Bloodmaiden

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dergon darkhelm
Fionn In Disguise
Posts: 4258
Joined: Fri Jul 08, 2005 1:21 pm
Location: Cleveland, Ohio, United States

Bloodmaiden

Post by dergon darkhelm »

The deep mines below Ironmaster, Frozenfar, Northwest Faerun, 1 year ago:

“Huuzah!”

A cry went out among the dwarves of the battle party as the last duergar fell. Dunam Craganvil stood bloodied and bruised but smiled as he threw his arms over the shoulder of his cousins Jont and Tragnar. They had been tracking the gray dwarf raiders for many days and now 6 lie dead while the dwarves of Ironmaster had suffered no casualties. The battle had been bloody and this day the Lady of the Fray had had delivered a powerful victory.

It was just one skirmish in the ongoing war that had been being fought between the dwarves and the duergar for over a decade.

Dunam of Clan Craganvil was the youngest in the party, taking part in only his third battle. He was to support and fight with Kaxanar Layala Ashenforge. The Bloodmaiden of Inronmaster, her breastplate and holy symbol ritualistically covered in the blood of her enemies, strode over to Dunam and let out a great hearty laugh.

“Well done, young Dunam. You have the Lady’s eye upon you. I suppose this means it is time.”

Dunam Craganvil arched a brow but had no chance to formulate a response before the Kaxanar abruptly walked off, attending to the wounded and other details.”

“Time for what?” the young dwarf asked to no one in particular.

_________________________________________________________________________________________
Ironmaster Armory & Temple of Haela Brightaxe, 2 rides later:

“Enter, Dunam Craganvil!” Most things spoken by Kaxanar Ashenforge sounded like an excited exclamation, a call to action, even just a simple welcome to enter a room.

“You have learned much. Your blade grows strong. And it is time.” The Bloodmaiden continued.
“You will leave Ironmaster with naught but the greatsword of your father and the clothes on your back. Haela Brightaxe will guide you to glorious battle. Your path will be long travelled. You shall defeat many foes and raise the glory of your kin as you bathe in the blood of your enemies…..

“But it will not be among you kin nor even here in the north. You will sail south this very day.”
“You will make allies of the hurm and heng. You will fight in strange and foreign lands alongside those who understand not your faith nor the dwar. Strange will be things you see. Strange will be the allies you make.”

“Now go.”

And so, leaving behind all but his sword, including his heavy plated armor, Dunam Craganvil set out on trail to Fireshear where he boarded a ship bound south along the Sword Coast.

___________________________________________________________________________________________
A trail outside of Beregost, present day:

Dunam Craganvil knew he had taken a head wound. He was flat on his back. His mind reeled foggily. Even the shallowest breath was agony. He had cracked many ribs apparently.

His sword!

The dwarf’s first instinct was to reach for the big to handed blade, but his arm seemed bent at an impossible angle and pinned beneath his own bodyweight.

The goblins. Dunam coughed. Was he a prisoner? Slowly the memory returned. He felled one, but at least six other started hailing him with arrows and swarmed him as his strength faltered. Perhaps he was dead?
His own blood was matted thick in his hair and beard. One eye was swollen shut, but the other slowly opened and came into focus.

A human with long black hair was touching his shoulder. She spoke lightly with a strange accent in the common tongue. “Yes. He lives.”

She was speaking to a companion. Dunam’s vision finally cleared as he saw a huge orc-blood also lean over him. “Dwarf man wake now, Reiha. Arok strong. Goblins no match for Arok. You heal dwarf.”

Dunam felt the healing magical energy enter his body and his mind and vision started to clear. He coughed up a thick clot of blood from his lungs and struggled to a seated position. His situation now clear.
He had been saved by a hurm woman and a half-blood orc.

“You walk with us now. Not safe here,” the big orcblood name Arok spoke, pulling Dunam to his feet. “We got to the village now. Dwarf will rest.”
Dunam Craganvil walked in silence as the last of the fog cleared from his mind. As he trudged along the words of the Kaxanar repeated in his head:

“Strange will be things you see. Strange will be the allies you make.”

Strange indeed.
PCs: NWN1: Trailyn "Wayfarer" Krast, Nashkel hayseed

NWN2: ??

gsid: merado_1
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