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LCC - Global Storyline Summary

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LCC - Global Storyline Summary

Postby AK_Brickster » Sun Jul 14, 2013 10:47 pm

For those of you who are just joining the LCC, I thought it would be helpful to put a summary together of the Global Storyline so far.
I will add to this as more elements of the story are developed.
If you'd like to read the sections in their entirety, complete with pictures, the links for each "chapter" are provided for your convenience.


As we begin our story of the Land of Roawia, we find a country divided between four factions: The faction of Garheim in the northern realm, Lenfald in the forested central lands, Loreos in the southern deserts, and a hodgepodge of independent outlaw barons and bandits scattered throughout the lands, though mostly concentrated in the swamps and mysterious islands of the deep south.
For a more comprehensive history of Roawia, please read the official lore, which can be found here:
As explained in the lore, the king of Roawia is mainly a figurehead, although his presence has, for now, kept hostilities between the factions in check.

Global Challenge I - THE ROYAL FEAST

With tension growing between the factions and the number of outlaw raids increasing, rumors of war travel on whispers throughout the lands.

Vexed by this state of tension, the King has summoned representatives from each of the three factions to announce a day of feasting and celebration. To the far reaches of the realm he has dispatched wagons brimming with food and ale, which he hopes will help put the smallfolk at ease and win him favor among the nobles.

However, the roads of Roawia are treacherous, and some of the wagons have already found their way into outlaw hands. Perhaps some of the outlaws will do some celebrating of their own!


Long ago, a king by the name of Karlamac ruled Roawia. His rule was just and fair, but also one of the sword. Roawia was still a young unity, and many rebellions and brigands still needed to be crushed. The sword that King Karlamac wielded into many battles imposed fear on all his enemies, and lifted the spirits of all who were his allies.

Some say that the sword was given to the King by the gods themselves, and that it had true supernatural powers, but there was also a catch: The sword could only be possessed by the one to whom it is given by its previous owner. Anyone else who has tried to wield this weapon has often had its mythical powers fail them at a most crucial time.

Duke Wirklich Nervig of Lenfald, the most recent owner of the sword, fearing its power, hid it in a remote location for safe keeping. Unable to produce an heir, he failed to disclose its location before his death, and the sword has been lost for nearly 100 years now. Since its master never gifted it to a successor, the power of the sword is believed to belong to anyone who can find it. Many treasure-seekers and those who yearn to utilize the powerful weapon still search for it to this day, but it may never be found, for it is rumored that the Duke left many false clues and planted counterfeit swords throughout the land in the hope that the sword would remain hidden forever. There are questions that perhaps none can answer about it. Where is it hidden and what does it look like? Does it still posses the magic that once made it the most powerful weapon in Roawia?

In his continuing effort to unite the land, the King has offered a handsome reward for anyone who can procure the true sword and will turn it over to him. He plans to use it to squash the outlaws in the south, as the Loreesi and Lenfels have been encountering fierce resistance despite their best efforts. Of course the outlaws, hearing this news, are eager to locate the sword for themselves. Some would sell out for the treasure reward, but others with greater aspirations see it as a way to seize the power for their own dubious uses.

Who will prevail? Will the sword be returned to the King, or will it be used for a power-grab?
(A Loreesi merchant by the name of Thomas Arrowford was able to locate the sword. However, the sword’s powers seem to have faded due to years of non-use, and it is now nothing more than a decorative relic hanging on his wall)


For years, the lawful rulers of Roawia tolerated the use of magic on islands isolated off of the eastern shores because the Lands were divided and we were on the brink of internal war. Now, with mutual treaties bringing the factions closer together, the King of Roawia has decided that it is time to finally cleanse the world of the vile and dangerous practices of sorcery! Together, we can rid our lands of their filth!

Join together, Lenfel, Garhim and Loreesi, and we will vanquish this evil once and for all!


Prince Jarius of Loreos stormed into the agreed-upon meeting place, fuming at the lack of support in the latest battle. The Loreesi had gone forward with the attack, expecting reinforcements from their Lenfald and Garheim allies, but had been mowed down and slaughtered when none came to their aid against the heathen foe.
He strode up to Lord Triphian and Jhirian Eindrik. He pierced their eyes with his flaming gaze. "How is it that the Loreesi must fight alone, while their allies bask in the shade?! I lost 300 of my best knights, while you all relax!"
The Lenfel Lord replied hotly, "I remember nothing about being asked to help you fight this battle! And If you had brought more soldiers, you wouldn’t have to beg for our help so often!"
The now-infuriated prince unsheathed his sword in a flash, and it would have come to blows but for Jhirian Eindrik. Silent until this moment, he boomed "Now this is insupportable! Stay your arm, desert prince, for you are among equals!"
Piqued, Lord Triphian yelped, "I can defend myself, thou over-bearded Garhim!"
Jhirian Eindrik did not reply, but turned a deep shade of purple and sent the Lenfel leader a smoldering glare.
Enraged, Jarius charged from camp and ordered all the remaining Loreesi troops to immediately depart from the magic isles...
The attempted purge was over as soon as it had begun.
Now more serious problems have arisen... war looms once again on the horizon of Roawia.


