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Let the adventure continue!

~Michael A. Joosten - Gaming Moderator~

L-12 Castle Dracul Area

Picking up it’s hammer, he ran after Valric. “Wait up! I’m not letting you get all the fun.”

Theodore deflected a blow from a megablox warrior and retaliated with a fatal counter thrust.. Panting, he ran after Valric who was cutting his way over to the megablox captain. After several minutes, it became clear that the two knights were going to butcher the entire attack force.

Roaring something foul in a strange alien language, the captain waved his soldiers back. Valric and Theodore stood alone, amidst the dozen dead megablox warriors. The entire battle took less then five minutes…

“Well that was fun!” Laughed Valric, slapping Theodore on the back, knocking the wind out of him. “It’s good to be on the battle field again, I’m real tired of this whole place, I say we march right up to Castle Dracul and end this whole thing!”

Theodore wiped the foul sludge like blood off his sword. “Yes, I suppose we could do that. Spending monthes in this hole can’t be good for anyone.”

“Let’s go see how Midark’s doing, Darkold and Rodney should be joining us anytime now. With the five of us together, we can kill anything!” Laughed Valric to the sky.

“Yes, we do all make a good force, too bad those cowardly villagers didn’t help us.” Muttered Theodore, watching the demons vanish into the silent forest.

“Yeah, I say we should have a real good long talk with them. Theres like a hundred of them and every single one of them would have probley been killed by this tyco twenty man group. Maybe it’s a good thing the Fright Knights aren’t at war with anyone. Besides themselves.” Theodore nodded in agreement.

The two friends turned around to walk back to the village. There was just one problem, it was on fire. “It looks like the tyco shiftybrickers were just a diversion!” Scowled Theodore.

The battle with the first group of megablox warriors had carried them hundreds of yards out of the small tightly packed village. It looked like they wouldn’t save very many. The brave few who ventured outside to catch a glimpse of the fight had been torn apart by dozens of megablox warriors. “
Crikey! I don’t think the two of us are gonna cut it this time!” Growled Theodore as he was mobbed by a group of demons.

“Bah! Their armour and weapons break so easily!” Replied Valric as he shattered a shield.

This time they got help, as the villagers began fleeing the place in a blind panic, the few dressed in the livery of Count Dracul ran to help the two embattled knights.
“I’ll go find Midark!” Shouted Valric over the clash of weapons. He made his way over to the inn. Before he could kick the door in, a horrible roar almost brought him to his knees. Something blotted out the sky above.

“Holy Wood Duck on a stick!” Gasped Valric.

A gigantic dragon, the largest he’d ever seen, was flying straight at him. It wasn’t like the regular one’s he was used to seeing in Dametreos. The span of one of these thing’s wings was just as large. Riding on it’s back were a pair of megablox warriors. The overgrown lizard sent a blast of ABS roasting flames over the village rooftops. Three buildings including the inn, began to melt from the intense heat.

Coughing and spluttering, Theodore made his way to where Valric lay. “Get up man! There’s too many of them, we have to get out of here!”

“I think you’re tyco right.” Grumbled Valric.

The two slightly singed knights were able to escape easily. The billowing smoke and the intense heat of the burning village drove all the combatants away from it. The two knights took shelter in a nearby grove of trees. The two were forced to sit there for an hour.

The warband of megablox soldiers, numbering around sixty were inspecting every inch of the ruined village. The two knights would have made a break for it, but the strange demonic dragon soared overhead. By noon, the warband had vanished back into the forest, from whence it came.

The two knights ran back down to smouldering ruins, looking for survivors. “Midark! Mid-ark! Get out here, ye tyco shiftybrick!” Shouted Valric, smashing his way through the rubble.

“It’s no use.” Muttered Theodore. “If there were any survivors, those demons killed them.”

“No!” Retorted Valric angrily. “I haven’t abandoned a friend yet.” He began tearing up the ruins of the inn, swearing an inaudable string of curses under his breath.

“Hey might not even be dead!” Shouted Theodore, Valric was making a loud racket. “We didn’t see him die, even if he did, he’s probley ash! There’s nothing we can do.”

Valric sighed and dusted himself off, “right. I know he’s not dead, after the battle in Castle Dracul, I know he could have made it out.” Valric began to walk off.

“Where are you going?” Muttered Theodore in exashaberation.

“To Castle Dracul.” Said Valric simply. “All these monsters and that all appeared at Castle Dracul. I’m going to end this, once and for all.” He looked back at the burn’t village “and I’m not going to let another innocent get hurt either.”

Formendacil wrote:"Hmm..." said Hans, "do you think we could find some treats and go candy-gathering, too?"

"I doubt it," said Cate. "We're all a head and shoulders over the kids doing it. We're adults now, Hans."

