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Thread: Lost Tales I

  1. #1
    Adventurer

    EXP: 49,012, Level: 9
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    Tobias Stalt's Avatar

    GP
    623

    Name
    Tobias Ebericht Stalt
    Age
    30
    Race
    Human, Dehlosian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

    Lost Tales I

    Lost Tales I



    The Lost Tales are a collection of stories recounting Tobias' adventures over the past five years in Kebiras

    This is a solo thread.

  2. #2
    Adventurer

    EXP: 49,012, Level: 9
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 4,988
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    Tobias Stalt's Avatar

    GP
    623

    Name
    Tobias Ebericht Stalt
    Age
    30
    Race
    Human, Dehlosian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    A cloudy sky opened above Tobias and wind buffeted his face. Raindrops trickled all around and muddied the dirt path. Each step was more arduous than the last. The Mercenary watched as supernatural scarlet streaked between clouds.

    "They say the storm's raged for a millennia or more," Orville commented. The aging mercenary was more plump now than he was in his prime, but his sword was still sharp. He wore a jerkin one size too tight, a relic of his glory days and between his lips a pipe hung limp. "Not many folks come far enough north to say if it's true or not."

    Tobias looked over the meager caravan and from one guard to the next. If the road got much worse, he knew they would have trouble with the wagon. "That's unfortunate," the Dehlosian youth explained, "because we'll have to go the rest of the way on foot if the road softens any further."

    Orville frowned. "Map says there's at least 20 leagues between us and the ruins," he contested. "No way in hell we can go that on foot with all the rations and tools."

    "Then we take what we can carry," Tobias shrugged. "Not like you need to eat." Orville muttered something unintelligible and hung his head. Tobias took a step toward the wagon and tugged at the canvas, peeling aside the rear flap. "Look alive, gents," he petitioned to the two men asleep within, "we may have a problem."

    A groan emanated from the interior and two jade eyes peered back at Tobias. "We definitely have a problem," Rosco sneered, "I'm awake and it's not even sunset yet. This better be good, Stalt." The black haired merchant rubbed his mess of hair and took stock of the road, the guardsmen, and the weather before he thrust out both arms and stretched.

    Tobias folded his arms as the horses came to a full stop. "Weather isn't getting any better from here on," he told the group. "We're going to have to grab what little we need and press forward on foot."

    "And someone will doubtless have to stay with the wagon," Orville added excitedly, "I'd be happy to do that."

    "Of course you would," Rosco snapped, "someone who won't clean out the rations while we're gone is staying. As the client, that's my call to make."

    "You heard the man," Tobias grinned, barely stifling a laugh.

    Orville hung his head in defeat. "Cecil, would you mind staying with my inventory?" Rosco asked. The final member of the group lay in the bed of the wagon with his eyes closed, but they fluttered in response to Rosco's query. Several seconds passed before he sat upright, and Cecil wiped the sleep from his eyes slowly.

    A blonde youth with vivid blue eyes, Cecil had less wear than any other member of the group. He wore swathing robes and picked idly at his nose, indifferent to the judgmental eyes. "Hmmm?" the boy tilted his head and strained. "Oh, right. Bad weather. Walking. Sure, I'll watch the cargo."

    "He's an airhead, but he's reliable," Rosco declared merrily as he climbed out of the wagon and promptly shivered. "Gods, it got cold out here."

    "Winds picked up," Orville commented, "and the rain don't help it much. Plus we've gone a ways north, away from the desert."

    "I know why it got cold," Rosco seethed. "Are you a weather oracle or a mercenary, you big lummox?"

    "Cool off, lads," Tobias stepped between them and clapped Rosco on the shoulder, "sorry to wake you before dark, but it couldn't be helped. We've got a long walk ahead."

    "It's alright," the merchant sulked. "I just have a short fuse for morons when I've just awoken."

    "Morons who you're paying to keep you alive, remember," Tobias smirked. "Best not forget that, or they might forget what they're being paid for."

    "I'm not convinced some of them won't forget anyway," Rosco muttered.