Mark of Falworth was finally able to complete his journey across the vast expanse of the Galaphona desert. He arrived at the capital city and proceeded to the palace of Lorean to see the Prince Jarius, who he had not seen since his return to Loreos from the Magic Isles.

Prince Lorean spoke, "I have a very important mission I would like to set you on. Do you remember when I contracted an alliance with the house of Wenseclaus to secure peace between Loreos and Lenfald?"
"Yes, I remember, But the High Lord Godfrey Wenseclaus II died not too long afterwards without an heir, there was much civil disorder as the nobles of Lenfald fought to straighten things out."
"Your statement is true, except for one facet. Godfrey Wenseclaus II did, and still does, have a legitimate heir!"
Mark took a step backwards in shock.
"What!? That is impossible! The reports from Lenfald..."
"...Are not always as truthful as they should be, Mark. This scandalous treachery is, no doubt, the work of the evil baron who tried to seize the province after the High Lord died.
The true heir was being held prisoner in a small castle to the south of Isil Oro and he just barely managed to escape some weeks ago."
"I can still hardly believe it!" Mark shook his head. "Where is the heir now?"
The prince smiled. "In the hallway waiting for me to call him in."

The prince rang a bell and the door at the end of the hall opened, and a tiny lad of about eleven-years-old skipped towards them.
"Mark, allow me to present Lord Chartres Wenseclaus, the true heir to the province of Lenfald.”

The prince continued. "I intend to try to reestablish young Chartres to his rightful place on the throne of Lenfald."
"A wise move, Uncle. Such a step would greatly damage the reputation and the cause of the ridiculous imp Triphian."
"Indeed, but I am certain that Triphian, having ruled Lenfald for some time, will not give up his title and position to one younger then himself. So we Loreesi must be the force of justice. And I intend to put my best man at the front of this planned restoration."
Mark's puzzled expression allowed the prince to continue.
"Yes, Mark. As one of my most warlike and powerful vassals you are a perfect choice for the job."
"I will gladly serve in any way you need me to, Uncle. But could you be more specific? "
"You will take charge of young Chartres, train him in warlike exercises, and lead a substantial force into Lenfald in an attempt to restore him, the true ruler, to the people of that province. A third of the army of Loreos will be at your disposal, that combined with your own extensive forces should be ample for anything you might choose to accomplish."
"I could not refuse such a glorious mission! Thank you, Prince Jarius!"
"You are entirely welcome, Mark! I am glad to have such a weighty matter off my mind, now that I know everything humanly possible will be done. Godspeed."
And with that the prince returned to his throne.

Mark of Falworth turned to little Chartres. "Well, lad, it seems we have much work to do."
"Indeed, Lord Falworth! I hope we shall be successful!" Chartres smiled beneath his freckles.
"I believe we shall. But first... we must find you a good suit of armor." Mark winked.

Global Challenge IV – AND SO IT BEGINS…

Swiftly, and with cat-like reflexes the shadowy figure leaped across the rooftops. He looked across the street and saw several other figures going the same way. The great castle loomed over them like some sort of stone beast, waiting to strike them down.

They arrived at the great wall and with ease threw ropes attached to grappling hooks on the battlements. They knew no guards would be there for several minutes, more then enough for them to enter the castle.

They topped the wall and arrived at the keep without so much as breaking a sweat and proceeded to follow their way to their target. Silently their feet ran the stairs up in to the great tower. Two guards came in their way, and two guards where left in a small niche, dead, without so much as making a sound.
Now came the hard part, if one would call it that. One of his brothers threw a small knive, planting it just below the ear, killing the guard in front of the door immediately.

The door was locked, but with a little metal rod he opened it with a sot click. They entered the room, but not quietly enough...
A longsword came at them, which they avoided just barely. He drew his blade and sliced the neck of the man trying to kill them. The King struggled and grabbed his cloak, but died soon after. Their mission was accomplished and yet another target was victim to the their blades. They opened the window and tied one of their ropes to the bed, with a knot they could easily untie from the other end. As swiftly as they came, they were gone again, leaving hardly a trace that they were there to begin with, except for the corpses of those they had slain.