"Pity," said Adrian. "Because I still do some very childish things."

"Like play with blocks?" said Hans, with a grin.

"Yeah, something like that," said Adrian.

Cate rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as they sought out an inn.

Grid: M-5
Location: Approaching Jewel Reef

The coastal city of Jewel Reef certainly looked the worse for wear since the invasion of the Ikrosians, but slowly it was recovering. The wooden palisade was whole and upright, but the smell of soot still hung in the air. And Hans, Cate and Adrian couldn’t help but notice a mound of dirt that was no doubt a mass grave. A mass grave for the Ikrosians who had fallen here. The fallen Dark Foresters had been laid to rest in the city’s sanctuary, certainly a much more dignified place to rest for eternity.

“I still don’t see,” said Hans, “Why the tyco the Ikrosians invaded here! The great and noble nation…”

“Well, according to the locals,” said Adrian, “These Ikrosians weren’t so noble. Nor great. They used brute force and scheming tricks to take Jewel Reef. And a lot can happen in nine hundreds years.”

“Like, totally.”

It took little trouble to get into Jewel Reef, but once at the docks, the trio encountered a problem.

“No ships to Fell Isle?” repeated Adrian, squinting at the balding dockmaster.

“Not for a week.” replied the man, “Been a slump in ships since the tyco Ikrosians.”

Hans, Adrian and Cate turned away in disappointment.

“A week.” moaned Hans, “What are we going to do around here for a week?”

“Well…” said Cate slowly, “That man only said there are no ships scheduled to go to Fell Isle.”

“You point being?”

“Well…” said Cate slyly, “Perhaps we could charter a ship.”

“We certainly have the cash to do so.” said Hans, shifting his pack. Most of his and Adrian’s wares stuffed into their over-sized backpacks were bags of Classic coins.

“C’mon!” said Cate, bouncing off down the dock, “Let’s find us a ship!”

“Wait up!” yelled Adrian, “Us porters can’t run like you…”

Cate didn’t listen. She dashed ahead, leaving Hans and Adrian, both grumbling, to trudge along behind. When they had caught up, they found Cate already in a deep discussion with a slightly-shorter-than-average man, with a bushy red beard and an eye patch.

“Boys,” she said, “This is Captain Jacques Broadside. He’s willing to sail us to Fell Isle for 50 cobbles each!”

Adrian and Hans didn’t vocally object to the price. It was, after all, Cate’s money. Captain Broadside stuck out a hand.

“Pleased to meet both of ye, sirs. This’n be my ship, the Bombardier!”

Adrian straightened. His face was deadpan.

“Pleased to meet you.”

Adrian shook Broadside’s hand, then Hans did.

“Well then,” said Broadside, “Lemme welcome ye aboard!”

Captain Broadside gallantly led Cate up the gangplank of the Bombardier, Adrian and Hans trailing behind. Hans nudged Adrian.

“Wassup? That dude sounds like a Crusader. Where’s all your patriotic fervor? Or do you only get that way with dirt?”

“That Broadside,” said Adrian, grinding his teeth, “Is a criminal.”

Hans stopped dead. They were on the ship.

“What??”

“He’s a traitor and a pirate.” said Adrian, “He preys upon merchant vessels and such. The Crusaders loath him.”

“But he’s a Crusader, or at least sounds like one.”

“That’s the point.” snapped Adrian, not keeping his eyes off Broadside, who was now boisterously bragged to Cate about the Bombardier, “He’s a turncoat. Once was in the Crusader Navy, then turned tail and started pirating left and right. The worst of it is, he does it under the Crusader flag. He gives the Crusaders a bad name.”

“Not cool.” said Hans worriedly, “Let’s get Cate and go, then.”

But at that moment a clunk sounded from behind Hans and Adrian. They turned around. The gangplank had been pulled up. Cate had already paid. Captain Broadside had already given the order to set sail.

Hans looked at Adrian.

“That’s not good.”

Adrian sighed. The Bombardier was already sailing out of Jewel Reef harbor.

“This is so not good.” said Hans.

“This is so Cate’s fault.” growled Adrian.

Grid: Q-18
Location: Envika Sorgodh

Vækadær was in a fine mood. Del Grakken had successfully broken Elbadar from his regiment, while keeping more than half of it intact. He was, even at that moment, enroute to mainland Dragonar to rebuild the regiment up to full strength. After his failed attempt to remove Elbadar at the Emperor's ball, Vækadær was pleased to see his plans for the Dragon Master regiment working out.

What was more, he had just received word from Drazzuil that he had landed to south of Envika Sorgodh, and was marching to the castle with Marcellinus E'terriole as his captive.

And, finally, Bartavlo was to make his weekly report at any time. The week before, he had said that he was close on the trail of Count Ollero's last relatives: Arnulf Fredrick Valenti, and his family.