    "Everyone grab food and water. Orville, grab rope. Rosco, grab flint and tinder. I've got stakes and a hammer so we can set up camp, and we can carry along some of the extra canvas from the wagon," Tobias instructed deftly. "Barring any unforeseen obstacles, that should be everything we need to survive the trek."

    "Done this before, have you?" Orville gave Tobias an inquisitive look.

    "Long journey, days away from civilization, bad weather?" Tobias asked. "Once or twice. You get used to it when you're traveling in the Occident."

    "Did you two catch sight of anything we should worry about along the path?" Rosco questioned. "If we leave Cecil behind, I want to at least be sure we're not knowingly feeding him to the wolves."

    "Noticed some tracks to the south," Tobias revealed. "Several hours ago, headed east. They're not coming this way, at any rate, and I'd be surprised if they do. Orcs generally hunt further south and east, where populations are more plentiful and food is easier to come by."

    "If you're certain," Rosco resigned himself. "I just don't want to lose any of my wares is all. I've got a small fortune in this wagon. My investment is precious."

    Tobias grunted. "Typical merchant," he laughed. "There's no secure investments out here. Deal with it, because we're moving on."
    Last edited by Tobias Stalt; 10-31-2019 at 11:57 PM.

  3. #3
    Adventurer

    EXP: 49,012, Level: 9
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 4,988
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 4,988


    Tobias Stalt's Avatar

    GP
    623

    Name
    Tobias Ebericht Stalt
    Age
    30
    Race
    Human, Dehlosian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    "How much further do we have to walk?" Orville groaned. The aging sellsword walked with his back half slumped forward and bore a hefty sack over one shoulder. Muck sucked at leather with every step.

    "We've been walking less than a half hour," Rosco called back. "Maybe if you had grabbed less food, you wouldn't be complaining so much."

    "It's a long walk," the fat man protested, "and we'll need our strength!"

    Tobias led the trio by several meters and glanced back only periodically to ensure they kept pace. While the others bickered, he saved his energy and kept focused on the path ahead. When the sun dipped beneath the black clouds enough for him to know night crept closer, he turned toward them. "Twilight's less than an hour," he stated, "and we're making terrible time. Less talking, more walking."

    Rosco and Orville shot each other dirty looks, then directed their attention forward. "We're going to catch a chill if we try to press too far," Rosco muttered beneath his breath. "We should have planned for this."

    "You knew we were going north," Orville chastised. "Why did you not bring along furs or coats or... something?" The merchant's face flushed.

    "We left the furs in the wagon so we could travel lighter, you buffoon!" he berated Orville, who held up both hands in surrender. "Gods, if I knew you were such an idiot, I would have-"

    "I said shut up, the both of you!" Tobias shot back at the pair of them. "There's no sense in bickering over it now. We have covered almost no ground at all, night is moving in fast, and this storm isn't going to let up. It's pointless to set up camp this close to the wagon, and heading back would squander any time we've made. It's only going to get colder as it gets darker, so if you don't want to catch your death of cold, I suggest that you set aside your differences and we force a march toward," he jabbed a finger toward a rocky mass on the horizon, which slowly blackened as the sun slipped away. "There. We can look for cover, and if you two have anything left to bitch about, you can sort it out then."

    The others fell silent once more. Tobias let out a silent sigh. He brushed the sopping mop of hair from his eyes and grit his teeth. Seconds stretched into hours during their silence, but they continued despite dwindling morale. Darkness swallowed the path forward just as they reached the rocks.

    "Orville, help me pitch the tent beneath that outcropping," Tobias instructed as he moved toward the indicated area. "Rosco, work on getting a fire going so we can cast off the chill. Do it quickly, the wind is much less forgiving on the plain."

    Rosco nodded and headed to a sheltered area beneath the rocks. He tossed some of the firewood they had brought along into a pile and struck the flint and tinder until it sparked, but they had nothing to further fuel the fire. "It may take a bit," he barked. "We don't have any kindling."

    Tobias reached into the sack Orville carried and produced some dried meats. "Use this," he tossed a handful of bear meat toward the merchant. "It's pretty well preserved, so there should be some fat still hanging on. That ought to catch."