The captain of the guard rushed in the room and saw the King in a puddle of blood, with his son and members of the court around him. The atmosphere was riddled with sorrow and mourning and he was startled. How, in the name of the gods could this have happened? How did they bypass the guards and get in here so quickly? Surely magic had to be involved in this matter. A retribution from the purging of the Magic Isles perhaps? No, that would be impossible so soon after.
He walked over to the body and inspected it. He discovered a small piece of cloth in the hand of the King, not bigger than a fingernail. It was of fine quality, with threads of silver woven into it. He knew this fabric, for he had seen it before during his travels through the southern deserts. There he had encountered a group of warriors, renowned for their stealth tactics and their many ways of killing men. There was no doubt in his mind when he whispered one simple word, silencing every man and woman in the chamber....


And so it has finally come to this. The spark to light the powderkeg in Roawia. War is upon us. Choose your side!


The ocean spray was thick in the air as two figures and a small group of Illion Knights (an elite group of Lenfel warriors) met in a secluded section of the Southern Lenfel coast.

The meeting was one of utter secrecy, so the small party walked toward the edge of the sea cliff where they would not be overheard over the crackling spray of the ocean by anyone who attempted to eavesdrop. The knights of Ilion turned to face Lokitan and the stranger.

"I admit, I am intrigued," said the captain of the company, "Why is it that we were asked to meet with you esteemed sirs?"

Lokitan smiled and replied, "Highlord Triphian has a mission of dire importance for us. This war has dragged on for far too long and we have suffered many losses. He feels it is time to once and for all drive the warmongering Loreesi back to the arid desert which they call a home."

"Indeed, Lenfald has suffered many casualties. We dare not risk a frontal assault or counter invasion, the Loreesi war elephants are practically invincible," The captain replied. "I presume you have a solution?"

The darkly-clad knight now spoke, "Sir, my name is Malcus, and I hail from Loreos." Interrupting the captain as he began to sputter, "Sir, before you protest, I will tell you why I am here. My mother was a Lenfel before she fell in love and moved to Loreos with my father. Her family was slaughtered during a recent Loereesi raid into Lenfel lands. I cannot idly sit by while this tyrant sheds innocent blood for his own selfish political gain."
Lokitan and I will sneak into the palace gardens of the Prince, and silently eliminate the Prince if an opportunity presents itself. I have contacts in Loreos who may be able to help us execute the plan."

"Hmph, very well.... if you are sure your information is good, you may proceed. After all, the best way to kill a snake is to cut of its head. We can provide you with a small vessel and crew to facilitate your travel into Dalmantha. Good luck."

With that, the Illion captain and his men turned to head back toward Stonewald, leaving Lokiten and the Loreesi, whose name was Malcus, to carry out their secret mission.


Under cover of darkness, the Lenfel and Loreesi commandeered a light trading vessel and set sail southwards, the travelers disguised as harmless Loreesi merchants and all arms and armor stashed away safely below the cargo of the ship.

They arrived several days later in the city of Dalmanutha, and after securely mooring the boat and packing down the weaponry for further transport, Malcus and Lokiten went strolling along the quay, looking for a quiet residence from which they could commit themselves to reconnaissance and the planning of the final details of their sinister plan.

Emerging from the limited space of a narrow side alley, Malcus made up his mind and nodded to his Lenfel companion as they passed a lone Loreesi guard. Up ahead hang a worn sign bearing a decorative painting of a horse’s head, signaling that the door beneath led to one of the multiple port-side inns where the less fortunate travelers and residents in Dalmanutha spent their time.

The place was a ramshackle, perfectly unnoticeable building, and as Lokiten caught Malcus’ eyes from the shade beneath his hood, the two compatriots quietly agreed that this was the place. Cautiously stepping over the fallen body of a lone, drunkenly mumbling sailor, the duo went up to the low wooden door of the establishment, pushed it open, and entered resolutely.

A guesthouse like this would be used to visitors with shady stories and motives, and Malcus could tell from his former experiences with the darker side of Dalmanutha that no unnecessary questions would be asked. It was an excellent place from which to fill the last remaining holes in their plot, as well as safely store their weapons until they were needed.
The morning air was crisp and clear. Prince Jarius Lorean calmly walked through the palace gardens enjoying the peace and quiet, glad for a brief respite from the duties which his position as leader of Loreos required him to perform.
The war with Lenfald had taken a harsh toll on him, though you would never know from his demeanor. He was a master of keeping up outward appearances. These daily strolls helped him gather his thoughts for the rest of the day's events.
A few yards up the path, two dark cloaked figures crouched behind a large rock, lying in wait. The reconnaissance they had obtained had been accurate. Here came the prince, alone, just as they had been told was his daily routine. Their muscles tensed as the prince drew nearer, beads of sweat gathering on their brows, despite the morning chill.

