Of Time and Distance

His ‘friends’ having gone off without him, Vogir takes the time to study the items he’d bought the previous morning.
A pair of magical boots.
A pair of magical gloves.
A magical fireplace in a box.
A magical Longbow…
Vogir pulls the linen string taught and strokes the smooth wood.
‘A Longbow of enhanced range’ was how the trader described it.
It’s a fine bow.
Finer than his Grandfather’s.
Vogir remembered coveting that bow but, despite his Grandfather loving it, it had gone the way of everything else.
Sold to pay off the Dragon’s tax collectors of Redford.
It’s funny how things have changed.
This bow…
Greater than his Grandfather’s, had been ridiculously cheap.
Commonplace almost.
His Grandfather had found just one magical bow in all his years adventuring and here, Vogir had found a superior one, in the market place of a Dwarven town no less.
A Dwarven town!
A place where every inhabitant was too short to even use it!
The ‘change’ had happened before he was born though. The rift that the Dragon had opened to allow her armies into Fissa, also let in the magical energies from the other realms. Demonic, Fairy and untold others.
Magic was more apparent, yet now somehow less… magical.

Not Afraid of the Shadows

Harvak closed the door behind him and stopped for a second, holding the candle into the room. He looked around the room which was illuminated only by the slowly flickering flame in his hand. 'You are getting paranoid, old dwarf' he thought to himself. Nobody could get into his private chambers without digging though tons of rock or half his guards! He went towards the rack where his ceremonial armour was hanging. What could the prince want? It had surely chosen a peculiar moment for his visit to Gilderock. Maybe the old fool just wanted to steal some of the laurels for opening the pass!
Harvak took off his battle armour and stopped again mid-movement to look towards the far corner. The shadow seemed darker than usual. Laughing at his fears, he announced "Hey shadow, I'm not afraid of you!"

"Sometimes you should be"

There was a perfect silence in the room for a while. Harvak stared hard into the corner but still could not make out anything unusual.
"Shadows can't speak. Identify yourself!"
"Shadows also don't have names!"
Clearly a female voice, he was sure. But not dwarfen as far as he could tell.
"Stop the games or I'll call the guards!"
He looked at the door which was only a few feet away
"For what? To attack a shadow?"
He now could make out a darker tall humanoid shape which had moved forward within the shadow. He looked at the axe lying on the table just out of his reach. If he stepped quickly...
"Now, now! Reaching for your axe would only bring this conversation to a quick end!"
"What do you want? Are you a messenger? Is it about a contract I paid for?"
"No" Harvak had the impression the voice almost sounded amused
"You did not pay for this visit. But I can assure you that the contract you have paid for will be fulfilled shortly after I've left!"
Harvak was stunned but finally understood.
"Would you at least be so kind and tell me who has paid for this visit then?"
"Unfortunately for you the other party wants to stay unmentioned as do you in our agreement."
"You can't make an exception and fulfill a dead dwarf's last wish?"
He thought he could see a smile where the face in the featureless shadow should be.
"In my line of work, granting last wishes would be a real hassle, don't you think?"
"Yes, I guess it could make your job more difficult."
He knew there would be no chance to fight it. The reputation of the guild he had paid was immaculate. You had to pay a high price for the guarantee that the job will be done perfectly. He had no misconceptions about his chance to walk out of this room alive.
"Will it be at least quick?"
"It always is"
He straightened up
"Would you allow me to put my armour on? It would be a disgrace for a dwarf to be found without metal on his body!"
"As you wish. I respect people who accept their death without begging. But be quick. You know I have another appointment and you wouldn't like me to miss it, would you?"
He smiled sourly and reached for his ceremonial armour. He didn't turn to face the assassin while he fastened the straps on the sides of his shimmering breastplate. He took the helmet and looked at it for a second while a few memories surfaced. He turned while he pulled the helmet down. And the world went black.

Niema caught the body and silently placed it on the ground. She looked at the bearded face of the dwarf. "My Queen, please take this soul and grant it entry!" It was not often that she met creatures that accepted their end with such dignity. She stood up and brushed down her black cloak. It also wasn't often that she got two contracts which have each other as target. Both wanted a reason to start a civil war to take full power. From what she heard in the markets that day, their wish for war will be fulfilled after tonight. But that was not her concern.
She left through the wall and made her way towards the prince's chambers. There was a chance that he would be as reasonable as Harvak. She respected Dwarfs. Dwarfs always accepted their fate when their time came. Humans never did. As respectful as some might have seemed, they all started begging in the end.

