This is from a D20 Modern/Future game, Traveler: The Binary Messiah, run by Wretch. The game is a sci-fi adventure set aboard a military star-ship, the Jormungandr. Copatt plays Ellen Olivia MacNamara, a civilian scientist (botanist) who is a bit out of place aboard a primarily military ship. The post below takes place aboard a troop transport ship en route to a rescue mission. Another transport, (piloted by Ellen's semi-estranged sister), is hit by a missile from a hidden launcher disguised as floating space debris.
To define a few things the post references: hobs = a physical modification to make you look like a hobbit basically ; AGC (Allied Galactic Confederation); Milo = The pilot of the transport Ellen is on as well as her semi-ex-boyfriend; Flock = Mystical and mysterious Zealots who, may or may not, have used psionic manipulation on both Ellen and Milo;
In this scene, set in the world of Eberron, our stalwart heroes have just secured a cantankerous "Ratter"kobold guide to lead them to a crypt outside of Stormreach, buried deep within the jungles of Xen'drik. The scaly little bugger isn't very happy about being sent out into the jungles again and lays into his employer before they leave. Gargleblaster's halfling bard of House Jorasco takes it upon herself to translate the kobold's fit as they travel, delivering an excellent monologue to explain the subtle nuances and context of its draconic rant.
Bards have long been a staple of any adventure, but Gargleblaster raises the bar in terms of DnD bardliness, taking trivial details and elevating them into a performance.
The party has just returned from the Irish version of the otherworld: Tir na nOg, where they faced a situation and creatures so far beyond the comprehension of mortals that the gods have mercifully cleansed the entire group's memory of their deeds. That is, all except for the bard of the group, Liam. Bards in historical Ireland were revered as much as druids, and were considered sacred for their amazing memories and knowledge. So, cursed with the memory, Liam is the only one among the group who can actually answer the High Druid Toirdhealbhach's question about what has happened during the years they were missing. (Just like Oisín.) This post is his response to the High Druid.
Mechanics-wise, Sanity rules are in play here, since every time Liam recalls his memories of the otherworld, he risks losing a piece of his mind. He failed his sanity roll and goes catatonic as a result, at the end of his recitation.
It's an excellent character post, since in it he's forced to recall his own death at the hands of a Fir Bhlog. It's also an outstanding summary of the events of the last chapter, which took us a year to complete, and must have taken a serious amount of research on Hugh's part to read through and string it all back together in the voice of his character. As always, great work Hugh!
Liam trods the path towards Druidshome beside his companions, the towering Cahal, righteous Moirne, fire-haired Ceara with her winged friend, the O'Toole brothers who stayed behind, Latharn the mysterious newcomer, and Der'Faille, his stalwart brother-in-arms. All about them the people of the town chatter and cheer, fetching drink for the Ar Leith returned. It all seems so familiar, yet at the same time Liam feels as if he is apart of it, as if one foot lands on solid ground, while the other touches down on some unseen world hidden just beneath the surface of theirs, a world crouching hidden behind his own eyes. The bard can feel his face smiling and hear him exchange small pleasantries with those who address him, but each step closer seems to draw him farther away. By the time they enter the home of the druids, the bard has stopped any attempts at pleasantries, his silver tongue turned to lead in his mouth.
Quote:
"Welcome! Welcome to the Ar Leith of the Dal Riada! You have succeeded and it is very good to have you back!" the old man says. "But tell us, where have you been for these many months? Brocc O'Toole has many times told the story of the battle with the giants, and of sundown over Cloichegorm. But none of us know the rest of it. What has kept you my good lads? We have much to catch up!"
Liam looks up at Toirdhealbhach, and realizes how vigorous the man has become, as if he had aged backwards. Perhaps he had, but Liam's attention is suddenly snapped to the beautiful young druidess who stands beside him, a flowering maple beside a gnarled oak. Her eyes gaze out upon the assembled Ar Leith, taking each one at measure, and then her gaze locks upon Liam's. The bard regards her in wonder, and for a moment he feels himself being drawn back into memories not dark and obscure, but bright and exciting. Bláthnaid Mac Tire, daughter of Cron Mac Tire, sister to Fionn and Fial Mac Tire Her presence triggers a hard thump in his chest, and the bard looks down at himself almost in astonishment. Looking up, her attention has moved on, while Cahal begin's to speak for them all.
Quote:
"Well, we took care of Gobán after he turned black. Den killed da heifer, which took us ta da lands b'yond. From der we..." It is here that the man's voice falters, trying to recall what occurred clearly. "...we faced challenges dat we o'ercame. Unfortunately da lands b'yond 're 'ard ta recall. Musta been too sacred fer our minds ta understand."
"It's a lean tale mo chara tells, but is as much truth as there is to be told. We've not a memory of what happened between us. That is, none have said else-wise."
Liam turns at the sound of his friend's voices, and regards them in wonder. They truly remember nothing he thinks. He watches as Cahal raises his hand to his face and then suddenly jerks it away, his face a sudden blur of fear and surprise. Liam winces as well, for he too remembers. His vision begins to darken, as his memories begin to creep out from the corners of his eyes and let themselves be seen in all their horror.