The prince appeared lost in thought and unaware of the impending threat, drawing closer to where they laid in wait with each step.
"Here he comes Malcus!" Lokiten whispered, quietly drawing his blade. "Shh! Get ready....", Malcus replied. "It's time to cut the head from the snake."

However, just as Lorean was about to reach the place where they were hiding, much to their horror, the Prince abruptly stopped as the clamorous sound of hoof beats pounding the sandy ground came to his ears. The would-be assassins winced as they saw him quickly turn to see who was approaching. They waited to see what was going on.

"Your Majesty! I bring news...!" They overheard the rider calling out as he pulled his frothing horse to an abrupt halt in front of the Prince. The rider extended a sealed letter with trembling hands. "I wonder what this be all about..." Malcus whispered, his annoyance clear. They watched and listened...
Jarius snatched the letter from the courier, irritated at being interrupted from his thoughts, but curious to see what could be so important.

As he tore open the seal and quickly scanned the contents, his eyes widened, then watered. "Mark..... captured?" he gasped.

Quickly, he gathered his wits about him, as he was never one to lose his composure, one of the traits that made him such a competent leader.

"Give me your horse, boy!" He barked at the rider, quickly mounting the still panting steed as the courier jumped off and bowed in deference to his lord.

As he took the reins, Jarius said as calmly as he could muster, "It seems that my nephew, Mark of Falworth, has been captured by a Lenfel dragon rider. Run to the barracks as fast as you can and fetch my generals. We must come up with a plan!"
The lad, who was still rubbing his saddle sores after such a hard and fast ride, nodded. "I will do as you comman..."

Jarius did not wait to hear his reply. With a quick jerk, he whirled the beast around and charged back toward the Palace, leaving the courier jogging behind to deliver his message on foot.
Wide-eyed, the two figures behind the rocks watched the Prince and courier head back up the path. They knew in that moment that their plot had failed, but they were astounded at what they had overheard. "THE Mark of Falworth, Champion of Loreos.......captured!" Malcus was grinning from ear-to-ear at his Lenfel compatriot. "Do you know what this means, man?" Lokiten said thoughtfully, "This bloody war might be over!"

And with that, the two shadowed figures made their way back to the palace wall, the guards none the wiser of the assassination attempt.


After many months of brutal fighting, Roawia is finally enjoying a state of peace, albeit a shaky one. Young Chartres has been sent north to reside in Garheim for a time, and the faction leaders are still thrashing out the final details of the peace treaty, arguing over the retribution of damages and a possible demilitarized zone between Lenfald and Loreos.

The wife of the recently deceased king, Queen Aethid, has taken temporary control of the throne until a new ruler can be found, but her limited influence is doing little to mitigate peace talk disputes. All across Roawia, the people fear that without a strong central ruler, the factions will soon fall into conflict again. They yearn for someone with the political skills and leadership required to reestablish the state of closeness which existed prior to the disastrous campaign on the magic isles and the resulting bloodshed that followed.

Rumors have begun to spread across the land; stories of a kind and benevolent ruler who can grant the peoples’ wishes. The figure being whispered about ironically hails from the magic isles, an exiled woman by the name of Galainir. It is said that she claims to be a descendent of the long-dead King Alphundus, who efficiently ruled Roawia many years ago!

Taking advantage of recent conflicts, the distractions enabling her return to the mainland, Galainir has spent the last few months gaining popularity by taking to the streets to raise support. Droves of simple peasants and laborers now flock around her, smiling and cheering, as she makes extravagant vows to mend the broken relationships of Loreos and Lenfald. The mysterious woman has gained a myriad of supporters among the soldiers as well, as her promises of peace appeal to their war-weary hearts. With the end of the Lenfel-Loresii conflict, the only subject now heard spoken in the taverns recently has been speculation on when she will be crowned Queen!

The factional rulers, however, are less inclined to believe her claims of legitimacy. Despite their ongoing differences, they have agreed that she must prove herself to be of royal descent, or be cast back into exile. At the peak of her popularity, Galainir sends a messenger to them proposing that they meet with her to discuss the issue. Reluctantly, they agree to grant her an audience in the coastal Lenfel town of Durrough...