Passing two guards unseen she saw the outline of the prince in the next room. Two contracts fulfilled within minutes. Today was a good day.

RIP the Knighty Knights or Death to Team Apocalypse

On the eve of the third and possibly last round of Assif’s and Sven’s Epic battle, the situation is grim…
Both ways…
This has been an amazingly equal battle with the victory easily going either way.
Currently Team Apocalypse are on top, but a quick and hard counter attack from the Knighty Knights could instantly change everything back again.
So far this has been a battle of brute strength rather than subtlety. Perhaps the time for tactics has arrived?

When monsters attack

His body still protesting, Vogir heaves himself out of bed and gingerly gets dressed.
Over breakfast he overhears whispered talk of a monster attack in one of the local taverns last night.
Hand automatically reaching for his sword, Vogir feels himself tense for battle.
Monsters!
Monsters attacking Humans!
Listening harder, he gets a rough description of the fiends involved.
Three of them…
Taking on all comers bare handed…
An Orc…
A Tiefling…
And a Dragonborn…
Vogir sighs deeply and returns to his fried bacon.

Paladin's Progress

Dokan's nature becomes clear after just one session:

He is a serious fighter that is driven by his desire to protect others and to serve a higher power. This was revealed by the way he saw the distress of the person in the cart and rushed in to take the bandits. In this he has the making of a Paladin, but of whom?

The next incident helps us to decide: seeing the guards dying, he used his healing to save them from death. This is not the work of a servant of the Raven Queen.

However, the last "battle" showed another side of his nature - a love of glorious battle no matter where he may find it. Even in a lowly bar without weapons! In this he shows that his true deity should, and I suspect always was, Kord.

When you prefer to face the wrath of the dragon...

Waking up with a massive headache he opened his eyes and slowly looked around. He identified the structure ahead as the ceiling of the Castle Inn. Every inch of his body was aching. His hand went up to his left eye which seemed to be swollen and must have taken a massive hit. Darah, the innkeepers daughter, just went past his head and a whistle made it past his lips when he realized the advantages of lying on your back while girls wear wide, long skirts. He immediately regretted it when the boot made it into his already cracked rips.
"Get up you bastard and better run before I report you to the guards!"
"Hey, hey, why so harsh? We just beat the shit out of these monsters and kicked them out of the bar before they could come onto you and I think I deserve a bit of pleasurable repayment for that!"
"Do you? DO YOU?? For kicking out customers who just sat down and wanted to continue having a good night?"
He gave her a confused look and lifted his head. Bodies were lying everywhere on the floor and over the tables. He could spot the unconscious faces of his buddies next to him.
"What in Belial's name happened??"
"Well, maybe it was the beer fumes from the tab behind the bar, but from there it looked pretty much like three guys walked in, a fight broke when one of the guys threw a table at you, and then the three beat the shit out of all you thugs in the bar without breaking much sweat. They then sat down and wanted some beer and ... let me think ... ah, yes: I kicked them out to clean up the mess you've made!"
The big guy tried to think hard if he could remember any of this. There must have been nearly 30 of them when the fight started and the newcomers were unarmed.
"They must have used magic! They truly are monsters!!"
"Ahhh, yes! Of course! How could I forget the magic bottles and chair legs they had! You are right! Evil bastards! You had no chance with the daggers you'd smuggled in! Now get the hell out of my pub and take your idiot friends with you, or the Dragon will seem like a nice guy in comparison to me!"

Didn’t go Inn

Groaning, as he lowers himself gently into the bed, Vogir recounts the last battle in his head.
He had been so overconfident as he blundered into the clearing behind the thorny barrier.
The other’s had behaved as he imagined they would…
Orestes and Ghanash charged headlong into the killing zone. And Dokas, the new Tiefling Paladin had done exactly the same…
‘Tiefling Paladin’?
That sounds so wrong to Vogir’s ears.
Paladins used to stand for something once.
The once free city of Febril used to be a beacon of hope, but now it’s run by bureaucrats, completely under Thereanthor’s scaly claw.
Vogir fades from consciousness, but his dreams are full of monstrous interlopers.
Tieflings, Eladrin and Dragonborns.
Even in his sleep though, he accepts that the Dragonborns were, at least once, natives of Fissa.
He absently wonders where they disappeared to and why they returned…