Legends

Myth Drannor was a campaign of bizarre occurences and extremes. Stories of it may one day be collected below.

But before then, here is a quick listing of the 66 PCs (and pseudo-PCs) of the Myth Drannor campaign:

Shalrissa Duon, Richard of Shadowdale, Ssapriina Cobara, tlhk Iaktuq', Falaris Otharin, Mubdle Dawnpiper, Omar Ibn Haku, Chrysanthalas/Corinalas, Morden/Mordana, Alicia, Richina, Leopold, Bucklal Boldover, Sylva Talonky, Gaelen, Catlindra Serpentar, Leafen Silnas, Milord, Shilander Darkstone, Dooran Justsword, Malcolm McKrakus, Liseric, Mercana, Tuffie Doorpick, Fenril Shandlop, Gu Blop, Sagius, "Mad" Maiuth Haevault, "Blink", Xavier, Rhykar, Kay Hamilton, Silverblade, Vincent, Gidion Hatcourt, Gilthanas Brightarrow, Paul Grey, Alexander, Nafe Young, Dirk Carius, Cynthia, Kylie, Koto, Ziriana, Hira meki, Ceraque Sanethoth, Mordecai, Taruele Elfrost, Kethtaril Vonavin, Ovin, Kayen Hamilton, Tiatril Duoth, Shichee, Sarah the Shadow Assassin, Falarin Otharin, Ken-Sen Shichi Kiyo, Sarah Kossdotter, Caeldrim Ruavin, Shal, Rasia, Kasia the Seer, Abbess Linelle Alaecathra, "The Hand of Lathander", and others whose names have been lost in time...

The Abbess walks over and looks down on the unconscious 1' tall thin humanoid with a leathery apricot carapace covered in dark brown fur and brown scales, with pale blue eyes, ivory teeth, yellow beek, upraised horns, and a red comb on two heads, one of which is dead, with ivory claws on blob-like arms, a yellow-green furry serpentine tail with a single red feather, yellow chicken feet on beige legs, astral gray wings with a reddish cast, and a bloody smell.

"That's going to be one unhappy Fang Dragon when it wakes up," she remarks.

Gotta love those Fang Dragon-Yeti-Pyrolisk-Electric Eel-Yellow Urchin-Hordling-Kamadan-Oinodaemon-Mustard Jelly-Hyena-Boring Beetle-Baalzebul-Satyr-Ogremoch-Giant Two-Headed Troll-Mule hybrids, huh?

And so, as the encounter with Kayen drew to it's conclusion, Mordana said unto the desperate ranger: "...anything I can to assist your cause – you mentioned a people in peril – then I may be able to give some assistance as well."

Well, after a search with the crystal ball you track down his halfling companions. You learn about some evil ring that controls minds that must be destroyed. Its influence sounds like a dragon orb. With the power of the Vambrace of Valour protecting you, you casually take the ring, teleport to the mountain where it was made, and toss it in. The ranger thanks you tremendously.

"Aha," laughed the evil wizard of Anak-tur aloud to himself as he completed the ritual which would make him more powerful than even the temple priest. As he laughed on the ledge above the castle, he knew that his mind-controlled guards were seizing the princess and king. The good rulers who had served their country so long would be overthrown by their own zombie-like henchmen. The irony was so appealing.

"Three million people of this land – they shall all serve me! I shall take their daughters and sons to my bedchambers, and afterwards their blood shall be spilled to preserve my youth!"

Lightning struck the highest tower of the castle, and travelled down into the wizard's body. He laughed as he felt nothing but power.

He fell to a silence as he heard the sound footsteps approaching. The words sounded of a strange distant accent, and he couldn't place either of the two people talking – apparently a man and a woman.

"So where's the monkeyf*cker who did this job? Wasn't he supposed to be upstairs here?"