The sun rose gradually over the ocean’s horizon, casting long rainbows in the early morning mist. The Factional leaders waited anxiously at the the bow of the ship, waiting to make landfall. An hour later, they caught their first glimpse of the port of Dourrough, and as their ship sailed smoothly over the mild waves of the Great Northern Sea, it soon began to make its final course corrections as it coasted gently through the open gates of the harbor’s wooden boom. Scanning the shoreline, the Faction leaders recognized the pennants fluttering above the crowds on shore. They were the colors of none other than the Lady Galainir!
“She must really have the townspeople’s loyalty, for such a display as this!” Prince Jarius declared. Then, muttering toward Jarl Eindrick, “Those simple-minded Lenfels seem to be willing to follow just about anyone, other than Triphian, it would seem.” Lenfel’s Lord was too busy staring mouth-agape at the scene before him to notice the jab.
In a few minutes, they were alongside the pier, and the Lenfel dockhands were securing the vessel with ropes tossed ashore by the crew.

As they descended the gangplank, Galainir herself met them on the pier, escorted by her personal men-at-arms.

After exchanging traditional greetings, the four then made their way to the great stone courthouse in the center of the town. Once the town militia had set a perimeter around the building, the leaders were led by Galainir into a small room of tan sandstone, with a smooth tiled floor and a row of beautiful stained glass windows. Apparently, she had been given this area by Dourrough’s leader, Duke Cartney, as a sort of headquarters.

Once inside, Jhirian Eindrik began the meeting with his usual diplomatic proficiency. "Lady Galainir, your intentions seem sincere, and you obviously have support of the people. However, the three of us have no idea who you are or from whence you came, and we have come to regrettably inform you that the ancient laws state that the crown may only be claimed if proof of royal heritage can be made. Now, since you have no such proof we must unfor..."

"My Lord, I believe your assumption is made in haste," Galainir politely interrupted with a slight smile.
“Grimlang…” she said, motioning to her servant, who was carrying a small, ornately beaded leather pouch.
As the faction leaders looked on in astonishment, she carefully withdrew a golden chain, fastened to which was a large, beautiful golden signet ring. Unclasping the chain, she removed the ring, and presented it in outstretched hand for their inspection.

The trio gasped in amazement as they laid their eyes on the on the gleaming ornament before them. It was a large ring of solid gold, which glinted and sparkled even in the half light of the chamber. Engraved in the face of the ring, was the unmistakable seal of the King!

"Fetch any reputable historian," Galainir continued. "And he will confirm that this is the final ring of the ancient five rings of King Alphundus, four of which were distributed among his descendents. Alphundus’ ring and the three belonging to the founding fathers of Loreos, Lenfald, and Garheim have all been recovered and are currently being kept in the royal palace."
As Lorean, Triphian, and Eindrik struggled to take this all in, Galainir continued on, her confidence growing with each moment.
“The ring before you was given to Alphundus’ daughter, princess Rosethorn, before she fled the country for fear of her life from her half-brothers. They, of course, made stories up about her and even dared to blame the death of the king on her in order to keep her away forever, and they succeeded. For many generations, Rosethorn’s descendants have lived a life of lonely exile. The ring has been passed on from one generation to the next, and we have been waiting for the proper time to reveal ourselves. With the untimely death of the king, and none of you willing to allow the other to take the throne, the time seemed right for me to come forward with my story, and to give the people the leadership they deserve.”

The three Faction leaders stared in awe. Galainir was actually a legitimate heir! They had never seen such a confident, compelling, and beautiful woman. As she stood before them, flushed with the passion of a leader taking claim of her birthright, they couldn’t help but feel the same sentiments of the clamourous populace outside the walls of the courthouse. Perhaps she was indeed destined to become Queen of Roawia!

Gathering their wits about them, they began the formality of verifying the authenticity of the ring, though in their minds, there was no doubt about the validity of her story.

Within a few days, messengers returned from the royal palace. The ring was an exact match.

As they officially presented the new heir to the town of Durrough, the crowds roared in approval, and a coronation date was set. Dispatches were sent to invite all who were able to attend the coronation ceremony, and across the land, people began preparations to celebrate the crowning of their new Queen.

Global Challenge V - THE CORONATION

The Land was bustling with activity; the Lady Galainir had finally been confirmed as the true heir to he throne of Roawia! Never before had a people been so united upon a single wish, their burning desire and commitment to Galainir was ultimately the impetus for the decision of the Leaders to grant her the crown. Celebration feasts were prepared throughout the land, and as a show of thanks for their support, Galainir proclaimed that there would be a grand banquet for any and all who wished to attend. This would occur at the Royal Palace following the coronation ceremony. The leaders of the Factions were to be the guests of honor.