The horrible giant eye of the Naga stretches wide and a terrible gout of flame flings the giant man like some child's rag doll. Liam hears his cries of pain and rushes over to behold Cahal's black charred skin, blood welling from his mouth and his ears and wounds too numerous to count. The bard tries desperately to keep him alive, to not let him become like himself was, a pale shade drifting through the land beyond the gates. All around them the great beast thrashes, like a mountain coming alive, and he knows. He knows at that moment that it was pointless, that all his friends were going to die.
Die... he is watching himself fighting the Fir Bhlog, as if he were floating just a wee bit off, and he watches the horrid giant stab its spear through his shield, through his chest and out through his back. He hears the sickening crunch of bone being torn, and watches himself as he falls dead and lifeless on the sand.
His face blank and eyes wandering, like watching things unseen, the bard's mouth opens and he begins to speak without even realizing, his consciousness somewhere else. The words do not ring loud, but the bard continues methodically, and all must fall silent and strain their ears to pick up his words. All must quiet and listen, for he is telling their tale.
"....we were on the sands of the hill, giants roaring about us and threatening murder with their spears. Giant stones greater than a man's head came crashing down. We fought them, stabbing their hard, fat neckless bodies with our weapons. Then a giant most ugly, his strength immense, drove his spear through my shield, through my chest and through my heart, and there I died.
The others found me in the line of the dead, waiting with the foes we slew for our turn to enter the gates of Tir Na nÓg. How came they to the Borderlands that stretch endless dark I do not know, but find me they did. Though the lands beyond are no homes for mortals, and the hunger fell upon them. Aye, the great and noble Ar Leith, tearing at their stomachs and snatching bread from their brothers' and sisters' hands. They found me, as others found them.
The flesh-eaters, the ones that succumbed to their hunger. The ghouls that roam the Borderlands beyond the gates, howling and ravenous, their hunger endless. They came upon us but were struck down. Though dead would we have been, were it not for the white wolf. The hunter of the outlands, it bit the biters, ate the eaters, and led us to the stranger with no-face, waiting in his hall of blank stone and shadows. He welcomed us, his Guests from the Lands of Blood, and bid us cast silence once more and free his home from the wailing of the hungry who roam far from the realm of Goibnu. He would have us make the dead-walkers die, by waking the guardians. The Great Sisters, the Snake Creatures, the Naga.
We accepted the faceless stranger's task, and set out to wake the Naga. Across vast distances we marched, over cliffs and waterfalls. We swam through seas unfathomably dark and deep, filled with brooding creatures waiting to suck traveler's down into the depths. To an island we came, ringed about with a towering wall. We followed the music, the song of sleep, and found the Fir Bhlog once more, the black piper of Goibnu. It wove its magic song, it swung its giant sword, it howled curses at us in its guttural tongue and invoked ancient law. But we slew the piper, and his song fell silent.
We searched for the beast, the Naga, and found it beneath our feet and all about us. The wall, the earth, its giant head looming like a barrow-hill, a beast the size of a mountain! The singer dead in his sleep-song gone, it opened its great eyes and therefrom burst fire and death, laying waste. Sliab-Dhor made flesh it was, terrible and huge it rose upon us. All seemed lost, all were to die.
But we were saved. By the gods we were saved. A shining star appeared and halted time itself. It bore us up and over the terrible dark lands, swifter than thought, and rushing toward us opened the gates to the Land of Youth. This is why the Ar Leith were called, to thwart the plans of Goibnu's minions, to carry out tasks Divine Ones forbid themselves to undertake. We were welcomed across the gates of Tir Na nÓg, to pass through the portal from death to life, beckoned by the gods with a warm summer breeze."
Liam's voice draws quiet towards the end, and as his lips finally fall close, it seems as though time has halted for the bard as well. He stands, listless and staring, his face soft and reposed as if he were no longer there.
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Did you watch He-Man cartoons in the 80s? Masters of the Universe (game here) is currently looking for one new player. Send me a PM if interested.
Nominating Fading Echo's post- originally appeared here, but that's a private thread. I'm sure a Mod can verify that it really was there. Re-published here.
Some background; the evil villain (a genocidal emperor, thought to be long dead) in this campaign has a lethal assassin to do his bidding. Gabriella appears human, but is something else- not quite sure what. Anyway, she's been kept alive through items for over a thousand years, and she has a magical/psionic book that allows her to retain her memories over such a long lifespan by reliving them for her as she sleeps.
She had a disagreement with the evil villain recently, and the party has convinced her to step aside so that they can destroy him. She dropped her special book as she left us, a signal that she was abandoning her past and starting life anew. Being the curious type, my character cracked the special book one evening...
04-02-2012, 11:59 AM
; AGC (Allied Galactic Confederation); Milo = The pilot of the transport Ellen is on as well as her semi-ex-boyfriend; Flock = Mystical and mysterious Zealots who, may or may not, have used psionic manipulation on both Ellen and Milo; 