"I don't know – your music made them all stop and answer you... I mean... I think they're still down there waiting... all 200 of them. You did say not to move until we got back. They seemed to listen to you very carefully. Do you think they'll still breath?"

The wizard screamed at the two: "Who goes there! I shall destroy you if you are here to stop me." He then unfurled his finest magic at them.

The last words he heard before died were: "Haha... that's like, so funny that he thinks he's powerful." Then, "Yes... well... I suspect that this..."

"Quick, take it out of the fire, Igor! Yes! Hold it higher! No higher you incompetent oaf! Good! Now put it here! On the table! Faster! Before it cools down! Good... now back off!"

The thing was almost finished. The assistant scurried away under a table to cower. Soon, the land of Yrginth would know the true meaning of fear. The dark metal had been soaked in a well of blackness for 30 days, and then fresh blood for 2 years. Each day he had meticulously slain the cats, dogs, and children that were necessary for the metal to be imbued with the proper magic.

He had seen the inside of it glowing with the putrescent light as it came out from the blood, ready to be forged into a blade by dark lightning and bones.

He had made the hilt from the collarbone of a noble maiden – the collarbone which had needed to be taken while the girl was alive.

And there was no secret of his deeds either – for the grim knight, Hunter, was guarding the entrance to the Keep. None would dare cross that man's path. Together, the two of them would be able to conquer the land. Everything was going according to plan, and he chucked softly to himself.

Only – somehow there was other laughter coming from outside. And what sounded like voices.

"Yeah man! He was totally so funny! I AM THE GRIM KNIGHT! I mean... I feel almost disappointed. I almost peed! I think I put his head somewhere here."

"True my friend. But I could not have dealt with him so quickly myself. Do not mock your own skill. One day you do need to show me how you do that thing with... stop. Here is the door, I believe. There is some dark magic from within."

He could scarcely believe the idea that Hunter was defeated, and knew that it had to have been a mistake. Nonetheless, holding off two imbeciles while the knight returned would be nothing of consequence.

He readied his magic to target it at the intruders.

"Hey! Look out!" He heard the words of alarm as they travelled up the corridor and he felt at peace with the way he would use the intruder's intestines as anther part of the magic he was forging.

Then he died.

Ak'tak didn't know that he had died and come to paradise. All he knew was that one day while flying he came down upon what seemed a small group of strange two-legged and very tasty creatures.

Apparently they were trying to hurt him, but there wasn't much they could do, and even if they had found some way, they were so delicious that it was worth the risk.

There were some crunchy bits however, which he hadn't been able to eat, and he'd noticed that many times they glittered when he spit them out again. They shined, and were many different colours. He liked them.

One day, one of the creatures tried to offer him many of the things which he had been collecting in lieu of it's life, and since the quantity seemed so great, he was willing to exchange. This lead to an admirable arrangement wherein afterwards he moved to one of the caves in the mountains nearby.

Whenever he was hungry he simply flew over the people, and ate whomsoever he chose – but if they gave him enough pretty crunchy things, then he wouldn't eat them.

Eventually, the people in the place had run out of them, so he'd had to eat them all. But, then he discovered that if he followed the dark lines in the ground away from where the creatures hid from him, he would come to another group. It seemed they had even heard of him, because as soon as he showed up they gave him many of the things before futilely trying to flee. Events repeated themselves much to his liking wherever he went and whenever he became hungry.

At many such groups, several of the creatures actually tried to hurt him, and he was so upset that he ate them all before collecting what he wanted. Sometime they seemed like they were even waiting for him! But he always got exactly what he wanted in the end.

One time, he slept for a whole week, and when he woke up, he even felt bigger. He was more hungry than he'd ever been before. So, the place he chose to go was further away from his wonderful new paradise home than he'd ever been before.

When he finally got there, the creatures had seen him coming and were already in a panic. There was already a large pile of toys waiting for him, but he was so hungry he ignored it, and began to eat one of the creatures. At least... he would have if the creature hadn't vanished when he tried.