After much anticipation, the day of the coronation finally arrived. Droves of peasants, knights, and lords from across Roawia donned their finest garments and flocked to the palace. It was truly a spectacle to behold. There was an eye-watering assortment of vivid blues and reds, greens and yellow, and even the occasional sparkle of gold. The crowd gaped and gasped in astonishment at the myriad of lavish decorations that adorned the great hall.

Around mid-morning, everyone found their seats and the ceremony began with the trumpeting of gleaming silver horns by the Royal Guard. Galainir, looking utterly majestic and beautiful, sat at the throne as Prince Lorean presented the crown to her (it was decided that he should present, as a good-faith gesture after the speculation that Loreos was behind the assassination of the previous king).

As Galainir placed the crown on her head, she smiled at the shouts of, “Long live the Queen!” that shook the rafters of the royal hall.
The trumpets sounded off again, as the newly-crowned queen exited the hall, followed by the three faction leaders. The room became abuzz with activity, as gossiping guests filed out, and servants began to set up for the celebration banquet.

A few hours later, as the guests began to trickle in and find their seats at the long table, the Queen arrived and took her place at the head of the room, along with Triphian, Lorean, and the Jarl. It appeared that the leaders had perhaps taken it upon themselves to sample some of the wine, for Lorean and Triphian were arm in arm, chucking like a couple of old friends. The normally steady Jhirian seemed to be having an easier time holding his liquor, though even he admittedly did not walk the straightest of paths as he made his way through the crowd.
When the hubbub had finally subsided a bit, Galainir stood up to address the people. “My fellow countrymen, it is with great pleasure that I welcome you all to dine with me and our beloved leaders.” She smiled broadly as she surveyed the multitude of distinguished guests in attendance.

“Let us all enjoy ourselves, for tonight is for you, the people of this great land!” The Queen raised her glass and proclaimed, “For Roawia!”
“For Roawia!” the people chorused back, drinking deeply in salute to their beloved Queen and Country.

With that, the feast began! Waiters appeared at the mighty oaken doorway to the hall, laden with dishes of mouth-watering delight. Platters of roast venison supplied by the great huntsman of Lenfald, plates of fresh fish brought by the efficient fishermen of Garheim, and beautifully browned turkeys from the southern grasslands all filled the room with the most delightful of aromas. This truly would be a banquet to remember!
The volume of the room gradually began to rise with talk and laughter, as the people gorged themselves with food, and guzzled wine. The Queen seemed pleased to see everyone so enjoying themselves.
“You must eat, your Majesty!” declared Triphian, whilst gnawing on fat a drumstick with intense fervor.
Prince Lorean joined in, “Yes, have you tried these potatoes? Marvolish!” It was a wonder he could even give such an appraisal, as most of the potatoes seemed to be finding their way down the front of his ruby red robe. Jarl Eindrick, ever stoic, simply chuckled and poured himself another tall glass of wine.

Suddenly, the sound of barking dogs and a large clamor in the corner of the room drew everyone’s attention. Startled, the crowd looked to the source of the noise.
A moment later, the room’s tense atmosphere dissolved into a roar of uncontrollable mirth! It seemed that one of the guests had become so intoxicated that he had managed to stuff his entire head into one of the large Loressi turkeys!

Someone stumbled over to the door and cracked it open, escorting the dogs out of the room. “Are you alright, good man?” He asked on his way back to his seat. “Errm… yes, just fine!” A coarse but muffled voice came back through the side of the bird. “Just enjoying some of this delicious fowl!”
The raucous din of laughter died back down to a dull roar, as people turned their attention back to their meals, drink, and conversation.
Well on into the night, the people dined on, celebrating their new queen and the prospect of peace that her presence would ensure. A few diners began to doze, head rested on folded arms of the table, happy with food and liquor.
Near midnight, a cool breeze caused the candlelight to flicker, a second loud noise came from the far end of the room. “Goodness man, haven’t you had enough to eat!?” Eklund turned to say to the turkey-headed man in the corner. “Oh!!” He yelled, stumbling backwards in drunkenness at the sight before him.
The room suddenly fell quiet, the cool night air combining with sheer terror to give the entire attendance goose bumps. Somewhere in the room, a woman screamed.

Through the now-open doorway of the great hall, a darkly clad wizard, with over a dozen formidable-looking men were entering the room. The Royal Guards who had been guarding the entrance did not appear to be anywhere in sight, having been brutally slaughtered, the noise of the conflict drowned out by the din of the feast and the thickness of the mighty doors.

Shocked, unarmed and too drunk to fight anyway, the crowded room as a whole slunk back from the soldier’s menacing approach. All, that is, save one.....

