Hi, it's me, Frederic Moulin. I am a Ph.D. student in Toxicology here
at Michigan State University. I have been
roll-playing for almost 15 years now, but in the last 7 or 8 years I have
had to take over the campaign in which I was playing my favorite character:
Blackfinger the assistant shaman nomad.
I learned mastering under the tutoring of Philippe Krait, at the Ecole Centrale
de Lyon. It was a cruel and merciless school (philippe must have some orcish
genes), but I enjoyed it immensely. I learned that players characters were
made to die, and that it was much better to do it in an apocalyptic and
graphical way. I (at least) had so much fun, that I decided to take over
when philippe finaly leaved the school. After that, we played on a regular
basis practically every week until I moved to the United States.
Now things are a little more complicated, but we still manage to find a
few days every year away from work, studies, family and children, and gather
to a remote place where we play all night and most of the day. After that,
we go back to our normal lives and dream about our future adventures.
The dice weighs the Fate of Sir Storm
Cound Storm started from humble origins somewhere in Pent. He felt early
in his soul the call of the Storm Bull and converted at age 15. Finding
the life of an herder pretty boring, he joined a caravane for Prax and ended
in Corflu. There, he embarqued after a night of drinking on a semi-merchand/semi-pirate
Yggien ship and spend the next few years visiting/raiding the coasts of
Genertela. With a comfortable bounty on his head, he decided to let his
enemies forget about him a little and joined a group of desperate adventurers
catching the last boat for Griffin Island.
There, his considerable abilities as a warrior and his natural leadership
skills promply made him the leader of a small band of adventurers that he
led in numerous expeditions with variable success but a fairly constant
death rate.
He finally became Knight of Nidik in thanks for his many feats of arms in
the service of the city. When the time came for the succession of the county
of Ostland, the King Skilfil choose him over other pretenders, in part to
undermine the autority of the older nobility, and in part because of the
border that the county share with the chaotic Bad Lands. Alas, in order
to gain the support of the clergy of Hilme (Yelm), Storm had to become a
lay member and swear that his first son would be educated only in the religion
of the Sun God. In a truely french tradition, he decided that the County
was worth a ceremony or two!
Entrusted with the autority of his title, Sir Storm promptly divided the
county between his adventuring companions, making them vassal knights. Unfortunatly,
he now also enjoy the privilege of having powerfull enemies outside and
within the court of Skilfil.
His ultimate goal is the economical development of his county, practically
in ruins after many years of mismanagement, wars and chaos raiding, and
eventually the building of a castle.
So far, the RM as been fairly successfull in making him spend his money
a different way...
Sir Storm is not the usual Uroxi: He is uterly dedicated to the destruction
of chaos, and will exterminate it anywhere he goes. However, his many years
of cheating death have taught him the value of a clear mind, and he hardly
ever embarque into the kind of berserk frenzy so common among the followers
of the Bull. Recently, he has become fully aware that the most twisted form
of chaotic corruption was able to evade the divine sens that mighty Stormbull
had entrusted to him. He has started a special book, in which he records
every suspicious behavior of each of his followers in the form of one or
more marks on their assigned page. He has stated that when the marks on
a page reach a certain number, he will concider that person chaotic and
kill him or her on the spot. Since Sir Storm recently started to learn writing
and reading skills, but does not master counting further than his 10 fingers,
the exact limite of the marks is left for his followers to guess.
Sir Cletor has one particularity that never fails to amaze the game master
and his fellow players: His phenomenal lack of luck! You can count on him
for fumbling in the most dramatic situations and no one can remember the
number of divine interventions that were required to prolong his career
to this point.
Born in Fronela, the young Cletor demonstred early one a remarquable aptitude
for fighting, and a natural sens of discipline. His loyalty is still almost
as famous as his ill luck. With these natural dispositions, he felt immediatly
attracted by the career of a soldier and joined at the same time the militia
of his city and the cult of Humakt. Unfortunately, an oath made to his god
prevented him for participating to any of the usual distractions of a soldier,
and he eventually got tired of being laughted at every time he order his
favorite drink: milk.
He left for a distant land, and ended up with a group of adventurer in Fonrit.
There, low money forced him to take part in an assassination attempt on
one of the local rulers. He met Mordor, a fellow humakti that similar financial
conditions had also forced to participate in the coup. Assassination being
contrary to their sens of honor, they could only be convinced to garde the
safe house where the assassins were supposed to retreat. They witnessed
how the iron jaws of Sandy Petersen's trap ("the land of Fonrit")
closed on the other players, and saved the life of the few survivors by
killing almost single-handed the assassins dispatched by their employers
to silence them all, then numerous goules, hell hounds...
During these stressfull hours, a long lasting friendship was forged between
the two humakti and Blackfinger, the Jolarian shaman. The few remaining
characters choose to embarque rapidely for the most isolated destination
they could find: Griffin Island. There, the group meet Storm and engaged
into an endless series of adventures for the next few years. Cletor also
became Knight of Nidik, and naturally followed his friend into Ostland.