    "Hey!" Orville whined. "That was mine!"

    "And now we're not going to die," Tobias rounded on the older man. "Don't you think that's a bit more important than keeping your belly full?"

    "Er," the older man stammered, then hung his head in defeat.

    The fire crackled and burst to life, and the warm glow stole away their attention. "Great job, Rosco," Tobias clapped his hands. "Now, let's get close and shed some of these wet clothes." He pulled the shirt overhead as he spoke and spread it out next to the flame. Drops of water cascaded down his torso. "Damn, that feels good."

    There came a dull murmur of assent.
    Last edited by Tobias Stalt; 10-30-2019 at 10:48 PM.

  4. #4
    Adventurer

    EXP: 49,012, Level: 9
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 4,988
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 4,988


    Tobias Stalt's Avatar

    GP
    623

    Name
    Tobias Ebericht Stalt
    Age
    30
    Race
    Human, Dehlosian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Thunder rolled overhead intermittently as the sky flashed and illuminated the vast plains. Tobias reclined against the rock face and drank in the warmth of the fire. He listened to the rain patter and the dull roar of Orville snoring inside the tent as he surveyed the landscape at every opportunity.

    Grass could not grow where rain never stopped. The barren moor boasted only corpses of trees, bone white from when their roots were flooded. Rock and mud multiplied in lieu of flora, to the point where the Northern fringes of Kebiras were little more than barren soil. Tobias gnawed on a strip of jerky as the marsh lit up again. "Can't sleep?" Rosco stepped out of the tent and drew a pipe from his half-dried linen robes. "I can hardly blame you. That bastard is so loud-"

    "Nah," the mercenary waved a hand. "Ain't him. Been a long time since I had a good night sleep." Tobias eyed the pipe and gestured toward the merchant to pass it.

    Rosco finished lighting the contents and sucked in the first hit. He held it for several heartbeats, then exhaled and passed the pipe along. "Yeah?" he croaked quietly as he huddled close to the fire. "I'd heard you struck off from your father's people some six years back," Rosco revealed. "What made you decide to come back? Got cold feet?"

    Tobias stared into the heat now and his gaze hardened. He clenched the pipe between his teeth and sucked in a long breath. The firelight reflected in his eyes mirrored the hell in his mind.

    He exhaled as he passed the pipe back.

    "Sometimes, you don't realize you blundered until long afterward," was all the answer he gave.

    Rosco quirked a brow, but he did not immediately respond. His shoulders rose and held for half a second, then fell again. "Whatever you say," he conceded as Tobias blew a plume of smoke through his nostrils. "You picked up a dangerous job," he changed subjects quickly.

    "When you hear the myths about the Lost Kings of Kebiras," Tobias lit up with renewed vigor, "it's hard not to get excited, you know? These are the tales our fathers told us as kids, and we're getting the chance to live them. I'd be a fool not to risk my life for an adventure like that."

    "You and the old man were the only fools willing to take the job," Rosco revealed. "Cecil's a good lad, but he's followed me since we were knee high to grasshoppers. Don't think he'd be able to find north from south without someone to read a compass for him."

    "And we left him with the cargo?" Tobias frowned. "Isn't that a bit negligent?"

    "Relax." Rosco spun the pipe around between his fingers and jabbed it toward Tobias skillfully. The mercenary took it. "He may be a bit slow, but he's good at following orders. I've never had a problem leaving him with the shop for several weeks while I went off on business. This will take even less time."

    Tobias took a few quick puffs. "I'll defer to your judgment," he relented.

    They sat in silence for a time as the storm raged on, and the mercenary turned his gaze skyward. Rosco continued to nurse the pipe and Tobias sighed. "What'll you do if the ruins turn out to be a dead end?" he asked.

    "No ruin in Kebiras is a dead end," Rosco contended. "No one's come back with anything significant to sell, at least, not in the past century or two on record. Way I see it, the continent's an untapped resource just waiting to be prospected." The man let out a laugh. "What about you?"