At the proscribed time, Vækadær went to his crystal, and waited for Bartavlo to initiate the telaharm. As soon as the batlord's face appeared in the crystal, Vækadær knew he had succeeded, the smug look of success on Bartavlo's face being unmistakeable.

"You were successful." It was a statement on Vækadær's part, rather than a question.

"Indeed we were," reported Bartavlo. "I've found Arnulf Fredrick Valenti and his family- no doubt about that. They went to ground in the Iadoraz Freeport only a few weeks ago. It seems that one of our men in Falconis City was clumsy, and they learned of your search for them. However, their presence in the Freeport is easily confirmed. Do you want them apprehended or killed?"

"No," said Vækadær, "leave them to me. I have waited too long to see the end of that family to let it be botched. I will go myself. I have business enough in Iadoraz, in any event. Drazzuil is returning, in any case. He can hold Envika Sorgodh well enough."

"Yes, milord," said Bartavlo.

"In the meantime, I wish you to reinvigorate your search for the papers of Augustus Alexander Smith. Once Valenti and his family have been taken care of, I will be ready for them."

"Yes, milord," said Bartavlo. "Is that everything?"

"For the time," said Vækadær. "You have done well, Bartavlo."

As soon as Bartavlo's face had disappeared from the crystal, Vækadær immediately drafted a message to be sent to Opal.

I am once again in need of your valuable assistance....

Grid: E-7
Location: Iadoraz Freeport

It was dusk and it was chilly. The sky was gray and the cobble stones of Iadoraz were slick with damp. Rain was coming. Not a fast, driving, driving downpour, no. Nor a quiet, steady, peaceful rain. This was the North Coast. Rain came in gasps, in spurts, smearing the countryside with wetness before stopping, pausing, then raining again. Between the bouts of rain the clouds remains, a dull, light, boring gray, or else they slipped away, allowing a quick strip tease of sun to slip through. But always the clouds returned, bringing more smears of rain.

Down the streets of the city Iadoraz, hoping to avoid the rains, scuttled a person of a rather peculiar nature. He would remind anyone who saw him of a rat. An old, patched, skulking rat who had come close to being some puss’s side dish too many times. He had a toothy mouth, though most of his teeth were broken or rotten or both. His fingernails were long and jagged and caked with dirt and other elements best not thought about. His back was hunched, and his clothes were nothing more than tatters. No one could have known they were once a convict’s garb.

Even if anyone would have noticed such a fact, it would have caused nary a stir in the city of Iadoraz Freeport. Of all the Black Falcon cities in Dametreos, it was easily the most corrupt, despicable establishment. The city thrived on slave trading, smuggling, trafficking, prostitution, murder, maiming, corruption, money laundering, assassination, and spying. Every after the Black Falcon Reformation and the rise of Queen Helen to the throne, Iadoraz remained it’s disgusting self. The simple matter was Iadoraz was a thorn that would not leave, and the Black Falcons were loath to admit that they, the supposedly second most powerful nation in Dametreos, did not have the will and manpower to clean out the blight that was Iadoraz.

And so, protected in the atmosphere of deceit, this rat-like-man scrabbled through the streets. But he was not in luck (which he never was). It began to smear rain.

“Bugging tyco buggers!” muttered the man, who only went my the name Goff.

He quickened his pace. He needed to reach the Baron. He had urgent news.

Grid: C-3
Location: Emberlain Castle

Formendacil wrote:"But what about my daughter?" asked Lord Edmond, "are you just going to leave her for that time?"

"At least we're going to rescue her in the end," said Sir Dractor coldly. "It's not as if you hadn't mentally abandoned here completely anyway."

Once again, everyone stepped back...

Sir Dractor had not forgiven Lord Edmond precisely, but he soon cooled down, and set to work on the task at hand, planning the attack to kill the dragon and rescue Estella.

It was decided that the party going up Mt. Greybeard would include Sir Dractor, Thomas, William Jorgenson, Sir Yves, and two of the other outlaws.

"We need to draw the dragon out of the cave," said Sir Dractor. "In the close quarters of the cave things are far too dangerous for us. What kind of bait can we set up?"

"As far as I know, the dragon has the only thing that he really wants for the moment," said Sir Yves, "Estella."

"Don't dragons want treasure?" asked Thomas. "Isn't that why they go around burning villages and castles?"

"The lad is right," said William. "The dragon has sifted through the village in search of gold and the like."

"I doubt if the dragon would come out of his cave if we yelled down that we had some treasure," said Sir Yves. "And he's not too likely to come out except to eat in the next year or so. And we can't count on him doing that regularly, what with draconian metabolisms seeming to have no cycles or patterns."

