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

[Loran]

Azhur remained silent, standing behind among his own followers Othor, SwordSinger and Aarolin.
He looked again at the barbarian rebel, wondering on the strange compulsion that pushed the followers of the Knowing God to wear beards… It was well known in Loskalm that this god was only a Mostal’s son, an other sorcerer like Worlath and Ehilm, who had taken an independent divine power during the mythic ages before the first dawn. Could it be possible that all these faithful barbarians were mimicking dwarves in a try to look closer to the distorted image of their pagan god?
 
With a reprobatory glance, he calmed Othor’s lecherous smile when Karala suggested to dance nude among the standing stones. The western men remained then still, stern and waiting, hiding their impressions behind an unmoved mask.
 
Loran
 
----- Message d'origine ----
De : Dougie <dougiepunk at gmail.com>
À : HeroQuest Glorantha <ignorance at mimesisrpg.com>
Envoyé le : Vendredi, 22 Août 2008, 18h29mn 07s
Objet : Re: [HQ Ignorance] Scene 69: The Wild Temple


On the journey up through the huge, legend shrouded Dragon Pass, Karala took it upon herself to nurse the wounded Durulz using her shamanic healing skills.

Upon arrival at the fabled Wild Temple she went around  introducing herself and talking to the various non-human peoples there (Beautiful, Inspire Others, Inspire Love). 

To the Telmori she gives news of the West and how their brethren there managed to side-step the Curse and side with humanity against Evil. She emphasises that the future of all those who would oppose evil lies in helping each other. She shows Wilcairtha'a Axe as proof of her tale and a sigh of her honour.

Ultimately, she reveals, that she has decided that the true key to defeating the Curse of the Telmori lies in them facing their own Darkness and siding with those who would save the world...

Karala would like to spend a night or two dancing naked amongst the stones...

OOC: Hi guys - sorry I've been out of the flow for a while - lots of stuff going down - should be better now...

Dougie

-:).




2008/7/30 Lev Lafayette <lev at mimesisrpg.com>

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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