    "Just along for the excitement," Tobias winked. "But you should try to get some sleep," he told the merchant. "It's going to be a long walk, and the storm isn't going anywhere."

    "Sleep yourself," Rosco jeered, "I've got gold on the brain, lad. It could keep me awake for a lifetime."

    Tobias chuckled. "Alright," he conceded. "I'll try to get some sleep. You do the same. We'll strike off at dawn."
    Last edited by Tobias Stalt; 10-31-2019 at 06:47 AM.

  5. #5
    Adventurer

    EXP: 49,012, Level: 9
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 4,988
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 4,988


    Tobias Stalt's Avatar

    GP
    623

    Name
    Tobias Ebericht Stalt
    Age
    30
    Race
    Human, Dehlosian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Orville made no effort to hide his obnoxious yawn. "I don't see no sun," he grumbled as the group trudged on. "We could have slept two, maybe three more hours."

    "Could have lost that much travel time, too," Tobias returned. "The sooner we make the ruins, the sooner we can get back to the wagon."

    "And off these wretched plains," added Rosco as he wrung his sleeve and dumped more water into the mire. "These clothes weren't made for such conditions."

    The two mercenaries exchanged glances. "You had other clothes," Tobias reminded the merchant. "Why did you decide on silk when you knew we were headed into a downpour?"

    Rosco glared at Tobias and pursed his lips venomously. The younger man raised both hands. "Just a thought," he relented. It was hardly worth an argument with his benefactor to him.

    The road forked abruptly a yard from a steep drop off, and beyond Tobias made out the silhouette of a settlement. "That must be it," he pointed as thunder resounded overhead. Constant flashes of light replaced the intermittent stains in their wake.

    The ground shook suddenly, and sparks sprang up within arm's reach of the three men. "Gods be good!" Rosco shouted as Orville let out a shrill cry. "What was that?"

    "Lightning strike," Tobias observed as he pulled his hood over. "From here on, they're a very real threat. Move quickly and stay to the path." The mercenary quickened his pace and gestured toward warped metal structures that jutted forth from the ground. "The path is lined with lightning rods. They're old and worn, but if we don't deviate they should keep us safe."

    Rosco blinked. "You really did your research, didn't you?"

    "The tale of the Sixth King recounts the storm that swallowed these plains," Tobias explained as he led them along the spiral path downward. "It's vague about what actually created the storm, but the way that the author and his contemporaries navigated the valley is explicit."

    "Who would have thought children's tales could be so useful," the merchant sneered.

    "Useful enough," Tobias retorted as the treacherous incline slipped beneath him. He righted himself with a hasty effort, one hand to the rock face. "It's going to see you to your treasure, isn't it?"

    "That remains to be seen," Rosco snapped back. When Tobias slid, the merchant quickly grabbed hold of the nearest foothold. Orville let out a yelp at the unexpected contact and jumped nearly a foot in the air. "Calm down you ninny!" he chastised.

    Orville opened his mouth to respond, but another crack of thunder pealed and the white light arced to a metal post within a meter of them. The molten iron glowed red. "Let's focus on getting to shelter," Tobias reminded the two.

    "Should've stayed asleep," Orville muttered as they descended into the valley.

    The walls bore rust and moss as badges of honor, though their tattered tops had crumbled. When they were close enough to see the wear, Rosco snorted. "Some palace this is," he whined. "It's not gold or silver or decorated with fine fabrics."

    "It's also been abandoned for some three thousand years," Tobias drawled. "What we're looking for won't be found within lavish halls or in the care of a living, breathing being. You wanted ruins, Rosco? These are ruins."

    "So long as there's a payout, I don't give a damn if we wrest treasure from the bones of the Dead." Tobias flinched when the merchant said that. He turned a haunted gaze on the simple minded man.

    "Be careful what you wish for," the mercenary muttered after a moment of silence.

    Rosco trembled under the weight of Tobias' gaze even after it passed. "So," he shook off his malcontent. "What actually happened to the Sixth King?"
    Last edited by Tobias Stalt; 11-03-2019 at 06:59 AM.

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