"What about his own treasure?" asked Sir Dractor. "Surely the dragon has a bit of a hoard. How would it be if we stole something from that?"

"It would certainly have him out the cave in a hurry," said Sir Yves.

"So, you be thinking that one or two of us ought to go in, while the great lizard is snoring, nick something big and shiny, and then get the tyco out of there, and wait for him outside the cave?" asked Jorgenson.

"It seems like a reasonable plan to me," said Sir Dractor. "But I'd also like a person or two to go back into the cave and fetch Estella during the battle- just in case things don't go quite right."

Grid: N-5
Location: At sea, in the Fell Strait.

Lord_Of_The_LEGO wrote:“That’s not good.”

Adrian sighed. The Bombardier was already sailing out of Jewel Reef harbor.

“This is so not good.” said Hans.

“This is so Cate’s fault.” growled Adrian.

They were now belowdecks, a few hours out from Jewel Reef. Cate, having heard the tail end of the boys' conversation, demanded to know:

"What's my fault?"

Redfaced, they had given her a retelling of their conversation.

"And just how is this MY fault, Master Adrian?" she demanded to know. "I didn't hear YOU saying anything to me then about not chartering the ship."

"What, was I supposed to say something to the effect of 'he's a pirate' right there in front of him?" asked Adrian.

"I'm sure you could have been subtle about it," said Cate. "Anyway, what do we do now? We've already paid him. Swim back to shore and cut our losses?"

"Not a good idea," said Hans, looking out a porthole. "I can't see the shore anymore."

"Besides," said Adrian. "I can't swim. I swim like a rock."

"Pumice floats," said Hans impishly.

"Then it's got one up on me," said Adrian. "Cause I can't even do that. I can swim in one direction: straight down."

"Well, I couldn't swim to shore from here anyway," said Hans. "I'm a good enough swimmer, but not a great one. Cate could probably do it, though."

"So I noticed," said Adrian. "Back at Siclent Villa. You take to water like a fish, Cate."

"Thanks," said Cate, smiling.

"So, I guess we're stuck on board 'till we arrive on the Fell Isle," said Hans.

"I guess so," said Adrian, with a sigh. "Still, as long as we don't run into any other Crusaders, I suppose it'll be manageable."

They ate dinner, went to bed, and the first thing that they heard the next morning, rudely awakening them was the call of:

"Navy vessel to the port bow, Captain! She's flying King Robert's colours, right enough!"

"Oh no," groaned Adrian. "Not a Crusader naval vessel!"

Writer’s note: Well, this is it...the posts and storyline that I’ve been building up to for the past two months really begin here, with the revelations of the past. I originally planned this to be one HUGE post, but I realised that would take far too long to finish, and I'm behind by two months already, so I’m going to post it in several medium-sized segments. As for the plotline itself, I’ve scanned through the Lost Stars Chronicle, and picked up quite a bit of interesting stuff from it. I hope that all this information is correct, but there’s bound to be errors and loopholes here and there, so if you spot any, please PM me. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this story, and the rest of the plot...

Timeline note: Due to a lack of time, I have left this plot stagnant for far too long, and thus I need to catch up on current events within the roleplay, so here’s a brief timeline of how this storyline has gone so far...

July 30: Solesstorn, Jaythus, Viktor and Santis leave Orion through the sewers.

August 3: They set up camp in the LEGOland hills. Solesstorn confronts Vermicus in the water mirror.

August 4: They are attacked by Ork Wolfriders. They survive the fight and head to the nearby inn with two Westerners, Storm and Mikelen. They spend roughly two weeks at the inn.

August 19: Solesstorn returns to the inn, and talks with them of the past, in the post I've quoted. Thus, this following post is set on August 19. I will work on catching up lost time in my next posts.


Now for the post itself:

Solesstorn took a deep breath, and then spoke.

“Well then, it seems you’ve all gotten lucky, because now is the time when I will tell you...







...everything.”

Grid: K-10
Location: The Dancing Tom Cat Inn

A heavy silence entered the room. Everyone fell into their own thoughts, and no-one seemed particularly eager to speak up. The only noise was the autumn winds outside, and someone downstairs laughing. Finally, though, Santis Rufusclaw coughed, then spoke.

“Everything, you say? Like why we’re out here, who you are...”

“Everything.” Solesstorn repeated resolutely. “Down to the last letter. All that concerns you and indeed this entire realm you hear now. It will be a long, long time though, so I suggest you settle down. Have you got anything to eat?”

“Santis brought breakfast up a little while ago.” said Jaythus.

“Good. Now, pull up a chair, and get comfortable. I have a story to tell...”

The five Knights’ Kingdomers sat down at a broad table, completely silent, out of respect for the Wizard before them. Mikelen passed out some food, which everyone took eagerly, awaiting the Wizard to speak. Several seconds passed, before Solesstorn started to speak in a deep voice; a far-away look entering his eyes.

