forums.rs

Forums

The Legend of Drokar

Quick find code: 49-50-604-65443542

of 7
Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
I suppose you guys have been patient enough.


Chapter 5: The Battle of the Skull Mages

Soon after the day that Drokar returned with the Silver Unicorns with the help of Itarille the Elf, and had been spat at by the dishonorable chief who refused to surrender the rule as he promised, Drokar set out again on the second challenge. He was to conquer the peak of Trollweiss and return with a single flower from the peak of the mountain as proof that it had indeed been conquered. Drokar was wary of this day, since the mountain stood high and tall and steep on the horizon for the entirety of his life. There was never a day where it could not be seen in the distance. Drokar dreamt of what the view would be like from up there in his boyhood, but now he could only think of how long a fall it could be to the ground.

But Drokar set out regardless. Before his leave, he had brought his warmest cloaks and his firmest and grippiest of boots and gloves. Gone was the Sword and Shield, and instead been traded out for a set of ropes, a pack, and two ice-picks. The Helmet had been replaced with a lined hood. “Fate be with you.”, said he to his Mother, and off he departed for the foot of the Tall Rock. And taller still it seemed when he had finally arrived. And taller and taller it became for each step higher he walked. It seemed that for every meter he climbed, the Troll-Mountain grew another ten.

But still, meter after meter, he climbed, and every night he made small camp in whatever niche or cave he could find in the Wall of his World. On the nights when he was fortunate to make a camp under the stars and not under a ceiling of rock, he would spend much a time looking at the world as he knew it, and handsome it was. He could see his own home of Axgaard, with a golden shimmering light like a miniature sun, which he knew would be a bonfire. ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

22-Aug-2014 00:08:26 - Last edited on 22-Aug-2014 00:13:03 by Captain Lime

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Maybe Old Harald had swayed the way of the brown after all, and denied the existence of such a beast. If he did, then Drokar spat on his name. But still, he could see golden candleflames of bonfires and glows of the homes of many of the Fremennik Tribes on the Icecoast. One night, the sky even danced shades of yellow, as if, in its flight to rest, the Sun itself had left wisps of its essence in the heavens.

But as the climb grew taller and icier, and icier Drokar’s face became as well, Drokar cared less about the beauty of his promised realm and cared more about returning from this climb alive. It was a slow climb to be sure, and Drokar’s nerves suddenly became as edgy as a sword. Every slight slip was a nightmare, and crack in the rock was an omen. He prayed to Vuul for strength, but then began to doubt if even the Queens that had been told of by the bard would dare venture this high onto the mountain.

One night, though, as Drokar slept in a cave high onto the mountain, not far from the Summit and his goal, the cave did*’t sleep. That night, the rocks moved and conspired as Drokar snored. But these were no ordinary rocks. These rocks were hairy and white, and had eyes that glew yellow. Trolls, they were. They had not been heard much of since the days of the Great War, but his Father, a Beserker frozen during that past and brought to the future by Vemn’s grace and Harald’s luck, told him stories of browner brethren of these stony folk, who followed the dishonorable ways of the brown omen. They were tough to cleave through, even for Old Jorvold, make his name be cheered throughout the Green longhall, and his mighty War-axe. Even harder would it be for Drokar to cleave through them without a proper sword or axe of his own.

There was no time for any cleaving, though, as when Drokar woke to the clamor of trolls, he was already tied up and carried along by the rocky beasts! ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

22-Aug-2014 00:09:12

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Scream, he tried, but he already found that he’d been crudely gagged by the Trolls, and cackle they did to Drokar’s feeble attempt at alarm. Drokar’s face grew pale and white from the fear and frost. Eventually, he was brought before a giant Troll Warchief, who sat on a rocky throne with two somewhat regal-looking trolls at either side. The Troll Princes, no doubt.

“Wolf Tooth want food!” roared the Trollchief from his seat, and the two trolls to his right and left jumped happily. Drokar was thrown down on his face, and the two trolls jumped even happier as he squirmed around to right himself. Wolf Tooth the Warchief laughed and yelled to start a fire and throw Drokar into “The Pit.” And Drokar, who had barely managed to fix his position, was swept up once again and hauled down and thrown into a deep pit indeed. He finally managed to undo the hasty troll-rope bindings, but leave he could not. It would take the arm of a troll, not the jump of a man, to free himself. But all the trolls had gone for now.

All but one, rather. This one, Drokar recognized as one of the happy jumping Troll Princes, watched Drokar try to escape for a while. And as soon as Drokar took notice of the Troll prince, it roared as its father did. “Tree Branch not want to wait for fire. Tree Branch hungry NOW!” And with a jump, Tree Branch came into Drokar’s pit. Even as a child, this troll was large, coming up to his chest in height. Drokar feared those rocky jaws. Tree Branch pushed off against the back wall of the pit, and charged straight into Drokar. Drokar heard a crunch, and feared the worst.

But the worst he had feared was not the worst he would now endure. Tree Branch, for the largest part, had missed Drokar with his head and rammed it straight into the Rock Wall and dashed his own brains out! But the Rock Wall, it seems, was on the verge of breaking anyways! They flew out of the side of the mountain! ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

22-Aug-2014 00:10:07

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Drokar was trapped in this lifeless Troll’s grasp, and he and the runt fell twenty feet into the snow, right to the foot of… something!

Drokar looked up, and all he could describe it as was a… Skull mage. It stood two heads higher than he did, but made entirely out of bones, and clothed in dark robes. He peered around, and there were many more skull-mages like him, all dressed in red and dark robes. All silent, but then bickering broke out. They spoke fast and gruffly, and bickered about what they were to do with this boy and the lifeless troll. But then they started speaking of sacrifices, and one red mage blasted infernal magic at a dark mage!

