLD YOUR VOW AND PLEDGE YOURSELF TO MY SERVICE?” “My Lord, upon my Honor I am yours!” Spoke Zurgas firmly, awe still in his voice. “GOOD, THEN VEGEANCE SHALL BE YOURS, YOUR COUSIN CINMAC WILL DIE AT YOUR HAND, BUT YOU MUST DOING SOMETHING FOR ME FIRST.” “Name it My Lord and it will be done.” “THE GOD CHEMOSH SEEKS TO PLACE HIMSELF ABOVE ME, THIS CAN NOT BE PERMITTIED. EVEN NOW HIS MINIONS SEEK A POWERFUL ARTIFACT FROM THE AGE OF DREAMS, ONE WITH THE POWER TO BRING LIVING DEATH TO ALL, SEEK OUT THIS ARTIFACT AND DESTORY IT BEFORE CHEMOSH AND HIS TOADIES CAN USE IT. “Where can I find this artifact My Lord? How will I recognize it?” “I WILL SEND YOU TO THOSE WHO CAN HELP YOU FIND IT, JOURNY WITH THEM AND THEY WILL LEAD YOU TO IT. LOOK FOR A HUMAN SKULL MADE OF OBSIDIAN. IT IS THIS OBJECT YOU MUST DESTORY. “My Lord it shall be done.” “GOOD! TAKE THIS SYMBOL AND REMEMBER YOUR PLEDGE TO ME.” With that Sargas pulled the flaming condor from his breastplate and tossed it to Zurgas. As the holy symbol flew through the air it began to shrink until it comfortably landed in Zurgas’ palm. Made from the same black metal as the god’s armor, it was shaped like a diving condor made of flame, claws out stretched to grab its prey. Zurgas lifted the medallion and hung it around his neck by its chain. “ CALL UPON MY AID AND YOU SHALL HAVE IT. GO NOW, AND DO NOT FAIL ME!” At those ominous words waves of gray water came crashing over Zurgas and swept him away into darkness. * * * “We’ve searched this beach a hundred times, why are we here again?” grumbled Turk, his dark green eyes following the surging of the waves lapping against the shore. Sand dunes on his left stretched away from water until they reached the broken crags that separated coast from desert. The western shores of the Bay of Balifor were the edge of a region called Khur. Here desert nomads fought a never-ending battle of survival between the Ogre nation of Blöde to their south, the Knights of Nereka to the northeast, and the swirling sand of the parched desert in their midst. Sitting on the edge of providences that once belonged to Holy Istar, people of Khur continued to eke out their lives amid the sandy ruins of that long extinct empire. “We are here my friend because this afternoon’s storm may have washed any number of things ashore, perhaps even objects that date back to Istar. “ replied Turk’s companion, the elf Kardanon. Turk’s only response was to grunt. The pair were the most unlikely of companions. Turk was a half-ogre, his mother having been raped by ogre raiders on one for their numerous excursions into Khur. He had been lucky enough to inherit the better characteristics of his parents. His father’s size and strength and his mother’s looks and intelligence combined to make him appear nothing more then a particularly large human, though a discerning eye would be able to recognize his ogre blood. Kardanon on the other hand was an elf from the Silvanesti nation in the south, a people known for their self-righteous arrogance and isolationist ways. Few Silvanesti elves would associate with non-elves and none would ever be friends with an ogre. Kardanon though had lived a hard life, exiled by his people for his study of forbidden magic, he quickly learned that most non-elves were no different from most elves, some, in fact were much more pleasant. “Turk!” a ringing high-pitched shout floated down from further up the beach its source lost in the darkening sky of the evening. “Turk! Kardanon! I found something. You gotta come see!” “Blasted Kender! He’s probably just found another jelly fish washed up in the storm or some brightly colored bit of shell.” Groused Turk. “I’m not too sure.” Mused Kardanon. “I’m continually surprised by our kender friend’s knack for finding interesting objects.” Turk snorted “He told me one of his tales once about kender knights in far away Hylo called Finders, who other kender hire to “find” their lost possessions. Of course they usually just find something more interesting then the owner’s previous possession, which makes the kender just as happy. Bah Kender knights! I don’t believe it!” Kardanon only smiled, his mirth not quite reaching his eyes. Kender were the eternal innocents of Krynn, managing to annoy all those around them with their child-like antics, except perhaps other kender. So intense was their curiosity that most kender would rush into a dragon’s lair when more sensible folk wouldn’t. And their ideas of ownership were ambiguous as well, with other’s possessions often ending up in the kender’s pouches for “safe keeping”. Turk and Kardanon walked down the beach to the encouraging sounds of their kender companion. Suddenly out of the evening gloom the blond topknot of Arlie Nimblefoot, hoopak in hand, appeared startling Turk. “Blast it you fuzz-brained Kender, you jump out of the dark like that again and I’ll turn you insideout!” swore Turk. “Ooo, could you really do that Turk? Turn me inside out, I mean. I wonder what it would be like? Could I see my own heart beating you think?” squeaked Arlie in his child-like voice. “Shush you, just forget what I said, what have you found? It better not be another blasted piece of driftwood shaped like a goat’s nose or I’ll…” “Quiet.” Hissed Kardanon. “What’s that ahead?” “Oh, That’s what I found, come see. I think it’s a…” “Shirak!” with a spoken word of magic, Kardanon summoned a small glowing light that hovered about at his shoulder. The magical light shone out through the gloom to reveal a dark mass lying in the surf just ahead of the trio.” “Sirrion’s Breath, is that?” gasped Turk. “Yes, it’s a minotaur.” Spoke Kardanon his tone suddenly distant. “He’s still alive too. And I found him” piped up Arlie proud to share his discovery with his friends.