“This is a long, involved, tale that began long before the factions and countries that you see around us existed. Back then, the world was a very different place. Elves and dwarves were more common, for one thing, and lived side by side humans. Magic was also wielded openly by many. Now, the people that use magic – whether they are evil or good – are persecuted and mistrusted by others, as the recent case of Lord Void’s ousting will show.

“But one thing was not different in Dametreos, or in any other part of the world, for that matter: Good and Evil still clashed, in every way and place possible. The world was very chaotic back then – hundreds and hundreds of years ago. As I said, magic was widespread back then, and many of the world’s great leaders and rulers were mages themselves. Just like the present, some of these sorcerers were good, whilst others were evil, and they often fought with each other. The world was ina sort of uproar-factions and leaders rose suddenly to power, only to fall back forgotten into the shadows just as rapidly.

“At about this time, I was only a young man fleeing my homeland, for a reason I shan’t discuss here. With me went a boy called Orlan.”

Jaythus gasped. Everyone else in the room went blank.

“What? Do you mean THE Orlan?” Viktor whispered.

“Yes...he was my brother.” came the Wizard's solemn reply.

The End of An Era...

Willem Blackcloak, leader of all the Wolfpack, slowly turned his dagger over in his hand. He was sitting in his rooms in the Daggerfall Spire, still the capital of the Wolfpack. Too much blood had been spilt in Daggerfall Spire, and too much evil still lurked there, some said. Demonic forces had left their mark. One day, perhaps, Willem would lead the skittish Wolfpack back to their capital and reclaim it. But that day was not yet near. As many as could be convinced had been returned to Daggerfall. But much of the city still sat disused and derelict.

But now was not a time to reflect on the tortuous era that the Wolfpack had just gone through. It was time, instead, to look at what had been accomplished. In his six months since regaining the Wolfpack throne, Willem had rebuilt the shattered Kingdom. The various factions had come to peace with eachother, and the Citadel was remarkably free of intrigue - at least, for the capital of the Kingdom. Of course, some jealous nobles plotted, but they had little support. Willem had established himself as a just, wise, and, above all, stable ruler.

Relations with the other kingdoms had at last been mended. Any instability still existing among the other kingdoms had very little to do with the Wolfpack. After a year and a half of famously excessive and sadistic violence, the Wolfpack had returned to an era of peace.

Graygon, Willem's steadfast ally and companion, now ranked second only to Willem in the Wolfpack hierarchy. Lord Graygon, too, was well liked and safe from intrigue. Willem guessed that the bloodbath had whetted every nobles' appetite for treason.

Willem rose from his chair, and walked over to the bookshelf. Selecting a large, surprisingly dust-free, tome from the shelf, he walked back over to his desk. He set the book down on the table - the title read The Misfits of Dametreos. He opened the book at the last page. The ink on the last page was still somewhat fresh, having been written only days ago.

After pondering for a long moment, he dipped his quill into the inkwell. In long, smooth strokes, he wrote And they lived happily ever after....

A lone tear trickled down his cheek. Memories of companions gained and lost, allies gained and lost, and friendship forever his flooded through his mind.

He closed the book, placed it gently back on the shelf, blew out his candle, and walked slowly out of the room. His Kingdom awaited him.

Grid: C-3
Location: Emberlain Castle

Formendacil wrote:"So, you be thinking that one or two of us ought to go in, while the great lizard is snoring, nick something big and shiny, and then get the tyco out of there, and wait for him outside the cave?" asked Jorgenson.

"It seems like a reasonable plan to me," said Sir Dractor. "But I'd also like a person or two to go back into the cave and fetch Estella during the battle- just in case things don't go quite right."

They set out for Mt. Greybeard the next day, departing from Emberlain Castle in the early morning hours. Lord Edmond was there to see them off.

"I apologise for my rash words of yesterday," he said, "and for my rash actions. Chodan be with you today, and may you recover my dear daughter."

"That's the plan," said Thomas. "I'm sure we'll do our best."

"I hope so," said the Baron. "I hope so..."

They set off in the early morning light, following the sure guide of William Jorgenson.

"The dragon'll likely be holed up in his cave for a few days," said William. "He likes to rest after a major confrontation, and he's probably going to want to keep an eye on Estella for the first little bit. It's going to take something rather valuable indeed to drag him out of his cave."

"He's a dragon," said Sir Yves, "I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"Have you decided yet who you want to fetch you that little trinket?" asked William. "Seems to me that they'll need the most courage but have to do the least amount of work."

"Two people would be enough," said Sir Dractor. "We'll need as many as possible in battle."

"Why not only send one in then?" said Sir Yves.