Sir Cletor has recently experience considerable psychological turmoils while
arguing philosophically with a renegade priest from Nidik. His faith in
Humakt does not seems to be as fierce as it used to, and he sometime ask
very strange questions. His mental condition is closely watched by his good
friend Sir Storm!
Clelia is the only daughter of a successfull merchant of Nidik. From very early on, Clelia's main objective has been to reject or transgress every tradition concerning the position of women in the yelmite society. At only 16, she fled home and joined a group of wandering adventurers, all males and with average twice her age. From there, things went down with an amazing regularity. She came into possession of a powerfull orcish artifact named "the eye". The powers of this object greatly increased her status within the group, until her companions started noticing that her hears were sort of pointing, her canine teeth a little longer and her eyes too cat-like. The loss of the object did not reverse the physical modifications, and deep into her heart, clelia still long for her beautiful pendant. Her new physiognomy is however considered extremely attractive by trolls and orcs alike, and she is known among them as "Seed of Skorg", a mark of respect and admiration hardly shared by her parents and relatives. She took part in the ill-fated mission to Ockless with Crock "the Rat" and was charged to investigate the temple of Red-eye. Disguised as a faithfull follower, she joined the ceremony on the holy day, and after an impressive serie of bad rolls, finally fell into the central well and took a deep gulp of the blood-like substance. To the amazement of everyone, she actually emmerged with the blessing of the Great Eye, her magic powers renewed by the contact with the magical pool and her hair color changed to a magnificient reddish gold.
Storm and Clelia expecting bad news.
Yoland is the champion of the count, follower of Yelmalio and a master of the pike. Here is his autobiography:
To my peers, knight templars of Yelmalio the fruitful, from Red Fish
To my family, whose love is my lantern in the darkness of the exile
To all who serve justice and patiently improve the world handed to us by our father Yelm.
Greetings.You will find here the story of the events that transformed the son of a virtuous templar and a tolerant daughter of the red moon into the champion of the most virtuous Count of all, and the lord of a domain more fecund than the waters of the Doralistor River. May Ernalda always bless our land, and accepts the ashes of our houses as a sacrifice to her might and benevolence.
At age 15, I had learned from my beloved mother all the important skills that form the essence of our traditions: sowing the corn, raising chicken, reading and writing the imperial language, and of course mastering our secret tongue, the fire speech beautiful in its mighty simplicity. Decided to uphold the tradition of my family, it took the white robe of the sundome templars. My father was so proud of my dedication to the truth, and the virile frankness of my relationship with my companions. He used to tell me "To build a palace in the sky, you need deep roots in the earth". And my dear mother always reminded me to keep my heart pure and generous, and my mind open to the multitude of races and opinions that populate Glorantha, and be prepared to repeal the temptation of evil. After 8 years of proud and manly life in the Militia, My file leader, the light son Yelon estimated that it was time for me to test the strength of my faith and virtue against the corruption of the barbaric world. Following the tradition, I, Yolhan son of Geol from the community of Orfer-in-two-Ears, left the fertile farmland of my home country to go seek adventure and fame in the barbaric lands. Yelmalio our god teaches us that the flame of honor only glows as long as it is supplied with the oil of heroism. I quitted with regret my position in the shield push team of our temple and crossed over Carmania, moving toward the deviant cities of the West, among which Sog is certainly the most disgusting. At that time alas, despite my eagerness to bring the truth of Yelmalio to the various people I encountered, I realized that my formation was still very incomplete, and that people were mostly mocking the fervor of my faith. Certainly, some of the westerners are honorable, as for example the famous knights of the Swallow, but I grow quickly weary of their blasphemous verbiage, rejecting even the existence of our Gods and calling us pagans...
In this time of doubt and darkness, I crossed the glistening path of Sir Storm Fend Chaos, a Pentian warrior remarkable for the sincerity of his opinions and the loyal devotion to his companions. He was traveling with a barbarian Humakti that spend more time arguing like the most illuminated riddler of the red emperor than praying his god, and a woman with a radiant smile and ears such as those of the legendary Jelmre. They told me of their knightly duties to the followers of Yelm in a distant island, and I decided to join their party, happy to learn at the school of distant masters. To my great surprise, I learned upon reaching Griffin Island that my companions had become notorious, and that my new liege Lord was now in charge of a county. For opening by the strength of my arm and the rectitude of my heart the gates of his first village, the Count Storm made me his vassal and champion on the battlefield, and gave me tenure of the land. In honor of my Family, I renamed it Orfer, and started immediately the challenging task of bringing to these primitives the faith of Yelmalio and give them the strength to defend and improve their meager huts. I quickly understood that the real challenge was not to build the Photoklios (Temple of the light people) with stones, but with the heart and souls of the community. If I did not wanted to see the corruption of chaos roam again on my fief, I would have to promote education. For that reason I called upon professors from Nidik and the Elves, blessed followers of Aldrya, and concluded a treaty profitable to all parties in which they took charge of the summer education for all the children of Orfer.