He heard some noises, similar to the ones that the creatures usually used when he was eating them.

They went, "Whoa! That is a big ... thing. There's gonna be lots of barbeque tonight!"

And, "I believe so. Let's see if this works how I think it does."

Then Ak'tak realised that he was really dead this time.

Alara knelt before her sword. It stood upright in the ground, the blade buried almost a foot.

It's hilt was made from onyx and sapphire and silver. Her father had made it for her before he died. There was nothing it's equal that any had ever seen. There had never been an equal to her father either in that regard. She missed him terribly, as she had done for ten years.

But he had made the right choice. The sword had not gone to the General. The General did not deserve such a weapon. He was a common thief, he was a vicious warlord, and he was an evil ruler. Soon after her father's death he had overthrown the king, and executed all the dissenters to his new regime.

Alara had escaped and trained for 5 years with the blade her father had made. Then another 5 were spent learning about warfare and battle. She had been on the fields before, and had firsthand experience how armies were formed and lead.

She had returned to the lands of her birth to help rally an uprising and free it from her father's murderer. There had been enough support at first, but now the tyrant had made a pact with evil magicians, and strange forms had flickered on the enemy camp in the afternoon, and despite the enemy's losses, there was some other force lurking waiting for nightfall.

As she watched her own forces regrouping from the day's parley, she also watched with dread the sun drop beyond the horizon. Only a prayer would save her, but as she opened her mouth to speak two voices interrupted.

"We seek Alara Brightforge. It is urgent. Is she nearby?" "Yeah... really urgent."

She spoke: "I am she. Who goes?"

"There is little time to speak, because already the forces of night are approaching. Your troops fought well during the day, but they must fight again tonight or you are surely lost."

"Damn! She's really good loo.. Ow!"

Her puzzled response: "It is no use. My troops are already too tired to continue. Three days we have been at this, and if there is only death tonight then we may not be able to meet it standing up."

"Milady. I am at your service in _every_ way you could imagine. Fear not, for when I sing, your men and yourself will forget their exhaustion. Tonight we shall wage battle with your enemy so that tomorrow night we may celebrate together."

The strange bejewelled elf then bent to kiss her hand in the most elegant of fashions. He smiled charmingly at her, and even in his smile she could feel some of her energy returning.

"Uh. Yes. Falaris," said the other voice – belonging to an extraordinarily odd woman with a strange staff. "I think they are coming. We must attend quickly."

The beautiful elf sang, and Alara's troops flocked refreshed to his voice, and all together, as a group again readied to move forward.

The woman led, and raising her flashing staff in both hands, thrust it into the ground and an enormous wave of white/black light surged in every direction. Then she ran off into the night.

The very air felt cleaner, and the army swelled forwards, elf leading, singing, as he gathered a massive sword from his back.

Alara didn't remember much of that night. Strange flashes of what could have been purple lightning – and then butterflies – flashed over the enemy camp. Many of the enemy troops were exhausted as well, and most that had not been slain in the day were easily taken captive. There was no sign of any evil magic whatsoever. All that remained in fact, of the enemy command, was a single tent with the General's elite guard and himself. Around it were what seemed like small craters.

She did remember what seemed like a small conversation between the two visitors.

"I've done what seems important for me to have done. I'm actually right in the middle of a crucial experiment. Just... contact me if there's anything else important."

"Yeah... okay. I think... I _might_ be sticking around for a few days just to make sure that ..."

"She's listening."

"Oh... I'd better go!"

The next day, the General was executed, on order of the Queen who had been unwillingly married to him. Alara was made Captain of the New Guard, and her conscience was finally at rest.

The guest who remained seemed to be rapidly composing a wonderful song about the battle and somebody of great beauty.

She told him about her father.

"Well, milady," he said more charmingly and beautifully than any man she had ever heard speak, "I've always felt that to indulge in some kind of pleasure and release after a time like this..."

Future link.