"As Master Jorgenson said," replied Sir Dractor, "it's going to take a lot of courage to go into the dragon's lair. It'll be easier if there's two of them."

"I'll be one," volunteered Thomas. "As long as there is another."

Sir Dractor frowned. He plainly didn't care for Thomas going down into the cave, but he had no reasonable excuse not to let him. And he couldn't be the other, since as the bearer of the Dragonwrath, he needed to stay with the ambushing group.

"I'll go with you," said William. "I'm not going to be upstaged by a young pup like you."

Sir Dractor thanked him, and they continued on.

"Another thing," said William, after a while. "We're going to want to go in when the dragon's asleep, if possible. I'm hoping that the sounds of sleeping will reverberate up the cave walls..."

"And if he's not asleep?" asked Sir Yves.

"Then we wait until he is."

Formendacil wrote:They ate dinner, went to bed, and the first thing that they heard the next morning, rudely awakening them was the call of:

"Navy vessel to the port bow, Captain! She's flying King Robert's colours, right enough!"

"Oh no," groaned Adrian. "Not a Crusader naval vessel!"

Grid: O-6
Location: Fell Sea

Hans sat up too fast in his hammock. It rolled, and he toppled to the wooden deck.

“Ouch!” he swore.

“Just our tyco luck…” Adrian was saying, pulling on his trousers.

“What’s going to happen now?” demanded Cate, slipping out of her hammock delicately.

“What else?” snapped Adrian, fastening his belt, “Battle!”

“Ooh!” Hans stood up, “Sweetness!”

“Sweetness?” Adrian gaped, “You can’t be serious, Hans! Do you really want us three -- two teenage scholars and a rich heiress in the middle of a sea battle?”

“Do we have a choice?” said Hans, “We can’t swim out of this…”

“ALL HANDS ON DECK!” bellowed Captain Broadside, topside.

“Does that mean us?” said Cate. She was now looking worried.

“Don’t worry.” said Adrian, “The Crusaders won’t harm a woman.”

“Yeah!” said Hans gallantly, reaching for the nearest weapon -- a crowbar, “We’ll protect you!”

Together, the trio ascended above deck. Captain Broadside was at the help, his face pale.

“I’m afraid, ma’am,” he said, “That we’ll be having to take a quick detour.”

“What? But we need to reach Fell Isle!” cried Cate.

“We’ve got a bloody Crusader vessel on out tails.” said Broadside, as if that explained it.

Adrian squinted into the morning fog.

“I don’t see anything.”

“I don’t either…” said Hans.

“She’s out there.” said Broadside in an undertone, “Watchmen spotted ‘er in break of fog….curses…”

“You know Adrian…this is kinda like the Misfits.” said Hans, still looking out into the fog, “You know, when Reno had been kidnapped and the rest of them, on the Shadow, was seeking out Burtrand Storm-Rider…”

“Yeah…” said Adrian, “There they were…Bjarn, Willem, Graygon, Drakko and Aros -- Barbod had already floated off to attack the Crusaders -- searching, searching…and then --”

“Wham!” interrupted Hans, slapping his hands together, “The Shadow and the Hornet collided!”

At that moment Cate screamed and Broadside swore as something black loomed out of the fog.

“Ship off the starboard bow! Brace!”

Everyone on deck were tossed down as the prow of the Crusader ship smashed into the broadside of the Bombardier.

“We’ve been broadsided!” sword Broadside, the irony not escaping anyone.

“Dude.” said Hans, “That was, like, prophetic, what we just said…”

“Fine.” snapped Adrian, “I prophesize we will all escape harm and get to Fell Isle with little damage as possible. Now let that come true!”

“Okay…”

Hans stood up gallantly (perhaps a better would be foolishly) and cried, “Arg! Pass over a cutlass, will ya?”

The pirates looked at him for a moment, amused, before turning back to their more pressing problem: the other Crusader ship. The two ships had separated now and were floating listlessly apart. Both ships and crew seemed a little stunned by the blow, but neither ships had been mortally damaged. Broadside knew this, and he knew that since the Bombardier wasn’t sinking, he had a fighting chance.

Almost as in response to Hans, the pirate captain bellowed, “Arm ev’ry last man on board! Prepare for boarding! Hold ‘em back! Send ‘em overboard!”

Instantly weapon racks were looted. Hans found himself holding what he requested - a cutlass. Adrian had a battleaxe and Cate a vicious-looking grabbling hook with a length of rope. Hans looked at his weapon. It had old bloodstains on it.

“Holy tyco.” he murmured.

Adrian dropped his axe.

“I’m a megablocks scholar from Tols.” he cried, “How the buildit did I get myself involved in a sea battle onboard a pirate ship!”

He turned on Hans and Cate.

“This is you two’s fault!”