The Sky began to boil and fume, and turn a thousand shades of blood. Drokar could scarcely understand what was happening. The Skull mages clashed into unholy battle, and Drokar, now coming to his senses, ran to escape. He ran, he ran, and he ran. And he tumbled through brushes and down slopes, until eventually he ran back to Axgaard, where the chiefs looked in surprise!

At first, Drokar thought they were surprised at his return, all scratched up and in fear, bloodshot and his skin turned a ghastly yellow-white pallor, but then he saw it. In the tangle of shrubs and brushes he ran through to flee that strange ritual, he managed to get the flower from his mission caught in his hair! The mission, it seems, had been completed, despite his nearly being eaten by trolls and killed by skull-mages! ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

22-Aug-2014 00:11:17

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The Yellow Chief’s face morphed into a scowl of rage, feeling that he had been cheated by the gods, and accused him in desperation. “That is no mountain flower!” he shouted, “That is a mere flower you found in the fields just outside here!” But with a huff and a puff, the Gold Chief was unable to explain the Frosten and Bruised face that Drokar was wearing, and stormed out of Axgaard. In all eyes, the Challenge had been successfully completed.

But little did Drokar know, that long after the ritual was done, the Wolf-tooth Chief growled in rage. His son! Killed by a Fremennik Whelp! His progeny! The words like these could not flow from the raging Troll’s illiterate mouth, but the feelings flowed through his mind. He would have revenge, he plotted. He would wear the Fremennik skins on his throne, and sit upon them day in and day out. He would eat Manflesh soon enough, he planned. He was hungry.

And so, our Legend Continues…

Tune in for the next chapter: King of the Elves!
^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

22-Aug-2014 00:11:59

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Fun Fact: I stylized the most recent chapter in the same way that the game said that one of the Rejuvination Rituals looked to a witness.

Also, who doesn't love a mahjarrat?

Chapter comes out later today, plus another special announcement! Although my favorite chapter is coming out on Thursday, so, I guess we'll have to wait for that.
^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

23-Aug-2014 13:19:35

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Chapter 6: King of the Elves

It had been high near a month since Drokar had returned from Trollheim, battered and scarred from his encounter with the Skeletal Magi and the King of the Trolls. Yet, Yaas would not permit him any more time to recuperate. The Sky stung with Blue streaks of coming comets, and the comet, always a Messenger made of Ice in the vein of the Ice Princess long ago, told that Drokar must resume his quest. So, donned he his armor once more, and several salves from the Village Seers of Axgaard, and off he rode to the far south to visit the Elf-King.

He past many brushes, and made camp many nights for nigh-on two weeks before he encountered the first Elvish scouting group. He, learning his manners after his first encounter with the Elf Maind Itarille, offered to make camp with the Advance Elf Rangers. But the Elf Rangers stuck up their noses, and the crystal light gave their faces an alien and snobbish blue pallor. But onwards Drokar went, in spite of the ill-feelings, and eventually arrived at the Elvish Border.

The Elvish people did*’t greet him with kind words and smiles as Itarille had once, but instead with the blades of swords and the points of arrows. Their border was wrought with blue smoke from homes and stores and walls being burned, yet from what enemy, Drokar did not know nor dare think. But Drokar was stripped of his armor and armaments, and he was brought straight where he was to wont, to the company of the Elven King.

King Baxtorian had often been spoken of with displeasure among the Fremennik people. The silly little elves with their silly little songs and haughty voices and “holier than thou” goddess. What did these people know of honor? And Drokar could see the same look of dissatisfaction on the Elf-King’s face when he was into the long, wood-grown hall with the high throne. ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

23-Aug-2014 17:24:29

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
But he and Baxtorian were not alone in Hall, for there were the Baxtorian Direguard, their Clansmen Sentinels who wore Direwolf Visages on their faces, as well as Three others. One was in another seat to his left, who Drokar assumed was Baxtorian’s Queen. Another on the right, with a snarling and wounded and pockmarked face, the first wrinkled and scarred face he had ever seen on an elf and one unlike any he deigned to imagine, and a face that was in as much shock as he was. The Pretty face of Itarille.

Immediately Itarille broke into a whisper into the Scarred Elf’s ear, but Baxtorian the King did not appreciate being ignored. “You will address your King and your King alone, outlaw! Who are you, barbarian, to ride into the Heart of Imperial Elven Territory! Do you take us for cowards? Do you seek to rub salt in the wound that your kinsmen cleaved across our land? Speak, damn you!” He spat at Drokar. Drokar, working the kindest words out of his mouth to this fearsome Elf, said “I am Drokar, son of Jorvold. I seek to unify the Fremennik tribes to fight against a Menace to the north, and I wish to have your gracious support. Your highness.” The Elf King grew more angry with this. “I care not for your fathers or your customs, and I loathe your tribes. You speak of a menace to the north, but I have heard naught of these claims, and I would believe that you and your entire uncivilized people and your axes would sooner spill Elven Blood than Unify.” Drokar opened his mouth to speak one more, trying to phrase the truth more sweetly, but Baxtorian would let him speak no more. “Enough! I have heard enough of Fremennik Lies and Fremennik speech. Send this knave back to the frontier where he belongs! Cut off his left arm, too, to serve as a warning.”

Itarille, who had been whispering to the Damaged elf now cried out. “No!* Baxtorian turned, clearly upset, but the Scarred Elf was clearly more. ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

23-Aug-2014 17:25:20

Quick find code: 49-50-604-65443542 Back to Top