Schmidt was having a grand time at the banquet. Never before had he enjoyed such incredible food, but the wine was otherworldly. Never one to pass up free drink, he’d had a few bottles of the stuff by this time, and as always happened with him when he drank, he was getting a bit feisty.
Like everyone else, when the doors burst open, he was caught off guard by the men storming into the room. Unlike the rest of the attendees, his reaction was not fear, but blind rage. As everyone else stepped back, he strode forward. Once he reached the edge of the crowd, he took a deep breath and bravely charged headlong toward the menacing foes, his mind set on protecting his fellow countrymen!

“FOR ROAAAWWWIIAAAA!!” He shouted, targeting the biggest, meanest-looking intruder, and sprinting forward with all his strength and speed.

Just as he was about to drive his shoulder home into the enemy, the soldier, unencumbered as Schmidt was by several pints of hard liquor, deftly stepped to the side, leaving brave Schmidt, who was expecting to make impact, suddenly off-balance and tripping headlong onto the wooden floor.
In almost the same moment, the soldier took a powerful swing, felling his sword onto the back of Schmidt’s neck, and the tussle was over even before most of the dazed crowd could process what had happened.

As Schmidt’s blood began to mix with the wine that had been spilled on the floor, the crowd parted in terror as the wizard strode straight for the queen! In a show of selfless Garhim bravery, Jarl Eindrik moved to block the wizard’s path, but a commanding voice from the throne platform froze him in his tracks. It was the voice of Galainir.

"Jarl, make way."

Turning their gaze away from the soldiers to the other end of the room, the audience gasped, many rubbing their eyes in an attempt to clear the fog of booze from their vision. There stood Queen Galainir, surprisingly clad in a dark dress and draped in a blood-red and black cape, the result of some sort of enchantment. A shadow seemed to pass over her face, masking her beauty, her eyes gleaming with a yellowish tinge.
The three Faction leaders, utterly amazed, took a step back from the woman with whom they had now seemingly too-hastily invested their trust, and the wizard strode past them, joining the new Queen on the platform.

In a dark and commanding tone, she began, “Too long have I waited for this moment! To long have I sat in the darkness, as droves of mindless buffoons ran amok across the continent! What have your leaders done to mitigate the violence? What have they done to serve their people? They are unfit to rule, as were those who came before them!
“They turned against my own ancestor, Princess Rosethorn, and banished her on nothing more than trumped up charges. My family has suffered ever since, struggling to survive on that infernal island for generations!
“Fortunately, your foolish plan to “purge” my island worked to my advantage, as I manipulated the campaign from the very start of the invasion. Sabotaging Lenfels here, Loreesi there, making sure that the three factions would blame each other for the mess. This, of course, brought on the inevitable civil war, which granted me the perfect opportunity to return from exile undetected and endear myself to all of you simple-minded fools. Rest assured, I will make you SUFFER for the crimes against my family, just as my family and I have suffered for generations!”

With that, she gestured for the guests to be taken away. Still trying to totally grasp what had happened, they stumbled out, passing Schmidt’s now lifeless body, a reminder that any resistance was futile.

The leaders, too enraged at the incredible betrayal to even find words of protest, were shackled and led off to the highest prison tower in the castle.

Galainir smirked in satisfaction as they exited, her well-laid plans coming to fruition. “Finally, I am the true leader of this land now.” she cackled, her beauty hidden behind the darkness of her intent.
“Maldrake, let’s get this place cleaned up, shall we? Those stumbling pigs have turned my new throne room into a sty!”

The wizard, known as “Maldrake the Silent”, nodded and stepped down to the main floor and began to wave his staff in circles above his head, arcs of energy coursing through the room as he did so. When the clouds of ethereal smoke had cleared, the mess had vanished, and shields adorned with snorting dragons had replaced the existing Royal Lion sigils, banners of red and black now fluttering from the rafters.

“It is time,” she began, her eyes soulless and devoid of expression, “to put the next phase of my plan into action. Send out troops to occupy every stronghold in Roawia. Make it clear that any resistance will result in the slow torture of their beloved leaders and family members. If the surrender is not immediate and complete, their loved ones will pray for death to save them.”

With that, Maldrake made a deep bow, and exited to carry out her commands.

Up in the prison tower, the rulers of Roawia could only stand and stare at each other, the alcohol and shock combining to cause the room to spin before them. What had just happened?? They could not believe how utterly deceived that they had been. They agreed that Galainir must have used a subtle spell to influence them, as well as the people. Looking around, the cell seemed to be inescapable. They had no choice but to wait to see what would happen in the coming days.

Without saying a word, they shared the same thought; Roawia would soon be plunged into darkness....