Hans and Cate were prevented from a vehement denial by a sudden whiz. The Crusader marines were firing crossbows. Hans, Adrian and Cate screamed. They were all the same, high pitch.

“Here they come!” bellowed Broadside.

The Crusaders began to swing and leap from their ship to the Bombardier. The clash of blades filled the air as the pirates and Crusaders engaged. Soon men were dead, dying and wounded.

“This is not so good…” whispered Hans. He was very pale.

“We’ve got to get outta here…” said Adrian. He, too, was pale.

Cate was also pale, but she was staring intensely at the grabbling hook in her hands.

“C’mon.” she said suddenly.

She raced up the stairs to the poop deck. Hans and Adrian looked at one another and followed, Hans still holding the cutlass.

“Either of you have a decent throwing arm?” she said quickly.

They can’t been noticed yet by either battling party yet -- but it wouldn’t be long before they had.

“I can’t aim to save my life.” said Hans, “Though I can throw a decent pitch.”

“Good aim, okay distance.” said Adrian.

“Fine, then, Adrian,” rushed Cate, “Throw this over there!”

Adrian took the hook.

“What, to the other Crusader ship?”

“Just throw it!”

Adrian did, underhanded. The hook went high but not far -- it caught in the rigging of the Crusader ship.

“Ooh, nice!” cried Hans. Suddenly he was all swashbuckling again, “Let’s go!”

“At the same time?” said Adrian, eyeing the rope, “I don’t think --”

At that moment, a pirate -- who apparently had forgotten the trio had paid for passage on the Bombardier -- charged them, wielding a bloody saber.

“Arg!”

Cate shrieked, Adrian yelled and Hans swore -- and all grabbed the rope. And as a tangled mass they swung out over the water, screaming. The tumbled onto the deck of the ship, at were at once surrounded by stern-looking Crusaders. Hans, his spectacles crooked, looked at them and groaned.

“To paraphrase a cliché -- Out of the fire and into the frying pan. Methinks this is your cue, Adrian…”

Sir Kohran wrote:“What? Do you mean THE Orlan?” Viktor whispered.

“Yes...he was my brother.” came the Wizard's solemn reply.

Grid: K-10
Location: The Dancing Tom Cat Inn
Date: August 19, 2005

There was a long silence. Then Viktor said,

"The Orlan was you brother?"

Solesstorn nodded.

"Yes."

Jaythus said slowly, "But that makes you...really old."

Solesstorn.

"Exactly."

"Really, really old." pressed Jaythus.

"Indeed."

"That's not possible!" burst out Santis.

Solesstorn looked at Santis solumly.

"It is. I shall explain."

K-14 Kinopokar

"What have you got there?" he asked carefully.

Gyrioss went white.

“Oh nothing brother, nothing really important.” Stuttered Gyrioss, who didn’t have time to think of a better line.

Pyriuss shrugged, he had enough problems of his own not to be worrying about what his brother was doing. But that was the problem.

“Well, I have to prepare for this tyco mission, then I have to go see those cleric’s at midnight. Being seeing you I guess.”

Gyrioss, still as white as a corpse nodded. Sighing, Pyriuss went off to make preparations. Suddenly, the dismal hallways seemed alittle darker. Once he got to a smaller warroom, a captian gave him a half fast briefing and shoved him on his way. They had given him a five man squad of shadow knights to assist him in his mission. Pyriuss wanted to open up that parchment right then and there but the thought of the Vindicator finding out stopped him in his tracks. He decided he would open it on the road.

The rest of the day was a blurr. Pyriuss must have only said one word to Gyrioss the entire time. Then when the time came, a ruff n’ buff armoured knight came to escort him. Pyriuss left him in the dust and made his way to the temple as fast as he could, he wanted this ordeal over and done with.

The Shadow Cult’s temple was a marvel of brick construction. It was a massive cavern like chamber, pillared alcoves surrounded the altar, topped of with a giant scorpian. Pyriuss gazed in wonder at the high domed ceiling far above. He began to wonder what caused the light shining through it, even as high as it was, it was still several floors below ground level.

A dozen black and crimson clad men with hidden faces knelt below the altar, chanting in some unknown tongue. Following the instructions of a cleric, frighteningly similar to the Vindicator, Pyriuss stripped off his armour and shirt.

Two of the clerics forced him on his knees, even if Pyriuss could run away, he doubted he could break the iron grip of the two. The clerics crowded around him, their strange chanted getting louder by the second. Several of the clerics were fumbling with something on the altar. Getting a good idea of what it was, Pyriuss closed his eyes and waited for it to be over. One cleric made hand signs that seemed to cause the air of around them to become wavy. Feeling light headed, Pyriuss looked around trembling, it seemed the very shadows themselves were closing in around them.