Orfer, martyred village, hardly born and already destroyed will someday, I swear it, scintillates like a thousand lights and each citizen will be proud to better himself and participate to the rebirth of the phoenix.
To lead what is now my mission, my construction yard, my hope and my struggle, I need the assistance of my God, my friends and my family. I feel confident in the support of Yelmalio, and the great success achieved in the difficult mission entrusted to me by the temple of Yelm in Nidik confirms that I am indeed, blessed by the sun light. Someday, my unflinching faith will transform this little farmer's village in a glistening citadel more brilliant that all the torches of Yuthuppa.
Yolhan le Beni d'Orfer
Note From the translator: Two weeks after taking control of Orfer, the village was burned to the ground in a gigantic battle against a fire elemental lord. So far, only the village well remains standing.
Yolhan demonstrates a curious Dara Happan custom: Warpaints
made with cream cheese !
Spirit of the hare is a primitive assistant shaman.
You will find here a short description of player characters that joined
the campaign for some period of time before meeting their final demise.
May the one I forgot here still rest in peace ;-)
Krocknar "Slarge Killer"
Primitive Wotanki hunter, he gained his nickname after killing single-handed
with his javelin a great slarge in a pit fight. Unfortunately threw a torch
into a dark cave that happened to be the armory of a forgotten dwarf stronghold.
Disappeared in a gigantic fireball when the blackpowder storage exploded.
Not enough remained of him even for a positive dental identification.
Imgule the blasphemer
Civilized sorcerer from the west, he joined our group of adventurers for
mysterious reasons. His vow of always hiding his face to strangers was responsible
for numerous incidents with the local autorities, that culminated when he
started explaining to the entire nobility of Nidik during a feast that the
gods did not really exist, but were merely an invention of the priests to
control the people. His brilliante dissertation was quickly interrupted
by the high priest of Yelm. Accused of blasphemy, he was seized by his own
companions and handed over to a religious court of justice. Condamned to
burn at the stake, he made a daring escape, converted to the cult of Red
Eye and began serving the forces of darkness has a new NPC. His hate for
his former friends has not decreased a bite over the years.
Tamran
Barbarian fighter, his short career as an adventurer was ended by the sharp
sword of a slarge. I do not remember anything more about him...
Tanor "Iron skull"
Dwarf fighter, he participate to a raid into ennemy territory. Trying to
rob an orcish stronghold of Ockless's tithe, the party underestimated the
quality of the opposition and the easy robbery turned into a vicious battle.
Cornered by seven orcs into a room and separated from the group, tanor killed
four of them before being overpowered. His head decorated for some time
the main gate in Ockless.
Tanadirian
Elf shaman apprentice and herbalist, he joined the party during a mission
in the north of the island. His career was stopped somewhere in the Votank
Mountains by the crushing blow of Baltab, a half-troll in command of a raiding
orc party.
Willknow What
Primitive hunter, he died on the border in the assault of an orcish watch
tower.
Mordor
Initate of Humakt, almost sword, she was killed in the back during a romantic
stroll by the poisoned quarrel of an assassin aiming at her lover and companion
Sir Cletor. Failed her CON roll and her divine intervention. Humakt also
refused the pledge of sir Cletor, and left him with the lifeless body of
his betrothed in his arms. Her long career as a warrior was highlighted
by many amazing fights, in which she usually rolled as many criticals as
Cletor rolled fumbles.
With her also died the famous proverb: "Who sees Mordor sees
his death, Who sees Cletor sees his bless". She was burried
in Nidik with all the honors due to her rank and fame.
Crock "the Rat"
Little human thief from Nidik, he went in a secret mission to Ockless with
a few of the major characters, in an adapted version of the DoD's scenario
"The Affair of the Ancestral Ring". His total ineptitude, cowardice
and awkwardness transformed this subtle and delicate adventure into a chaotic
mayhem, ending with the death of two characters and the capture of all the
survivors. Being a kind and benevolent master, I sentenced the prisoners
to die, but with honor, as gladiators in the orcish version of the Coliseum.
Alas Crock never made it to the arena, having encountered in the way a grumpy
pet panther.
Dimres Windson
Barbarian fighter from Surlt, his body lay somewhere in the sewers of Ockless,
indirect victim of Crock the thief !
Ringfindel Ellenfea
Noble young elf, he tried to unify the various factions of the island against
a common ennemi, the orcs. His ambitions unfortunately, were not followed
by the rest of the group, more concerned about robbing graves and drinking
their loot. He left disgusted the company of the "Iron lovers"
after a heated discussion on the subject of dividing the booty, and was
never seen again.
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