It has been many months since the evil Queen Galainir seized control of the land by capturing the leaders of Roawia at her coronation banquet. The countryside has been overrun by her minions, and the peoples of Lenfald, Loreos and Garheim have been helpless to resist, for fear of bringing harm to their beloved leaders, friends and family who remain imprisoned in the Queen’s dungeons.
Until now, all hope has seemed lost. Until now, the people have cowered and fled the Queen’s forces.

…Until now.

A coalition of forces from across Roawia has been diligently questing for a mythical sword, the Sword of Arondor; a weapon that could be used to combat the Queen and her evil master sorcerer, Maldrake the Silent. The sword is rumored to be secured in a secret vault that requires several crystals to be recovered in order to unlock it. The coalition is currently attempting to find the crystals so that the sword can be recovered and used to help free Roawia.

Prince Chartres, now a young knight, is leading the rebellion efforts from a secret camp deep within the Dark Forest of Lenfald, but the Queen’s forces are constantly hunting him, attempting to quash the rebellion before it has time to materialize. If the sword can be found soon, Chartres and his men have a plan to use it to free the hostages and remove Galainir from the throne.
Since the Queen's henchmen are on high-alert, utmost secrecy is required among local patriots who seek to overthrow her.

The time is now, while the sword is being recovered, for the people to begin gathering their resources for a full-scale uprising, to occur immediately once the sword has been attained.
Last edited by AK_Brickster on Wed Jan 01, 2014 11:01 pm, edited 6 times in total.
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary

Postby pyro guy » Tue Jul 16, 2013 9:10 pm

Very nice summary. Much better than having to hop from thread-to-thread, piecing together the story in that manner.
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary

Postby SSchmidt » Wed Jul 17, 2013 12:52 am

Very glad to have a thread with all history compiled together. This makes it much easier than thread hopping. Thanks for piecing this together AK, and thank you Kings Council for all your hard work and dedication in the LCC!
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary (ADMIN - Pls add to LCC T

Postby AK_Brickster » Thu Sep 12, 2013 7:25 pm

Updated with coronation story and added links to each chapter, in case you'd like to enjoy the fantastic pictures that go with each segment ;)

Also, the story is up to almost 6,700 words now! :woo:
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary (ADMIN - Pls add to LCC T

Postby Sir Erathor » Thu Sep 12, 2013 7:33 pm

This has been a great story, so well done all you involved! I only wish I had been part of the LCC from that first GC :)
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary (ADMIN - Pls add to LCC T

Postby royalbrickcustoms » Thu Sep 12, 2013 7:43 pm

Awesome work AK! :)

Can't wait to see how the Sword of Arondor fits in to all of this! :D
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary (ADMIN - Pls add to LCC T

Postby Aeridian » Thu Sep 12, 2013 7:56 pm

My hat's off to you AK. Thanks for taking the time to write all this up for us.
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary (ADMIN - Pls add to LCC T

Postby ForestFriend » Fri Oct 11, 2013 12:01 am

Thanks laddie. Now puts me into the story so far :D
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary (ADMIN - Pls add to LCC T

Postby mpoh98 » Fri Oct 11, 2013 5:46 pm

Many thanks AK for compiling this list! A HUGE help! :D
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary

Postby JoshWedin » Sat Oct 19, 2013 10:15 am

Good job with this, Jordan. I added it to the LCC Table of Contents.

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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary

Postby Brickninja » Thu Mar 13, 2014 8:47 am

This is great to have it all in one place. Too bad I only joined at GCVI though.... :(
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary

Postby ZacharyIslazy » Fri Mar 14, 2014 2:56 am

Brickninja wrote:This is great to have it all in one place. Too bad I only joined at GCVI though.... :(

Well I can assure you, there is much much more on the way in terms of story line developments! And even ones which members could directly affect too. :eyebrows:

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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary

Postby Sir Erathor » Fri Mar 14, 2014 5:57 am

ZacharyIslazy wrote:Well I can assure you, there is much much more on the way in terms of story line developments! And even ones which members could directly affect too. :eyebrows:

Very true, Zach. *rubs hands gleefully* :eyebrows:
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary

Postby Brickninja » Fri Mar 14, 2014 8:59 am

ZacharyIslazy wrote:
Brickninja wrote:This is great to have it all in one place. Too bad I only joined at GCVI though.... :(

Well I can assure you, there is much much more on the way in terms of story line developments! And even ones which members could directly affect too. :eyebrows:

Sounds great! I'm looking forward to it.
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Re: LCC - Global Storyline Summary

Postby Luke the Swift~ » Fri Mar 14, 2014 2:37 pm

Great job Jordan! This is really great! Should help A lot of the new LCC members be caught up!
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