One cleric grabbed his right hand and began chanting. Another cleric returned from the altar with a chalice in his hands. He poured the things contents all over Pyriuss’s hand. He gasped as the boiling hot red liquid seared his flesh.

Gasping, the clerics let him go. “What the bloo-“

He stopped and looked down to see that his burnt hand was untouched, th only place where there was any scarring was a jagged scorpian shaped symbol on his palm.

“You have the blessing of the shadow.” Said one cleric, switching back to common.

Muttering, Pyriuss got his things and left. In the morning he would be putting this place and his brother behind him…

Lord Of The LEGO wrote:"That's not possible!" burst out Santis.

Solesstorn looked at Santis solumly.

"It is. I shall explain."

Grid: K-10
Location: The Dancing Tom Cat Inn
Date: August 19, 2005

Solesstorn chose his next words slowly and carefully.

"Orlan himself...no longer exists, as you know. As you also know, he died over a millenium ago, and alongside that there were the two or three centuries or so that we spent as together as...well, normal humans. So I am probably about a milenium and half years old. Aside from old Voolmark, possibly Daner, and maybe Him, I am probably the oldest being in this land."

Storm and Jaythus both let their mouths go slack. Both Santis and Viktor seemed dumbstruck; as soldiers they were used to practical things, and so ideas like long life weren't easy for them to grasp. Mikelen frowned, trying to work out how the man could live that long and not grow a beard.

In the stunned silence that followed, Santis dumbly motioned for Solesstorn to continue.

“After months of sailing, we found and stayed on the mage school of F'Rekkah Atoll for a year, learning the basics of magic from the teachers there. We were happy for a while there, but after a terrible incident we were forced out, left to wander the great expanse of the oceans in our little boat, with only a few Elves from the forests of Heinolltor to accompany us.

“After months of futile sailing, we finally stumbled across land. As chance would have it, that land turned out to be the same one we’re in now: Dametreos. We gave thanks to the fates, and sailed into the shallows for a closer look at the shoreline.

“However, our ship was suddenly attacked by warriors riding black dragons. They bore down on us, their talons tearing the sails apart. I barely managed to teleport my brother and I from the ship as it, alongside our Elven friends was sunk by dragon fire.

“With our Elven guides dead, my brother and I didn’t know where to go or what to do. We were stranded in a foreign land, Dametreos, with dragon riders hunting us. All we knew about the realm was that it had fallen under a great darkness.

“Then we came across a strange man eating at a campfire in the woods. He had a monkey resting on his shoulder. He seemed to be a wizard. He greeted us kindly, and told us his name: Daneris Plutos, or just Daner Pluto, for short. He shared his food with us as he told us what was going on in Dametreos.

"Years before, Dametreos was inhabited by small groups of humans, who had made some settlements on the mainland. Their main leader was a cunning man named Nikos Dametreos, who was a magic-user, of course. The realm was named ‘Dametreos’s land’, but after several generations it simply became known as Dametreos. Gradually, the settlers became bolder, and established villages and towns across the map, expanding into several basic factions.

“But an evil force had polluted Dametreos, a monster of a man, who was known as Lord Inion the Terrible – and rightly so. I don’t know where he came from, or if he was serving a higher, darker power, but what was certain was that he planned to rule Dametreos for all time. He formed his own clan, made up of a breed of fierce and hardy men from the Moawbi Desert, who could control and tame the dragons.

"As time passed, these warriors became known as the Dragon Masters, though the 'correct' term was the Inion clan. Lord Inion and his Dragon Masters ruled from a place of darkness called Castle Carreg, commonly known as the Fire-Breathing Fortress. Lord Inion the Terrible and his twisted plots would long bring ruin to the land and become the bane of the civilized peoples."

Solesstorn spat the last sentence with disgust.

Sir Kohran wrote:"As time passed, these warriors became known as the Dragon Masters, though the 'correct' term was the Inion clan. Lord Inion and his Dragon Masters ruled from a place of darkness called Castle Carreg, commonly known as the Fire-Breathing Fortress. Lord Inion the Terrible and his twisted plots would long bring ruin to the land and become the bane of the civilized peoples."

Solesstorn spat the last sentence with disgust.

Grid: K-10
Location: The Dancing Tom Cat Inn
Date: August 19, 2005

"Wait a moment." said Viktor suddenly, "Where do the Classics figure in all this? Weren't they the first Faction?"

Solesstorn nodded, though he seemed annoyed at the diversion.

"Yes. The Classic LEGOlanders are credited with forming the first official Dametreosian faction. However, all this I have just told you occurred many years before Khal the Conqueror and the forming of the factions. One could even claim that the Dragon Masters, Forestmen and Fright Knights are older than the Classics themselves, because the ancestors of those three factions were either natives of Dametreos or the earliest migrants.

But I am getting distracted..."